[ yeah he would definitely do this if he weren't sick, let's be real here..
anyway, she barges right on into his bedroom without any further preamble, closing the door behind her, and eyeing the flattened-prompto-shaped bump beneath the blankets. ah yes, she is so fooled, he must not be here after all. prompto who? ]
Hmm.. I suppose I shall have to eat this spicy soup myself..
[ she says aloud, to the empty room, while moving to seat herself at the edge of the super incredibly empty bed. there's much rustling of a paper bag.. ]
With this ice cold milk, and fresh, warm cookies. I suppose Prompto did not want them after all.
[ Let it never be said that Prompto Argentum has never had a girl in his bedroom before...
Even if he is currently pretending to not be in said bedroom. She thinks she can lure him out with the promise of delicious food, and she is...probably right. He is weak at the best of times, and now his defenses are particularly low thanks to the fact that his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton.
But no!! He will not yield. At least — not intentionally. But no sooner has she mentioned warm cookies does his stomach grumble, betraying his so very not obvious at all position beneath the blankets.
[ alisaie is silent for some time. quite awhile, actually, perhaps even a worrying amount of time. she's just waiting for him to let his guard down juuuust enough to loosen his grip so she can snag the blanket and yank it right down and off of him!!
hopefully he isn't actually naked...................... ]
[ It's tempting, but no, he's not actually naked. In fact, he's rather bundled to ward off the chills, though no matter how many layers he heaps on, it doesn't seem to help. He shudders when Alisaie draws back the sheets, wincing as if this is a wholly unexpected turn of events.
...Actually, he might've dozed off a little under there... ]
[ why is he so stupid sometimes? most of the time. good thing he's got his cute face, who knows how else he would have survived to adulthood. not that she's saying his face is cute or anything!! especially not now, when he's all gross.
she doesn't seem to mind, though - pretty much everyone looks gross right now. alisaie herself has even looked better - she's not sick, but she's been working tirelessly, and sleeping.. well, sometimes, probably. carefully, she sets the bowl of steaming soup on the table beside him and lifts the lid, the fragrant scent of spices filling in the air. ]
[ Well, it's come to this, despite his best(?) efforts. For a moment, his eyes flutter closed against his throbbing head, but a moment later he drags himself upright, shivering and coughing as his body adjusts to the new angle. It seems like even the slightest movement sets off that tickle in his chest, and it's a moment before his head even stops spinning enough for him to focus on her again.
Gods.
His voice sounds rusty and worn, like it's been stretched too thin. ]
Couldn't keep you away, huh? You sure you're okay with ending up — [ cough ] — like this?
[ She should be sequestering herself!!! But still, he's reaching for the bowl. ]
[ ah he sure sounds like death, but alisaie at least has tact enough not to say it aloud. not yet, at least, and maybe not quite in those.. terms.. either way, she winces in sympathy. being ill is never any fun, and alisaie has ever been a terrible patient.
truth be told she's not a terribly good caretaker, either, but.. she tries.. given how she at least nudges the bowl forward for him to be able to take more easily. ]
I share quarters with my brother, I am not like to find myself any more at risk here with you than I am in my own room. Besides, I am not the sort to easily sit on my hands. You understand.
[ scion duties or no, alisaie can't sit still when there's work to be done, and given how... uh, energetic prompto is, she's sure he can level with that. ]
[ It's just as things had been back in El Minha, except this time, Prompto is too ill himself to really do much for the others. He still tries to when he can, but any time he gets to his feet his head feels like it's going to pop from the pressure. Not exactly the ideal situation to be helping out other sickies in.
...Not that that will stop him, but whatever, she can kick his ass when she catches him out of bed later.
Taking the bowl in his hands, he lifts it to his mouth — but before he sips from it, he gives Alisaie a thoughtful look. ]
...Thank you. You really didn't have to do this.
[ There are plenty of other people who need her help, and yet she's here, helping him. ]
[ her immediate answer to that is a hard, searing look cast to him over the bowl. she's very, very tired, which means of course that her usual thin patience is thinner than usual, her tongue's edge further sharpened (who knew it was possible). ]
No one has to do anything for anyone, but I chose to. You would do the same for me.
[ for anyone, really. it's frustrating even at the best of times that he cannot see that, that for all he is happy to help even strangers he gets all twisted up when it is offered back to him. it's even moreso, when she has less energy for tolerance.
nevertheless, she waves one hand dismissively. ]
Besides, fetching you a bowl of food was hardly backbreaking work. Eat.
[ His head snaps up, almost like he's been splashed with cold water, at the sharpness in her tone. ]
I-I —
[ But she doesn't want to hear it, does she? Well...okay. He'll stuff the words of gratitude for now and eat, before he gets himself into further trouble, somehow.
...How did he get into trouble again???
Never mind. He takes up the spoon and begins to eat. Enjoy the sultry sounds of a sick man slurping his soup, Alisaie! ]
[ he looks abashed, and she cannot help but feel sorry for it - though she still proclaims that she is right, nevertheless, it feels like shouting at a puppy. alisaie sighs and rubs her eyes with her knuckles, her expression settling. ]
Goodness, no. I've no real experience in the kitchen.
[ i mean she's probably better than he is, but not by much.. ]
The soup was already prepared, I only added a little spice.
Hardly. It takes little enough skill to dump some powder into a soup.
[ she says, through a light chuckle. and prompto loves it spicy, so it was hard to go wrong, even if it's too hot for the average person. ah, look at his nose running, he is truly the picture of beauty and grace in this moment.
speaking of which, she has the time now to sweep her gaze over him with a little more scrutiny. he looks gross and miserable, but still.. more or less in one piece. that's so many blankets, though.. !! ]
[ He alternates between sipping the soup and wiping his already-red nose with a tissue — well, at least he can breathe more than he's been able to for several days? — while she gives him a once-over, and he can't help but wish he was...a little more presentable. Not just for his vanity's sake, but because he hates to make her worry about him. She...shouldn't, but he knows that pointing out as much will be met with stern words, no matter how undeserving he may think himself of them.
After a long draft of soup, he answers her, his voice sounding a bit less rough around the edges. ]
[ why did she even bother asking?? once all of this is over, she's going to have some strong words for him when it comes to shoving your insecurities with matters of personal health. pretending to be well will not make him well.
but she's already bitten his head off once today, so she gives him little more than a hard look, before she stands. ]
Your bedding wants changing.
[ he's all sweaty and germy, fresh linens are in order. ]
[ Look, at least he admitted it's not all sunshine and rainbows! That's no easy feat, especially when she brings up her next order of business. ]
O-oh, u-um, I... [ She's not suggesting she's going to...change his bedding, is she? ] I-it's fine! I mean, I'd just get the new sheets all gross too, so...
You could.. apply that logic to your sheets under normal circumstances, you know that, right? Or your clothing. Are you going to wear the same dirty shirt all the time because you will just soil it again?
[ she knows he won't because he's suck a finicky little vain boy. ]
Come now, up with you. You will not recover more quickly lying around in your own infection.
[ Its contents mostly drained now, Prompto sets the bowl of soup down on the nightstand, before opening his mouth to protest once more. She really doesn't have to touch his filthy, nasto sheets, he can do it himself if she's so concerned about it — but before he can get the words out, a cough sticks in his throat, leading him into a fit that doesn't subside until he's dizzy with his head bent towards his knees. ]
Urgh...n-not gonna take no for an answer, are you?
[ With a groan, he pushes himself to his feet at last, but tugs a blanket along with him. It does little to mitigate the chills racing over him, but still...
He toddles over to a nearby armchair, dropping into it unceremoniously. ]
[ nope, she's definitely not going to take no for an answer.. he should know her well enough by now to have known that all but immediately. thankfully she does not need to argue any further, his coughing fit alone is more than enough to drive her point home without any further assistance. really, he should change into fresh clothing as well, but she won't give them both a coronary this day..
alisaie finds the sheets without a problem, stacked up on the shelf of his closet as specified, above all of his edgy vests and black tank tops. she pulls them down and sets to work stripping his gross sickbed while conversing. ]
Honestly, I wish there was more I could do.
[ the sheets drop into the nearby hamper, and she sets to stripping the cases off of the pillows next, her voice dropping. ]
That this has even happened at all is.. [ a beat - she won't trouble him with her astoria rants right now, while he's ill. ] .. refreshing bedding seems the least I can manage. If only I had access to curative magic..
[ Not today, but she can help him change when he's gone blind, instead. :blush:
He curls up on the chair while she works, watching her through heavily lidded eyes while holding his knees to his chest. She does so much for him...more than she realizes. He'd only meant to use talking to her as a means to escape his boredom and pass the time, and yet here she is, changing his sheets, saying it isn't enough. Doesn't she realize how special that is? How special she is? How special she is, that she would give someone like him this treatment?
Aside from his friends, his brothers, no one...has ever really given him this kind of care or attention before. There's a sharp prick at the corners of his eyes, but it's easy enough to pass off as sinuses. ]
You're doing more than enough. Just...just make sure you take care of you, too.
[ Or it'll be El Minha all over again. He knows her tendency to overwork herself, and the reminder to rest every once in awhile is warranted. ]
she knows what the nature of his answer will be even before he voices it, but it is nowhere near enough. of course she could do more. she must do more. gods, but she is so tired of standing helplessly by while the people in her life suffer. she could do nothing for her grandsire, she could do nothing for emery, or ga bu, or the scions and civilians who have lost their lives. she can do nothing now for her brother, whose life is at stake back home, and here, should this illness grip him further.
she can do nothing for prompto, either. she can bring him soup, and change his linens, but that is about as much use as digging through a mountain with a spoon. it will not ease his pain, it will not cure what ails him. all she's doing is going through the movements to keep from going mad, to make her feel as if she is somehow making a difference, when she isn't. she's useless. deadweight. more people will slip through her fingers while she stands aside like a lost little girl, powerless to change it.
sometimes she wonders what the point of it all is.
of course, she says none of this, and only shakes her head, though her expression remains hard and grim, she does what she can to disguise her frustrations. ]
I'll be fine. Think about yourself.
[ what do a few sleepless nights matter, when he and so many others grow more sickly by the day?
the fresh sheets are on now, with a clean blanket as well, and she beckons. ]
[ He mutters again before summoning the energy to push himself to his feet again. For someone who's spent the last week lazing about in bed, he's sure feeling drained and sore...
But...this helps. Those freshly changed sheets look heavenly, and as he passes by her, he summons a soft, warm smile, letting his hand fall on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He lingers a moment, wiping at his eyes with his free hand, before moving to collapse onto the bed again. ]
That feels heavenly...you're a saint.
[ Don't think he didn't notice how she brushed off his concern there!! But he won't argue it right now. Not when his aching bones are sinking so perfectly against those soft and clean sheets.
He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, inhaling slow, shallow breaths. ]
I'd rather think about you...
[ ...No, he didn't really think those words through, but, uh, they're still true. ]
[ everyone knows that feeling, of slipping into fresh, crisp sheets - it's lovely, especially after a good bath, which he hasn't had but probably needs, but still. that she's managed to bring him even a small amount of relief is enough to urge a weary smile onto her mouth, just before she tugs off his blanket!! it's dirty!! there's a new one right here.
before he can grab it back she moves it away and tosses it to the hamper, before tugging up the fresh one she'd brought to pull it over him, though she pauses halfway, her cheeks warm. ]
Wha-
[ oh.. he means - yes. because she had told him to.. think about herself, but he's kind and thoughtful and wants to look after her instead - he didn't mean -
ahem. a-anyway. with her ears thoroughly reddened, she lifts her hands again to finish tugging up the blanket, but she stops again before she reaches his shoulders. ]
Y-you really should.. sleep only with a sheet, if you've a fever.
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anyway, she barges right on into his bedroom without any further preamble, closing the door behind her, and eyeing the flattened-prompto-shaped bump beneath the blankets. ah yes, she is so fooled, he must not be here after all. prompto who? ]
Hmm.. I suppose I shall have to eat this spicy soup myself..
[ she says aloud, to the empty room, while moving to seat herself at the edge of the super incredibly empty bed. there's much rustling of a paper bag.. ]
With this ice cold milk, and fresh, warm cookies. I suppose Prompto did not want them after all.
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Even if he is currently pretending to not be in said bedroom. She thinks she can lure him out with the promise of delicious food, and she is...probably right. He is weak at the best of times, and now his defenses are particularly low thanks to the fact that his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton.
But no!! He will not yield. At least — not intentionally. But no sooner has she mentioned warm cookies does his stomach grumble, betraying his so very not obvious at all position beneath the blankets.
Welp. ]
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Hmm..
[ alisaie is silent for some time. quite awhile, actually, perhaps even a worrying amount of time. she's just waiting for him to let his guard down juuuust enough to loosen his grip so she can snag the blanket and yank it right down and off of him!!
hopefully he isn't actually naked...................... ]
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...Actually, he might've dozed off a little under there... ]
Oh. F-fancy meetin' you here, Ali...
[ Don't look at him, he's so gross! ]
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You didn't really expect that to work?
[ why is he so stupid sometimes? most of the time. good thing he's got his cute face, who knows how else he would have survived to adulthood. not that she's saying his face is cute or anything!! especially not now, when he's all gross.
she doesn't seem to mind, though - pretty much everyone looks gross right now. alisaie herself has even looked better - she's not sick, but she's been working tirelessly, and sleeping.. well, sometimes, probably. carefully, she sets the bowl of steaming soup on the table beside him and lifts the lid, the fragrant scent of spices filling in the air. ]
Eat, you'll feel better.
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Gods.
His voice sounds rusty and worn, like it's been stretched too thin. ]
Couldn't keep you away, huh? You sure you're okay with ending up — [ cough ] — like this?
[ She should be sequestering herself!!! But still, he's reaching for the bowl. ]
Heh, or is this one of your scion duties?
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truth be told she's not a terribly good caretaker, either, but.. she tries.. given how she at least nudges the bowl forward for him to be able to take more easily. ]
I share quarters with my brother, I am not like to find myself any more at risk here with you than I am in my own room. Besides, I am not the sort to easily sit on my hands. You understand.
[ scion duties or no, alisaie can't sit still when there's work to be done, and given how... uh, energetic prompto is, she's sure he can level with that. ]
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[ It's just as things had been back in El Minha, except this time, Prompto is too ill himself to really do much for the others. He still tries to when he can, but any time he gets to his feet his head feels like it's going to pop from the pressure. Not exactly the ideal situation to be helping out other sickies in.
...Not that that will stop him, but whatever, she can kick his ass when she catches him out of bed later.
Taking the bowl in his hands, he lifts it to his mouth — but before he sips from it, he gives Alisaie a thoughtful look. ]
...Thank you. You really didn't have to do this.
[ There are plenty of other people who need her help, and yet she's here, helping him. ]
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No one has to do anything for anyone, but I chose to. You would do the same for me.
[ for anyone, really. it's frustrating even at the best of times that he cannot see that, that for all he is happy to help even strangers he gets all twisted up when it is offered back to him. it's even moreso, when she has less energy for tolerance.
nevertheless, she waves one hand dismissively. ]
Besides, fetching you a bowl of food was hardly backbreaking work. Eat.
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I-I —
[ But she doesn't want to hear it, does she? Well...okay. He'll stuff the words of gratitude for now and eat, before he gets himself into further trouble, somehow.
...How did he get into trouble again???
Never mind. He takes up the spoon and begins to eat. Enjoy the sultry sounds of a sick man slurping his soup, Alisaie! ]
...It's good. Did you make it?
[ He asks, sniffling. ]
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Goodness, no. I've no real experience in the kitchen.
[ i mean she's probably better than he is, but not by much.. ]
The soup was already prepared, I only added a little spice.
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That so? What kinda —
[ Hold that thought, because a big ol' sneeze is coming, and he needs all his focus to catch it before he sprays soup everywhere.
This is so attractive. ]
Urgh...a-anyway. What kinda spice?
[ The kind that makes people sneeze?? ]
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Um.. something to give it heat. Cumin? Some sort of pepper?
[ she knows he likes the spice!! and it clears the sinuses, too. ]
Is it all right?
[ she just kinda.. threw it in there.. ]
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Heh, yeah, it is. It's got juuust the right amount of kick.
[ And just enough to get his nose running... ]
You might be more of a chef than you realize!
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[ she says, through a light chuckle. and prompto loves it spicy, so it was hard to go wrong, even if it's too hot for the average person. ah, look at his nose running, he is truly the picture of beauty and grace in this moment.
speaking of which, she has the time now to sweep her gaze over him with a little more scrutiny. he looks gross and miserable, but still.. more or less in one piece. that's so many blankets, though.. !! ]
How are you feeling?
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After a long draft of soup, he answers her, his voice sounding a bit less rough around the edges. ]
H-had better days. Nothin'...too bad, though.
[ He says, pale and shivering. ]
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but she's already bitten his head off once today, so she gives him little more than a hard look, before she stands. ]
Your bedding wants changing.
[ he's all sweaty and germy, fresh linens are in order. ]
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O-oh, u-um, I... [ She's not suggesting she's going to...change his bedding, is she? ] I-it's fine! I mean, I'd just get the new sheets all gross too, so...
[ It's """""fine""""". ]
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[ she knows he won't because he's suck a finicky little vain boy. ]
Come now, up with you. You will not recover more quickly lying around in your own infection.
[ GET UP, PEASANT ]
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Urgh...n-not gonna take no for an answer, are you?
[ With a groan, he pushes himself to his feet at last, but tugs a blanket along with him. It does little to mitigate the chills racing over him, but still...
He toddles over to a nearby armchair, dropping into it unceremoniously. ]
Top shelf of that closet, over there.
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alisaie finds the sheets without a problem, stacked up on the shelf of his closet as specified, above all of his edgy vests and black tank tops. she pulls them down and sets to work stripping his gross sickbed while conversing. ]
Honestly, I wish there was more I could do.
[ the sheets drop into the nearby hamper, and she sets to stripping the cases off of the pillows next, her voice dropping. ]
That this has even happened at all is.. [ a beat - she won't trouble him with her astoria rants right now, while he's ill. ] .. refreshing bedding seems the least I can manage. If only I had access to curative magic..
[ BUT HEY SHE DOESN'T. ]
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He curls up on the chair while she works, watching her through heavily lidded eyes while holding his knees to his chest. She does so much for him...more than she realizes. He'd only meant to use talking to her as a means to escape his boredom and pass the time, and yet here she is, changing his sheets, saying it isn't enough. Doesn't she realize how special that is? How special she is? How special she is, that she would give someone like him this treatment?
Aside from his friends, his brothers, no one...has ever really given him this kind of care or attention before. There's a sharp prick at the corners of his eyes, but it's easy enough to pass off as sinuses. ]
You're doing more than enough. Just...just make sure you take care of you, too.
[ Or it'll be El Minha all over again. He knows her tendency to overwork herself, and the reminder to rest every once in awhile is warranted. ]
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she knows what the nature of his answer will be even before he voices it, but it is nowhere near enough. of course she could do more. she must do more. gods, but she is so tired of standing helplessly by while the people in her life suffer. she could do nothing for her grandsire, she could do nothing for emery, or ga bu, or the scions and civilians who have lost their lives. she can do nothing now for her brother, whose life is at stake back home, and here, should this illness grip him further.
she can do nothing for prompto, either. she can bring him soup, and change his linens, but that is about as much use as digging through a mountain with a spoon. it will not ease his pain, it will not cure what ails him. all she's doing is going through the movements to keep from going mad, to make her feel as if she is somehow making a difference, when she isn't. she's useless. deadweight. more people will slip through her fingers while she stands aside like a lost little girl, powerless to change it.
sometimes she wonders what the point of it all is.
of course, she says none of this, and only shakes her head, though her expression remains hard and grim, she does what she can to disguise her frustrations. ]
I'll be fine. Think about yourself.
[ what do a few sleepless nights matter, when he and so many others grow more sickly by the day?
the fresh sheets are on now, with a clean blanket as well, and she beckons. ]
Back in bed.
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[ He mutters again before summoning the energy to push himself to his feet again. For someone who's spent the last week lazing about in bed, he's sure feeling drained and sore...
But...this helps. Those freshly changed sheets look heavenly, and as he passes by her, he summons a soft, warm smile, letting his hand fall on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He lingers a moment, wiping at his eyes with his free hand, before moving to collapse onto the bed again. ]
That feels heavenly...you're a saint.
[ Don't think he didn't notice how she brushed off his concern there!! But he won't argue it right now. Not when his aching bones are sinking so perfectly against those soft and clean sheets.
He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, inhaling slow, shallow breaths. ]
I'd rather think about you...
[ ...No, he didn't really think those words through, but, uh, they're still true. ]
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before he can grab it back she moves it away and tosses it to the hamper, before tugging up the fresh one she'd brought to pull it over him, though she pauses halfway, her cheeks warm. ]
Wha-
[ oh.. he means - yes. because she had told him to.. think about herself, but he's kind and thoughtful and wants to look after her instead - he didn't mean -
ahem. a-anyway. with her ears thoroughly reddened, she lifts her hands again to finish tugging up the blanket, but she stops again before she reaches his shoulders. ]
Y-you really should.. sleep only with a sheet, if you've a fever.
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