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Sitting at his desk, Vio’s palms dug into his eyes. He’d been trying to organize his notes for who knows how long. It feels like it’s been an hour, but with a growing pain behind his eyes and the nauseous feeling in his stomach, Vio hasn’t a clue how long it’s been. The violet hero’s hands moved from his eyes, allowing him to look over his desk. He was about to start moving paper around once more when there was a knock at his door.
“Vio,” a voice called out, just a bit too loudly, “You alive in there?”
Vio couldn’t place the voice for once. Usually, it was easy for him to tell people’s voices apart, but the pain behind his eyes was making it hard to focus. It must be either Green or Blue, as Red had gone out that morning and hadn’t returned yet. Given that Vio’s door was opening and letting in an unholy amount of light, it was safe to assume it was Blue.
Squinting at the doorway for a moment is all it takes for Vio’s headache to set in properly. Blinking back tears, Vio’s hands move to cover his eyes again. Though before he can do anything, there are hands on his wrists, gently tugging back. Blinking again, Vio finds himself face to face with–as he suspected–Blue, who has an oddly blank look on his face.
“...Blue?” Vio’s voice is wavering and quiet, and the feeling of bile rising in his throat intensifies.
Blue’s face morphs through several expressions before settling on exasperated, “Idiot. If you were sick, you should’ve laid down.”
“I was fine.”
The hero in blue rolled his eyes as he let go of Vio’s hands. Vio was having a hard time figuring out what the other was thinking. He had started to look around the room, raising a brow at the state of Vio’s desk.
“I hadn’t finished-” Vio started, but he cut himself off as he brought a hand to his mouth.
Blue’s focus returned to Vio, the questioning look directed at him instead. Vio could feel himself flush at the look, turning to look anywhere but at Blue. It wasn’t his fault he got sick. That’s something no one can control.
A cold hand landing on his head snaps Vio out of his thoughts. Blue’s concern slowly makes itself known as he tries to figure out if Vio has a fever or not. While the concern is nice, Vio really needs to throw up.
Pushing Blue to the side, Vio reaches around blindly for his trash can. Pulling it to his chest once he grabs it, Vio finds himself leaning over the edge to vomit. The bile was unpleasant as it climbed his throat, and it only got worse as it spilled from his mouth. The taste was terrible, a disgusting combination of everything he had eaten that day. Vio finds his hair being pulled out of his face and tied back as he empties his stomach.
Moments pass as Vio leans over the trash can, unable to move himself for fear of inducing more vomit. He must look pathetic, hunched over as he is. Vio keens as the trash can is pulled from his arms. What if he needs it again soon? Cold hands make their way under Vio’s shoulders and legs, slowly lifting him out of his chair.
While startled, Vio isn’t surprised. He finds himself leaning into Blue as he slowly maneuvers around the room. He can hear Blue talking, but the words fly over his head. The pain behind his eyes is too difficult to ignore.
Vio is lowered onto his bed with great care. A not-so-rare show of affection from Blue.
“Dammit, Vio. How did you get this sick?” Blue mutters as he adjusts Vio’s blankets.
The only reply Blue gets is Vio humming, a noncommittal answer.
“Very helpful, Vio.”
Vio simply hums again, letting his eyes finally slip closed. Sadly, he does not fall asleep immediately. As much as it would have been nice to be asleep, that is simply not how it works.
The bed dips, and Vio cannot be bothered to look and see if Blue sat down. He assumes that is what happened, but it could be something different. Vio can hear Blue talking again, but the words continue to drift past him. The sound of Blue’s voice–even if he isn’t processing anything–is comforting. Relaxing, even.
Blue talking is a nice distraction from the pain. Though irritating his brain, Blue’s voice is way less than trying to continue to organize. Vio does try to start paying attention, but the longer he lies there, the easier it is to just let his brain turn off. The easier it is to fall asleep.