L4d 1 & 2 oneshots ❤ (CLOSED)

Rosół

For  K0BR4_K1D! Your request was a bit hard since it was a bit vague, but I hope this is good!

Ship: Foey? Zancis? Bikerangst? IDK. (Zoey x Francis)

Warnings: None, this is pure fluff.

~~~

Zoey shuddered, bringing her arms up to fling off whatever was keeping the sweltering heat on her. God, it was so hot, it was unbearable. She felt like she was in an oven. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple at the exertion. Why was she so tired? Yesterday couldn't have been so hard on her, right? Zoey didn't remember anything serious, only that she had an aching stomach. She coughed and tried to fight the blanket off again, this time succeeding and allowing some cool air to flow over her.

Zoey panted, her throat burning and scratchy. Sweat collected on her forehead, sticking her bangs down. She groaned, releasing another rough cough. Zoey opened her eyes- well, tried to. She saw nothing but blurry shapes and bright yellow light that made her head ache. Zoey groaned again, throwing an arm over her face to shield herself from the overwhelming brightness.

Heavy footsteps preceded the door creaking open. Zoey tensed, fearful of her new visitor. The door clicked shut and a sigh came from the other survivor.

"Goddamn it, Zoey," Francis said, picking her blanket up from the floor, "I told you- keep this on!"

"Wh- Francis?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out."

His voice, despite the sarcasm, was gentle and soft. Zoey blinked at the blurry figure above her. Francis took her arm, laying it down before tucking the blanket up to her chin. Zoey wriggled underneath, trying to get away from the forming oven.

Francis sighed, "Zoey, you need to break the fever. You'll be sick longer if you don't."

Zoey grumbled, "'m hot."

"That's the point." Francis ruffled her hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when I'm done cooking."

Zoey shook him off, "You're cooking?"

"Yes. Go back to sleep," Francis replied, standing with a grunt.

"No! I wanna know what you're cooking!" Zoey mumbled, trying, and failing, to pull the blankets off and get out of bed.

Francis sighed, "Zoey, if you don't let me leave, the soup will be ruined. Go. Back. To. Sleep!"

Zoey huffed, "You're being meeeaaan Francis! Where's Louis and Bill? They'll agree with me."

Francis groaned, running a hand down his face, "They're getting supplies, Zoey. They aren't here. Go back to sleep or else you're not getting any food."

Zoey huffed again, folding her arms under the blanket, muttering to herself. She flipped away from Francis, hearing him sigh and shut the door as he left the room. She wasn't going to sleep, not at all. Zoey wasn't tired. She was going to stay up every second until someone came back into the room to check on her. Zoey was determined to get under Francis' skin.

She blinked, vision wobbling as she was shaken awake, "Wh- huh?"

"Morning, sleepyhead," Francis laughed, a smirk in his voice.

Zoey shook her head, feeling much better but still impossibly overheated, "W-What happened, what time is it?"

"It's only been- oh, three hours. Feel any better?"

"Three hours!? When did that happen?"

"While you were sleeping," Francis said, with a snort. "Now, sit up, you gotta eat."