romanticist; a felinette story

chapter twenty-two; sick days

you know you're on my mind?

(marinette pov)

I wake up, my head pounding.

We leave today, our flight was early.

The sun wasn't up, I heard zips of suitcases.

I felt a little dizzy.

"Felix?" my voice cracked. I put my hand on my throat.

Shit.

"How're you feeling?" he runs over to me, nearly slapping my forehead.

"Never better!" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Great, okay we gotta leave in 10 minutes." he says, I nearly fall jumping out of the bed.

"WHAT? WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP?" I yell, panicking.

I didn't even pack my stuff up yet!

"We got home late, didn't want you to get sick or something." he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Plus, I packed your bag." he says, pointing at my bags.

"Thanks.. Felix." I say, butterflies fly in my stomach.

Why did my stomach just, have butterflies? Wow, I must've died and went to crazy-land.
—

When we finally boarded the plane, I was so tired, I fell asleep.
—
(felix pov)
(20 minutes away from home)

Marinette woke up and fell asleep over and over, I began to be concerned.

Is she sick?

I felt her forehead, it felt hot.

Oh god.

We still had 20 minutes on this airplane, and then my driver should pick us up.

Her face was red, and sweaty.

"Excuse me, ma'am." I wave for a flight attendant.

"Yes, Mr. Agreste?" she asks.

"Can I get a cup of COLD water? Please?" I ask, feeling Mari's head once again. My heart is pounding.

"Right away." she says, noticing the panic on my face.

"Mari, Mari!" I tap her awake.

She groans. "What?" she says, nearly slapping my face.

The flight attendant brings her water, "Merci!" I say, with relief.

She nods and walks off. "Mari, you have a big fever, you need to drink this." I say, she looks completely out-of-it and confused.

"What?" she says.

I put the water to her lips, "Drink it." I say.

She chugs it. "Not too fast, don't throw up." I say, praying she doesn't vomit in this airplane.

She's still in her plaid pajamas, she forgot to change I suppose.
—
When we land, I hurriedly grabbed Mari's carry on and held her hand throughout the airport. She complains on the way, how she was sweaty and dizzy.

We had to pick up our luggage, at this point she looked like she was going to HURL. She was leaning against my side, her hands holding onto my jacket.

When we got our luggage, I ran swiftly through the airport, trying to get her home.

She kept saying how she wanted her bed, and her parents.

She told me her floor in her apartment, and how she wanted to go to bed. Over and over.