Ex's to Lovers

Chapter 51

In Which Alfred SUCKS At Recovering

There was a saying that Kiku liked to say; "Idiots dont catch colds", which Alfred had never really gotten, but in the way of a true idiot, managed to prove anyways. Alfred had always been sturdy, and resistant to most sicknesses, and was rarely sick.

This only served to make him that much more weak against sicknesses, since Alfred wasn't used to being sick and therefore didn't behave as a patient should and therefore made his illness last longer. For example, if Alfred was told to lay down and rest, he would certainly get up and play videos games or wander around. If he was told to eat light foods to settle his stomach, he'd order a burger and fries and end up throwing the heavy meal back up. 

And, for example, if Alfred was told to rest and not do anything strenuous, he might decide to suddenly go play basketball or do push-ups. 

"Alfred!"

Mathew was agast when he found Alfred attempting to do push-ups in the living room, face red and hot.

"You're supposed to be resting! Arthur says your fever isn't gone yet!" 

Alfred, who in no way, shape or form, was "fine", unsteadily tried to clamber to he feet, making the world spin. 

"I'm fine." 

Alfred said, bashing his elbow against the doorframe as he stumbled. Mathew, who had been Alfred's twin their whole life and knew Alfred well, and also just wasn't an idiot, knew Alfred was lying, and badly. Not that Alfred was ever good at lying. Mathew also knew exactly how to deal with Alfred. 

"You know, Kat told me that when Ivan gets sick, he listens and rests well, and gets better quickly." 

Ivan's older sister Katyusha had said no such thing, probably since Ivan was the type to pretend he was fine, no matter what state he was in, but Alfred wasn't the type to think things through, and instantly fell for the tactic usually used to manipulate small children into behaving. 

"Hmph," Alfred huffed, turning and making what was supposed to be a beeline, but was closer to a zigzag towards his bedroom, "even I can do that. It's not hard." 

Mathew followed him to the room to ensure Alfred did actually climb into bed to sleep off his fever, and only relaxed once Alfred tucked himself under the blankets. Alfred closed his eyes determinedly, like he could will himself to sleep, and Mathew hesitated at his brother's bedside. 

"Um, Al?" 

Alfred peaked one fever-bright eye open at him.and Mathew continued hesitantly. 

"Do you remember anything yet? A.. About what happened?" 

Alfred quickly closed his eye again, guiltily. 

"I already told you. I went to Gil, but then he told me I had to go home and then I woke up at Ivan's. I don't know anything else!" 

This was the edited version of his adventure Alfred had decided on telling, carefully omitting certain details as suited him. There was still a police investigation ongoing, but Alfred just remained evasive when they questioned him, and Arthur had been doing a wonderful job as a watchdog, chasing of anyone who tried to disturb Alfred while he recovered.

Which reminded Alfred.His blue eyes snapped back open.

"Hey, Matt?"

Mathew flinched, recognizing that tone and predicting the familiar question that Alfred asked periodically over the past two days since he'd been home recovering. Alfred asked it anyways, both unknowing and uncaring of Matthew's reaction. 

"Why hasn't that asshole Ivan come to see me yet?"

Bt which Alfred meant, of course, "Why hasn't Ivan come to gloat over how weak and sick I am?" In a suspicious sort of way, but Mathew understood to be "Why won't my beloved Fiancé come visit me on my sick bed? I miss him." in a wistful kind of way, thus the reaction.

Mathew frowned as he asked himself the question.

Why wouldn't Ivan visit?