When Inigo tells him things like that, Roland is still unsure of what to say. He doesn't hear that often. Can't remember what it's like to have someone look at him this way, like he can protect them and not fail. These are feelings he'd never say to Inigo out loud, but he'll chase the warmth it gives him, looking fondly over when he sits by the bed and leaves room for him.

Two strides is all it takes for Roland to make his way to Inigo's bedside, and he plops down carefully, the mattress sinking with the added weight. He doesn't answer for now, swiveling instead so he's facing Inigo. His hands take the edges of the blanket and he starts wrapping him tighter and tighter into its folds until he looks like a roll, but no matter how funny it might look to someone else, it's because Roland wants him to feel it too. The warmth, the very same affection that Inigo grants him, gifts him. Thinks he's worthy of fulfilling. He flashes a smile at him, "There. Better." - before his boots are removed promptly and he scoots inside the space, his back slightly leaned on the headboard and his hands on his stomach, waiting for Inigo to take whatever position he might need to. A cuddle? A full on hug? Roland is there, human pillow at the ready indeed.

He does speak up, though. When he knows his words won't betray him, overwhelmed. "It's okay to not be okay. You can look like a mess and I wouldn't think any less of you. I just hope I can make 'a bit better' into 'a whole lot' better by the time you fall asleep. Heh."

It compels him to unfold his politely placed hands into a full on beckon with arms slightly opened. He doesn't have to play it coy.