˚ ༘ˀˀ ꒰‧⁺ 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚘𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 ✎ˀ

ˋˏ ༻🖤ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ☘️༺ ˎˊ

Words-1041
Requested by
▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈LiuLufied ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

"What do you mean you didn't know it was this bad-" the poet queried, a stressed expression evinced on his face.

"I said I'm fine." The detective replied, an angry demeanor laced in between his words. He pushed himself past the poet, his face pale; shades of pink on the end of his nose. A forced sniffle shifted from his mouth, his face growing tints of red.

"But you aren't fine-" The brunette spoke out, raising his voice at the other. He walked closer to the detective, his hand reaching out to rest on the blackettes shoulder; getting pushed away from a harsh hand.

"Go write your stupid book, stop worrying about me- I'm fine." He said, his voice dying out. The detectives words got lost in emotion, a sadness embedded in the lines of his soft and broken words.

He started stumbling, his hand trailing the wall beside him to catch his balance. His head fell into his hands, the walls tipping; becoming a blur.

"Hey- calm down, you okay-?" The poet asked, a rasp of worry in his tongue. The clicks of his boots came closer to the detective, a warm hand wrapping around his waist.

His eyes shut in pain, a straining agony beating in his head, mumbling every sound coming from the poet. "Yeah- I'm..I'm fi-" he was cut off by lose of consciousness; falling into the poets arms.

»»——⍟——««

A soft blanket had been placed onto the detective, the poet sitting next to him on the bed he'd been placed on. Clusters of pillows laid beside of the blackette, a noise of a song vaguely playing.

The detectives eyes opened to a soft hand resting on his head; pulling a smile onto his lips.

"I.....I made you a smoothie if you want it." The poet spoke, turning towards the top of a bedside table. Placed on the table laid a glass of a strawberry smoothie, a half cut slice of fruit topping on the rim of the glass.

His delicate fingers wrapped around the base of the tumbler, pulling it into the sights of the detective; flashing the blackette a soft smile.

"You made this?" He asked, his eyes drooping with curiosity. He seemed stunned, the act of gratitude offering storming butterflies in his stomach; pulling his lips into a bright simper.

"Yeah... do you not like it-?" The brunette said, a sound of defeat in his tone. He turned back towards the detective, a sparkle beneath those green eyes.

"No, I love it-" he chuckled softly, his eyes staring at the clear glass; swishing the pink liquid around, it hitting the side of the tumbler. His lips wrapped around the thin straw resting on the walls of the glass, the liquid running up.

The brunette waited for a response, looking at the detective with soft hearts resting in the gray shell of the poets eyes. "Louisa taught me how to make smoothies, so I thought to put that skill into practice." He awkwardly chuckled, his hand instinctively resting behind his neck.

"It tastes great." He replied, his lips upturned into a bright and soft smile; a childish beam. He set it down back onto the bed side table, his fingers enfolding around the soft blanket wrapped around him, muffling himself into it. Small whiffs of hair poked out from the edges, a part of the blanket over his head. He turned to look at the poet, tilting his head; sniffling slightly.

"You look cute." The poet nonchalantly spoke, a pink tint resting onto his cheeks. A smile creeped onto his lips, his head down towards the mattress of the bed.

The detective chuckled, pulling the brunette into the blanket with him, hugging the poet tightly. "You're cuter." He said, his smile in his words.

The pink of the poets cheeks only grew, spreading towards the tips of his ears. He chuckled again, the only way to make him feel less awkward.

The detective snuggled into the poet, a sniffle coming from his nose; a sense of a plug holding in the air trapped in his lungs. He sneezed away from the brunette, his eyes watering.

"You okay? Are you sick?" The poet asked, his smile turning into a frown, glancing at the detective. His hand ran to rest in the blackettes forehead, a heat emanating from the skin.

"I'm fine." The blackette spoke, lies spilling from behind his teeth. He sneezed again, more water filling his vision.

The poet stood up, walking towards a cabinet resting on the wall. Inside placed was a bottle of medicine and some pills. His hand reached for the bottle of medicine, glancing back at the detective.

The blackette had a pout on his lips, not looking forward to the idea of taking a bitter substance. He laid down, pulling the blanket over his face completely.

"You need to take it to feel better.." the poet sighed, placing the bottle down next to the half empty glass of left over smoothie. The brunette pulled the detective to face him, frowning down at him. "Sit up." He said, a stern action against his words.

"Why-" the blackette whined, yet obliged; sitting up with a pout. He glanced at the bottle of pungent liquid, sitting next to the sweet smoothie he enjoyed.

"You need it to feel better." The poet repeated, picking up the medicine, a spoon in his other hand. The red liquid dripped into the arch of the spoon, flowing up the full capacity.

The detective pouted up at the brunette, moving away from him; his arms crossing in a angry manor.

"Stay still-" the brunette sighed, pulling the blackettes face towards himself; hovering the spoon next to his mouth. "Open your mouth." He chuckled, pulling the detectives lips into a smile.

The blackette took the spoonful, his body shaking dramatically from the bitterness. He laid back down, pulling the poet down with him. His leg went over the brunette's, cuddling into his side.

"I love you~" the detective spoke out, smiling brightly.

"I love you too." The poet replied, falling asleep next to the other; the smile of the detective next to him replaying in his mind like a song, one of his favorite songs.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂