Work Text:
In the dimly lit chambers of their lavish palace,
the clock struck an ungodly hour.
Napoleon Bonaparte tossed and turned in his silk-draped bed.
His mind plagued by a tumultuous concoction of anxiety and discomfort.
Napoleon clutched his stomach as a wave of nausea overcame him.
With a loud retching sound,
he doubled over and threw up,
the echoes bouncing off the ornate walls.
The clock struck midnight as Napoleon made his way to Josephine's room in the dimly lit palace.
He stood before her door,
nerves fluttering in his stomach.
With a deep breath, he knocked softly.
"Josephine, it's me."
He called, voice barely above a whisper.
After a while, the door creaked open,
Josephine appearing in a dainty nightgown,
concern etched on her face.
"Napoleon, what's wrong?"
He shuffled his feet, avoiding her gaze.
"I frew up."