How ironic it is, Gluttony thought, that the doctor is sick.
It was the eighth day of being bed-ridden, and he was sick of it. Wrath, surprisingly, didn't blow up at him, even though he didn't seem too impressed at being stuck baby-sitting him.
Sighing, Gluttony reached over to check his temperature. He'd felt less horrible, so maybe, just maybe, the fever is dying down.
The thermometer confirmed it. His temperature was down to thirty-seven Celsius. Internally, he did a victory dance. Even though the headache was still there and the roots of the flowers he'd coughed up were still firmly planted in his lungs, at least there was a breakthrough.
A positive thing in the middle of an absolute fucking shitstorm of misery.
He slid down from his bed and steadied himself. The headache was at the same level as the ones he got every day from constantly overworking himself, so it was bearable.
Slowly, he walked towards the balcony in his room and opened it. Gluttony was immediately greeted by the fierce wind and the smell of fresh air and petrichor. A soft drizzle of rain fell on his hair.
He smiled. He'd missed the rain.
VOUS LISEZ
𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦
Fanfiction𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑳 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 end in happy endings - in breathless kisses and in laughter, in smiles and in tender caresses, no matter how they start. But this is the tale of a Juliet and her Romeo. This is the story that starts with life...
