defect ➵ scömìche

five

Mitch Grassi's POV

THE SICK LIFE ISN'T THE best life. I wasn't that bad, maybe the flu or a cold, but I still felt like death. I was naturally lazier, quieter, moodier, and disgusting. I didn't want to show my face to the world at that moment.

Just then, as I forced myself off of my couch for some water, my phone dinged from its spot on the coffee table. I took it, just to see it was a text from Avi.

Avi:
Hey. Wanna go to dinner with me and Kev?

I sighed, texting him back. Of course, of all days he'd ask me when I'm sick.

Mitch:
i can't. im sick. sorry. just go w out me. :/

Avi:
I'm telling Kirstie to go over there then

Mitch:
Avi no

Mitch:
don't you dare

Avi:
Too late. She's gonna be there in like 10 minutes with Scott. ;)

Mitch:
fuck you.

Avi:
❤️❤️❤️

I groaned. They're gonna see me at my worst — when I'm sick. Ew.

I quickly (and painfully) went to the bathroom to fix myself up. I don't even know how I got sick. I think it was something from food, or maybe even Avi and Kevin's place. I blew my nose, fixed my hair, rubbed my eyes, and flattened out my shirt. Sure, it wasn't much, but I looked a bit better than I did before. Of course, it was painful and took everything in me to do so, but whatever. I curled back into the blanket on my couch when I walked back into the previous room, and just as I did, my door was knocked on. I groaned, "Come in."

Scott opened the door, looking at me with an emotionless face. "You shouldn't just tell people to come in. That's dangerous and stupid," he said. I rolled my eyes, "Like you'd care," I muttered without thinking. I wanted the Scott that got me cat food unintentionally, not this stone cold Scott.

Kirstie smiled from behind him, "Excuse him. He's a bit moody today."

"So is Mitch," Scott noted as Kirstie rolled her own eyes. They both held a bag, one with food and the other with what seemed to be medication.

"Thank you," I said, not even looking at Scott. Scott stayed silent as Kirstie said, "You're welcome — from the both of us."

I smiled. She looked around and nodded, "Nice place. Where's the kitchen?"

I pointed to the door that led to it, and she went in there as Scott stayed in the room with me. He looked at me, then to the door Kirstie just went through, and made a decision. He went through the door. I didn't blame him.

It was silent as I waited for them, whatever they were doing, and I heard my stove turn on. God, what are they doing? I stood up slowly, feeling the room spin as I struggled to get there, but somehow I did. I leaned against the doorframe and squinted my eyes at the sight of Kirstie rummaging around in my cupboards and Scott keeping an eye on the pot on the stove.

"What're you doing?" I asked, my voice a bit groggy. "Oh, we're just making you soup so it'll calm your stuffy nose and help your throat. Also, it's food. Don't complain."

"What type of soup?" I asked curiously. She looked to me, "Obviously chicken noodle."

I smiled, "Thank you, but you guys didn't need to come down here, you know. I can survive by myself."

"We insist!" Kirstie grinned, Scott not saying a single word as he stared at the pot.

She bumped him out of her way, mumbled a thank you, then took over as she did what she needed to. Scott just walked out of the room, probably to the tv room, and sat down on the couch. Wyatt found him, jumping onto his lap and cuddling with him as he purred. Scott seemed to be entranced by the cat. I took my focus onto Kirstie instead of the blond man.

"I'm sorry he's being a little rude today," she said. "It happens a lot. One day, he'll be so nice and fluffy, and the next he'll be rude and stone. I've learned to get used to it," she sighed. I pursed my lips, "It's no problem. I think I will be getting use to it pretty soon."

"You will, if you're around him enough," she said. She focused on the noodles, then after awhile, she took the pot off of the stove and to a burner that wasn't on, then turned the one it was on off. "It's done. Go sit down on the couch, I'll give you some."

I nodded, obeying, mostly because I felt like I was going to puke any given moment. I struggled getting to the couch, and apparently Scott noticed because he immediately got up and helped me, despite his rock hard demeanor.

"Thanks," I mumbled, sitting on it and sighing. I grabbed the blanket that was knocked on the floor and wrapped it around me. I was basically a burrito at that moment. Kirstie came through the door with a bowl of the soup, it seeming to be hot since I could see steam. I smiled gratefully, "Thank you."

She nodded, going back and soon returning with two other bowls, handing one to Scott and the other to herself. I was in the middle as Kirstie was to my left and Scott was to my right. I refused to look at either of them and concentrated on the tv instead. It was playing some old show, so I said, "You guys can change it if you want. I don't care."

Kirstie picked the remote up and did, and I noticed she was going to nickelodeon, as if to find a show. She saw SpongeBob, then went to it. It immediately showed the episode where SpongeBob talks about "Opposite Day" and completely annoys Squidward to the death and utterly ruins his chance of moving somewhere else whatsoever. We all began eating.

I wanted to laugh at some parts, but I felt like that'd be weird, so I held in my laughter.

I shifted once it was a little over halfway, setting my now empty bowl on the table in front of the couch. The other two followed soon, probably finishing themselves, and Kirstie looked to me. "Are you feeling better?"

I was about to respond, but as soon as I was going to, I widened my eyes when I felt something in my stomach rise. Oh shit.

I got out of my burrito and sprinted to the bathroom despite my clumsy state. I heard footsteps come after me quickly, and as I went to the toilet to puke what I had previously ate, I felt a hand on my back, rubbing in almost a soothing way.

I felt shaky as the contents of my stomach disappeared. I bit the inside of my cheek when I was done, breathing heavily. I hadn't thrown up so badly in years.

I ignored whoever was trying to soothe me, going to the sink and washing my face off. I wiped my mouth with a paper towel, shocked to see Scott instead of Kirstie in the mirror. I pursed my lips at him, and he didn't respond, but slightly smiled in a comforting way.

"Thanks," I said, for the fiftieth time that day.

***

a/n:: sorry for the late update :(