Breathless | LoZ SS Ghiralink

Not Enough

Ghirahim had kindly let Link say at his mansion somehwere near Faron Woods. He had his own room, however Link always failed to actually sleep in his bed. The demon had granted him access to his personal library, where he would find the hero asleep in a chair every evening. The lord would place a blanket on his shoulders and retire to his own room for the night. 

They would have dinner every evening as well. And instead of eating, the two would bicker over whether Link was actually making an effect on the demon. Ghira would always deny his claim and state it merely as him being a proper host. Little did he know he was lying to himself. It was always the little things that they fought over. Even if it pissed off the demon, Link would happily admit he liked the little disputes.

Five days in, the disease got worse again. 

They had been visiting in the courtyard when it happened. He had been releasing an occasional cough here and there, but then suddenly Link had fallen to his knees in an uncontrollable fit. He had passed out on the ground before the demon's feet. 

When he had woken up, he was curled up into a ball on Ghirahim's lap. 

"G-ghira? Wh-why am I sitting on your . . . lap?" Link said sitting up quickly, ripping off the arm that had been resting around him as well. 

"Normally, I would've left you in my room so I could keep an eye on your condition, but you started mumbling some nonsense about me leaving. About twenty minutes later you were having a nightmare, the easiest way to calm you down was by putting you there." Ghirahim looked at the boy with no expression whatsoever, it would kill him to admit that Link was cute when flustered. "You're heavy. Sitting like that for two hours was very uncomfortable, so you'd better have a good reason. If you would like . . . we can . . . talk about your unrest it if it's not too much if an issue."

"I'd rather not talk about it." Link sighed and started to move off of the demon but was soon stopped by the arm in his way. 

"You're still weak from earlier. Just stay where you are, it'd be better not to make things worse." He said, holding Link tighter than he really meant to. Goddess, he was failing to keep things hidden. Sooner or later Link was going to catch on, but for now he seemed pretty clueless.

"Oh . . . al-alright then." Albeit hesitantly, Link curled back up, relishing the warmth of the demon and the fire in the mantle next to them. His hand rested on the demon's bare chest, in the opening of his white attire.

When a shiver ran through the sleeping hero, Ghirahim simply smiled to himself and snapped his fingers to wrap his mantle around the teen. They wouldn't be like that when they woke up though. He mumbled something to himself before drifting off himself. 

Over the two days, Ghirahim couldn't even properly use words to describe their situation. 

Link, pretended he was fine. Although, he clearly wasn't fine. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, permanent darks spots had formed under his eyes, his skin was starting to become a pasty white, and that wasn't even the worst part of it. The wheezing and the blood  were the worst. 

The demon wanted to help, honest. But no, Link kept stubbornly refusing to have Ghirahim's help. He kept saying, 'You don't love me, and I'm nothing but a burden. I can take care of myself, Ghirahim. It-its not your re-responsibility Just  . .stop already.'