James x Reader | Pokemon | - | REWRITE |

Don't Let The Parasite Bite

You felt nudging on your shoulder. It was James, standing next to the bed and looking down at you. You were shocked for a moment to see him dressed in a color other than white. He was wearing just the black t-shirt that was under his Team Rocket top and long white boxers. You guessed it was later in the day, then, and wondered where he would sleep if you were so rudely taking up his bedspace. But that wasn't a very important question now. You heard James' voice, and you forgot what you were thinking about. "Just making sure you're still alive," he said.

Had you fallen asleep again? Sure, you were never the most awake of people, but falling asleep in such a short amount of time would be unusual for anyone.

"How long has it been?" you asked, just discovering the courseness of your voice. The last thing you remembered was James leaving the room.

"You seemed to fall asleep the moment I left," he replied. "It's been a few hours at least, but I wouldn't be surprised. Your sickness has only begun to take effect, so this bed-ridden behavior of yours should be the least of your worries."

"Gee thanks."

You slid yourself upright, letting the blanket fall to your legs. You saw the bottle of water that you assumed James placed on your nightstand, and even though you were thirsty, the thought of the water hitting your throat disturbed you---most likely because of the sickness rooted in your stomach. You would force yourself to drink it later, when your thirst was more dire.

Then again, thirst was always dire, and you knew that, at least in survival situations, you should never ration water. But this was not a survival situation, at least not in a dehydration sense. The only thing you had to survive was James' arrogance.

And you couldn't defend yourself so fast, since you were so drowsy you had to pause in your sentences. Humiliating, sure, but when you thought about it, maybe it would make James feel bad enough for you to be sated.

"If you need anything, I will provide," James said. But before he could sound too nice, he added, "The last thing I would want is to be charged with murder."

"All I need right now...is for you to shut up."

James smiled, but most likely to hide himself from shock than out of actual amusement. "Moody, are we? But I won't blame you, at least not in your current situation."

"Finally," you said, "does that mean I can say...whatever I want now?"

"I've never prevented you," James replied. "But don't assume I'll be listening."

"I'll keep that in mind, you...goon."

"Goon?!"

"Look who's still listening...You expected me to compliment you?"

"Certaintly not. That's expecting too much from someone as simple-minded."

"Maybe it is."

James was annoyed he couldn't trick you into complimenting him; you saw it in the subtle change of his expression.

Even though a part of you liked entertaining James with insults, right now your tiredness made you wish he just left you to sleep. But since you had just woken up---adding that you slept for hours on end twice this day, and it was only the evening---you knew you most likely couldn't go to sleep until some time early and late, like four or five AM. You knew your sleep schedule would be very affected, but since when has it ever been normal?

You yawned. "What...time is it?"

James checked his phone. "Five."

Five in the evening. Great. So you had slept all day, and were going to be awake all night---still tired but with your heart pounding thanks to this sickness, and unable to finally fall to sleep---like most nights, but this time much worse.