"Hey, hey... don't apologise, okay? Seriously, it's okay. I'll live. Just a couple of weeks ago, I had one of the worse cases of food poisoning ever just from a pizza here. It was like Miami's way of welcoming me with open arms or something. I would have preferred say, a red carpet, or maybe a glittery banner or something," Jeremy joked with a gentle smirk at her. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was joking at her expense. He just wanted her to feel okay about it and that really, it was out of her control. He wasn't the squeamish sort. He had even contemplated nursing or medicine as a career before he settled on psych when push came to shove. He graduated and then celebrated with Sebastian on a trip to France which was a whole other story in itself. "I know how it feels to feel rotten and that your belly hurts bad enough you think you'll never stop throwing up. It's like your brain transports back to being a kid and you just want to curl up in bed with your teddy and hope Mom can take it all away. Unfortunately, moms don't even really have a magical miracle cure for nausea. Sometimes, we just have to tough it out and wait for it to pass."

He pointed back to the store over his shoulder with his thumb. "Why don't you tell me what you were in there to pick up. I'll run in and grab it for you, and then I can drive you home. Unless you have your own car? In which case, I could still drive you and then just walk back here or get a cab. Do you live nearby? I'm not all that far, but I couldn't recommend taking you back to my place for a rest. Blaine's pitching a panic fit about toilet paper because he's all on edge about Kurt coming home. It's really not a relaxing environment. But I can take you to your place and hang for a little while until you feel better. If you want. Of course, you might just prefer I piss off so you can die in peace?"