being sick sucks amirite

[nameissilver]

[Silver hates a lot of things, but one of his top ten biggest hates is being sick. It's the not being allowed to get out of bed, it's the feeling too groggy and weak and overall shitty to even think about getting out of bed, the sneezing, the fever, the headache, the coughing.

And of course, needing to be taken care of. No matter how much he protests it, he needs it and it really fucking sucks.]

Comments

[bandagedbandit]

[It's not exactly a bundle of laughs for Clarissa either, being the one who has to take care of Silver. But she can't just leave him to suffer helplessly alone in bed, so she's doing whatever she's gotta do and hoping this illness goes away bloody fast. It's not that she's worried about him or anything — she knows the kid's not flimsy enough to be floored by a common case of flu, even if Silver's case seems pretty bad, but... well... she doesn't, uh... want to see him suffer any more than he needs to, either... But like hell if she'll ever admit it out loud.

Seated on the edge of the bed, Clarissa gives the glass thermometer a final shake, before moving it toward Silver's mouth and— hold on. Her eyes widen and she withdraws the instrument before she strikes him with a powerful glare:]

You'd better not dare bite this, d'you here me? Not unless you want a slashed-open mouth on top of being this fucking sick. [She knows how troublesome a downed Silver can be. She holds the thermometer out once again.] Open.

[nameissilver]

[Silver gives her a nasty look but complies anyway. Of course he's not gonna bite it, what does she think he is, stupid?]

[bandagedbandit]

[Do you really want her honest answer to that question, Silver?

Clarissa leans forward and places the thermometer into Silver's mouth, moving the end of it to under his tongue.] Close. [Because clearly Silver needs to be told to do that.]

[nameissilver]

[He does, but Silver disagrees. Even with his mouth firmly closed around the thermometer, he still manages to give her another dirty look. He can't decide whether this is better or worse than a nurse who would smother and mollycoddle him.]

[bandagedbandit]

[She'll just scowl straight back at him; Silver should be flattered she's wasting her free time looking after his sorry ass.

She casts an eye at the alarm clock on the bedside table.]

Y'have to leave that in for three minutes, okay? Don't be an idiot and try to talk or anything.

[nameissilver]

[Fine, it's not like he's one of those people who can't survive 5 seconds without talking. Three minutes is nothing. He keeps glaring at her, hating every minute of this.]

[bandagedbandit]

[She narrows her eyes at him — quit glaring at her when she's trying to take care of you, you snotty nosed brat (literally).

She shuffles further up the bed, one hand spread on the duvet for support while she leans over and brushes Silver's hair out of his face, before pressing her palm to his forehead.]

[nameissilver]

[Damn it, that actually feels kind of nice. Comforting, even. Silver continues to pout around the thermometer, the bulb feeling uncomfortable and annoying under his tongue.]

[bandagedbandit]

[Sheesh—! That feels way too hot, she might as well not have even bothered with the thermometer...there's no doubt that Silver has a fever, and that it's a high one. She pulls her hand away, giving Silver a wide-eyed look.]

Shit, how did you get this sick? ...Don't answer that.

[nameissilver]

[Staying out too late training, walking around in the rain to do errands, not eating enough, little things like that. Boy, Silver, you kind of suck at taking care of yourself.]

[bandagedbandit]

[Guess he can't complain about karma coming back around to smack him in the face, then. Clarissa's reckless but at least she tries to take good care of her health, at least, when she's in the mindset for it. She doesn't need illness on top of her medical encyclopaedia of injuries (if she catches Silver's flu there will be hell to pay later).

She sits and waits for the remainder of the three minutes to pass before gently pulling the thermometer from Silver's mouth and holding it up to eye-level. ...And, as expected, that red line stretches way too far. Clarissa doesn't know the exact temperature body temperature is supposed to be, nor what this new temperature spells...but she's sure the numbers shouldn't be that big...]

Ugh, that's high—! You really are stupidly sick! What happened to idiots not catching colds, huh?

[nameissilver]

[He can't, but he will]

Shut up! 'm stronger than- [cough] stronger than most. Only weaklings get sick so [sniff] easily. [cue the sneezing fit!]

[bandagedbandit]

Wha— Urgh, hey! [Why must you do that when she's in such close range?! Clarissa recoils with such violence that she nearly topples off the edge of the bed. Once Silver's sneezing fit stops...whenever that is...she'll tear a tissue from the box lying on the covers nearby and just...reluctantly swipe at his nose with it, her features twisted into the most disgusted grimace.]

Cover your nose and mouth when you sneeze, you bratty germ-ball! What the hell will you do if you get me sick too, huh?

[nameissilver]

[Silver snatches the tissue from her and wipes his nose, curling up into a little ball further away from her. How dare she pick on him when he feels like total shit?]

Well excuse me, princess.

[bandagedbandit]

[You did not just— Clarissa inhales sharply through clenched teeth at hearing that name. If you don't want her to pick on you more, Silver, using 'Princess' is the last way to go about it. Come on, you know how she hates it.]

Don't call me that! You're the one who'll be screwed over if I get laid-up too.

[nameissilver]

[He does, but it seems the sickness has impaired what little ability he has to NOT be a jackass. Silver pulls the covers over his head, making a small noise of discomfort.]

Whatever.

[bandagedbandit]

[Grr. She clambers across the bed to the bundle of covers and jabs it sharply with her finger.]

Just hurry up and get better so I don't have to deal with this anymore, okay? You're not allowed to leave the bed!

[nameissilver]

You can't make me stay down! [he doesn't even feel like getting up but being told he's not allowed makes him want to rebel on principle]

[bandagedbandit]

You wanna bet that I can't? [Because she will do whatever she needs to to keep you under those covers, Silver.]

[nameissilver]

[And immediately he tries to get up. Damn it, moving any muscle hurts and he knows he'll pass out but no one bosses HIM around and gets away with it!]

[bandagedbandit]

[DENIED! Clarissa near pounces on top of Silver, flinging herself at him to try and knock him back down, determined to floor (mattress?) him. Not she probably needs to be this drastic about things, but she has a point to prove!]

[nameissilver]

ACK! [sputter] G-get off! Stop it, what do you think you're doing?! [continues to struggle, not that it means much considering the state he's in]

[bandagedbandit]

[Sorry Silver, but Clarissa means business....when do you ever win this sort of fight, anyway? It's like tradition for Silver to always get topped. Clarissa lies on top of him, her legs either side of his, keeping him pinned under her chest. She gives a victorious smirk, barely even needing to brace herself against Silver's meagre struggling.]

I'm not going anywhere until you give in and stay put!

[nameissilver]

[Reason number 402 to hate being sick? Physical weakness. Sure, he'd probably fail at putting up a fight against her anyway but this is a special kind of fail. Silver gives up, flopping back down on the bed and burying his face in the pillow with a pained whine.]

[bandagedbandit]

[Victory! ...Not that it was unexpected, of course. Clarissa doesn't move from on top of Silver, peering down at him with a satisfied grin.]

Heh...do you give in? I can lie here all day if not.