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Choromatsu worries too much.
“Enough blankets?”
You croak out a “mm-hmm” with difficulty and he immediately whimpers in distress.
“No, you need to stay quiet! Your throat is sore, you can just nod, thumbs up, shake your head no, just… please.” He makes sure your legs and feet are covered, and kneels in front of you on the couch, making sure you don't have to move too far to look over. “Not too warm?” You shake your head no. “Not too cold?” No. “You're Goldilocks?” You nod yes, and he sighs in relief, frown growing less severe. “Stay cozy, ok? I'll go, er. Do my usual!”
He brings up something happy but not too high energy on YouTube to watch while he's in the kitchen. You honestly pay more attention to him than to the video, peeking over at the door into the kitchen as he paces nervously and mutters to himself about ingredients.
“Do we even still have licorice root? Licorice root, licorice root… licorice root! Check! There we go! Anise next, check, anise was easier. Marshmallow root, cinnamon, orange peel; check, check, check!” He gets down a glass teapot with a column of mesh in the middle, and nearly wails when he realizes something: “I never started the water!” He scrambles across the floor in his socks, nearly colliding with the cabinets on his way.
The poor little frog was in peak panic mode, but he wasn't distracted from his cause for a second. The tea is immediately scooped into the basket, the boiling water poured in, and the timer set.
He peeks his head into the doorway, “How do you like your tea? One clap for weak, two for strong?” You give two claps. “All right, ten minutes!” You wave frantically to get his attention, and he walks back in, concerned. “You need to stay quiet.” He kneels by your side, just in case.
You pause for a moment before you mime scooping in sugar and pouring in cream, and his face goes from concerned to slightly miffed. “This tea doesn't need any of that.” You point to your face as if to say 'but I do!’ “No! It really doesn't! All those add-ins will only mess up your throat even more, and honey would make what's already sweet in this blend too overbearing! Believe me, you'll thank me.” He pats your hair and stands back up. “I'm checking on the tea. Just wait for it, ok?” He looks almost hurt when he adds on, “Trust me.” Well, damn it, now you have to.
He returns soon, the reddish colored tea in hand… in one of his favorite mugs. Oh, no. Choromatsu's going to make you feel like the worst person ever and he certainly isn't conscious enough to do it purposefully.
“When you drink it, um. It's got licorice and anise in it, and I know some people don't like the taste, but… take tiny sips. The aftertaste is better than the actual flavor for most people.” Choromatsu holds out the still steaming mug, and immediately clasps his hands when you take it.
Once you sip it, the mixture tastes, well. It tastes like leaves, but the aftertaste is sweet and a little bit flowery. You almost feel a glaze resting on your tongue, and you look at him with surprise in your eyes.
“Choromatsu's classic throat coat tea blend! Your tongue may feel a bit odd, but your throat will feel a bit calmed down. You still shouldn't talk, but it'll hurt a lot less if you need to. You'll need to have at least three cups of this a day. I have a spare tea ball, if you need it? You can have the rest of the pot soon, and the last one before you sleep.”
He's fretting so much, and you have no idea how to thank him for his worrying and his special blend, so you choose to smile and take another sip with a happy little sigh.
Choromatsu goes pink immediately, mumbling “so cute!” just loud enough to be heard. He excuses himself to blend enough for you for a few days, hits the doorframe on the way in, and he continues his gushing as he gathers up his ingredients again.