Symphonies; Septiplier

1.0

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Jack: Sunday, 23 July
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After doing a few things around the house, I wandered upstairs and tapped gently on the wood of Mark's door. When he didn't answer, I cracked the door open and peeked inside. He was laying under the covers and I walked in the room, shutting the door behind me I took slow steps over to the bed.

If he was sick, and he was sleeping, then there was no reason for me to wake him. But when I stood near him, I felt his arms grab around my waist and yank me down onto the bed so that I rolled over him and was pinned between him and the wall.

"M-Mark!?" I immediately panicked. He didn't answer, instead he kept his eyes closed. "I know you're not sleeping." He let out a incoherent grumble and I let out a sigh as I tried to climb back over him to get off the bed, but when I did, he held onto me with a death grip.

"Mark you need to let me go, I have work to do!" I huffed as I pushed back on him. "I thought you were sick, how are you so strong if you're sick?"

Mark opened his eyes at this point and rubbed them before releasing me. He was sitting there chuckling the whole time. "You're awfully red." He told me with a raspy morning voice.

"Well excuse me, I don't necessarily like being forced onto beds!" I huffed as I successfully got off the bed and adjusted my clothing. "Your mother told me to come check on you because she said you are ill, but it doesn't look like you're too ill to me, Mr. Fischbach!"

"No, I am, really." Mark whined.

I let out a sigh, I couldn't sit here and call him a liar. How was I supposed to know how sick Mark was? I mean, I didn't believe him, but I would go along with it. "Well, I have a lot to do today. I can't sit in with you all day, I will periodically come check on you."

"How often?" Mark asked.

"I don't know, every thirty to sixty minutes." I sighed. "What's the matter with you, anyways?"

"I dunno, I'm not a doctor." Mark shrugged.

"Well, fortunately for you, I know quite a bit about medicine." I said as I folded my arms across my chest. "Does your head hurt?" I reached forward and placed my hand on Mark's forehead. "You're hot."

"I know I am." Mark chuckled.

"Not like that!" I huffed. "I mean, you probably have a fever by the looks of it." I thought about it for a moment. "Why is it so hot in here anyways? It's July, why did you turn off the air conditioner?"

"Cause I'm cold." Mark whined.

"You're cold?" I asked and Mark nodded. "Okay, I'll get you something cold for your head and a couple more blankets. Have you eaten today?"

"No."

"So I'll get you something light on your stomach and something to drink. I'll be back." I said.

"Thank you." Mark smiled. For a sick boy he clearly had a good attitude and merit to himself.

"Don't thank me yet." I said, clearly unamused.

I exited the room and did just what I said I would. I made Mark toast and put butter on it as well as a glass of water. I then grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water before wringing it out and folding it neatly on the tray. Before going back into Mark's room, I threw a couple of blankets over my shoulders and walked into Mark's room where he was still patiently waiting in his bed.

I set the tray down on his desk before throwing the blankets over him and putting the cloth on his head. "Are you going to take my temperature or anything?" Mark asked.