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It’s unfair, Ivan thinks. How Ruwanda could go outside in the cold wearing less clothes than him and Ivan is the one who gets sick. Ruwanda deserved it more than him. In fact, it was Ruwanda’s fault he was sick anyways, sneaking up behind Ivan and sitting snow in his shirt. Everyone— except Ivan— found it hilarious at the time. Not so funny now that he caught himself a cold.
May wouldn't let him sleep in his own bed, since it was in the top bunk, so he had to stay in Ruwanda’s bed. Neither of the boys were happy about this, but Ivan was the one to complain the most.
He sniffed miserably, bundled in way too many blankets. May made sure he was covered up before leaving, even though Ivan argued he was fine. May wouldn't listen, only covered him up more while lecturing him. He didn't like that cocky look on Ruwanda’s face, snickering when May asked him again if he would be okay alone. Ruwanda stopped laughing when May told him he was in charge of taking care of Ivan. Not that he wanted a freak to take care of him anyways. If Ruwanda played nurse then his cold would get worse. Maybe even die. He’d be way better off if Ruwanda minded his own business, but he pulled up a chair next to his bed. Thankfully, he brought his books with him too, chances were he would be so focused on that he wouldn’t try anything.
Today was the worst day of Ivan’s life. He was already boiling alive from the layers of blankets and clothes he was under, but now his face was completely red and burning from embarrassment. He got treated like a baby by May and now Ruwanda is his babysitter. Not to mention, despite feeling so damn hot, he couldn't stop shaking. And if he sneezed one more fucking time, Ivan will commit manslaughter.
Ruwanda was enjoying Ivan’s pain for the most part. Everytime Ivan reminded him that he was in pain, Ruwanda would pull himself from his book to grin at Ivan. Sometimes, he’d throw some snarky comment he thought was funny. Although he got bored pretty quickly, and even got annoyed too, from how often Ivan was sneezing. He would stick his head out from his book to tell Ivan to shut up, as if he could. Ruwanda had no right to complain, he wasn't the one sick.
Ivan decided staying up would do nothing for him; sleeping would make him feel better. Then he could escape the pain and Ruwanda with his stupid little books. Falling asleep was nearly impossible though. Everytime he would feel so tired he couldn't keep his eyes open, he would sneeze, and some coughing fits would start soon later. The more he coughed and sneezed, the more Ruwanda backed his chair away with a disgusted look on his face. Brat.
If Ivan had any energy, he would mock Ruwanda for being worried he would catch something. The thought of him purposely coughing in Ruwanda face was hilarious. Ruwanda would do that screech he does whenever Ivan was doing something he didn't like.
He never ended up saying or doing anything though, finally drifting off to sleep.
————
It took Ivan about five minutes to realize he woke up, and another five minutes to realize something soft was poking at his face. Annoyed, Ivan grabbed it and opened his eyes to see Ruwanda right up in his face.
He opened his mouth to question him, but ended up sitting up— headbutting Ruwanda on his way— for a coughing fit. After he had calmed, he eyed Ruwanda, who was looking very pissed, and holding a cloth in his hand. Ah, so that was what was touching his face.
“What s’that for?” Ivan’s voice was far more croaky than it was earlier today. He pointed at Ruwanda’s cloth, which Ruwanda stared at for a good few minutes like he didn't know what he was doing with it in the first place.
“You were sweating in your sleep,” Ruwanda explained. “It was gross.” He added. Ivan knew that already, Ruwanda thinks everything about being sick is gross. He wouldn't be surprised if he came in with a gas mask later.
Ruwanda stood up, and wiped the nonexistent dust off his clothes. “Anyways, the soup should be ready now.”
Soup? Ivan wanted to ask but Ruwanda left as soon as Ivan could register what he said. Did Ruwanda make him some soup? Ridiculous. Before he went to sleep, Ruwanda clearly had no interest in taking care of him. Suddenly he wakes up and Ruwanda is wiping away his sweat and making him soup.
He was probably still dreaming. The real Ruwanda was probably reading his book or left to go do something else. Yet he couldn't seem to wake up, and everything felt too real.
Ruwanda came back in the room with a bowl indeed full of soup. Ivan started to get really suspicious. No way he would make him some soup so he could get better, Ruwanda doesn't benefit from it. Ruwanda never helps Ivan unless it benefits him.
Although, Ruwanda wanting his bed back and refusing to catch Ivan’s cold could definitely be a benefit for him. So maybe there were reasons for Ruwanda trying to help Ivan get better. Ivan still hasn't touched the soup, trying to decide whether it was poison or not.
“I’m not blowing the damn thing for you, do that on your own.” Ruwanda scoffed. Ivan stuck his tongue at Ruwanda.
“Dun’ remember askin’ for yer help, anyways.” Ivan grabbed a spoonful and blew on it, before shoving it in his mouth.
It was better than Ivan expected. In fact, it was really good. It reminded him of his mother’s old soup, and her gentle voice as she’d tuck him into bed. Not to mention drinking some liquid felt nice after coughing so much. He found himself addicted to eating it, the bowl was empty in the blink of an eye.
Ivan found himself incredibly tired after that, though. He handed the bowl and laid back down. Ruwanda started to leave, but Ivan reached out and grabbed his sleeve. Ruwanda turned around, looking curious and annoyed.
“What now?” He asked, looking impatient to wash the bowl and spoon for whatever reason.
“Thank ye,” Ivan muttered. Ruwanda blinked, and stared at Ivan like he heard him wrong. “For th’ soup. S’was good.” Ivan let go of his sleeve and turned away from Ruwanda, not wanting to see his reaction. He didn't see any, only hearing the clinging of the dishes and the sound of the door.
Ivan didn't have time to wonder what face Ruwanda made, as sleep caught him quickly and he drifted off.