"If I get sick, I promise to take care of it myself as much as possible," Luke countered, quiet laughter muffled as he dropped the towel on top of his head and scrubbed before pulling it around his shoulders instead. Not that it helped much, but the umbrella made sure he didn't continue to get wet. "And anyway, it'd be what I deserved if it happened."

Of course, he sure hoped he won't get sick; he remembered all too well the few times he'd been sick growing up, and the creeping inevitability of pneumonia he'd felt through the dead haze during the night on Hoth...

"... Do we have hot chocolate?" Perking up at the thought, Luke smiled. He'd found it a short while ago here, and if there was one thing he hoped existed in their own galaxy as well, it was that.