Chapter Text
Lore loves beetroot, always have and always will. He especially loves it in their soups, so naturally if their partner is sick, he'll make them a nice beetroot chicken soup. Good for fevers! He had been told.
He chopped the beet with precision he's used many times before. Cutting the veggie into thin pieces for his lover’s fragile digestive system.
Lore’s knife grazed over his index fingertip, blood pooling at the nerve. He flinches back, immediately putting the finger into his mouth to sooth the pain.
Then he heard a ding? An alarm? Some form of loud noise that made him jump. He turned around, vision blurred so he couldn't quite make out who was invading his home?
“Lorree~” the voice cooed. Lore did not give it a response
“Lore!”
“Lore wake uppp!!” the voice repeated, multiple voices overlapping in his already too crowded mind.
“Lore! Lore!!” he could hear the voice better now, a familiar one of his wonderful lover.
He opened his eyes, but why were they already open? He focused his vision on his partner, something to ground him, he thought.
“Lala," he yawned, “its too early, whaddya doing? Ya ruined my dream.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, sticking his tongue out at where he assumed Lala was.
He felt a strange cuff around his shoulder, shit. He was still here?!
As the blood pressure monitor was tightened around his left shoulder he felt pain, cold and sharp. He knew this pain, and he knew it well.
Lore could only hope the nurse was too oblivious to notice his self-inflicted injury and just focus on her stupid job.
“Happens every dayy." Lala teases, pointing at the monitor being squeezed around their boyfriend’s arm.
“It wouldn't happen if you don't wake me up every morning”
“That's not true”
“Well, at least i wouldn't be conscious for it.” Lore retorts back, “I would much rather have my ‘vitals’ taken when I am blissfully unaware” the patient states, batting his eyelashes.
The nurse—neither Lore nor Lala could remember her name despite her name tag—rolls her eyes playfully, recording Lore’s vitals and turning back to her computer.
Lore kicks his legs giddily over the edge of the bed. Hoping his bastard nurse will leave and his breakfast will arrive.
As the Nurse turns back around she holds a small cup of something Lore hates—he doesn't know what they are or why he hates them—a bunch of small capsule, some round and some oblong. The nurse holds out the cup to Lore, seemingly telling him to take it
“This isn't my breakfast” Lore states, matter-of-factly.
“Indeed it's not, but you have to take them” Nurse responds, shaking the tiny cup in her periwinkle-gloved hand.
When Lore takes too long to answer and glances over to Lala, the nurse grabs his chin and forces his mouth open.
Lore sputters out curses as he feels the pills shoved into his mouth. Pills- PILLS?
Lore grabs the Nurse’s wrist, sharp nails digging into her gloved flesh and pushing her away.
He coughs up the pills that had just barely escaped going down his throat. Lala rushes to his side, questions spilling from their spiked mouth. Questions of
“Are you okay?"
“Did you take any of them?”
“bite her”
Lore listens when Nurse moves to grab his collar, biting down hard on her hand, protruding canines ripping through latex and skin.
Nurse let's out a loud “FUCK” before correcting herself and apologizing to some Dog that Lore doesn't know about.
Lore crosses his arms and legs, leaning back against the wall of his bed and pouting. His lover coming right up beside him, leaning their head against his shoulder as a form of comfort.
He faintly hears the Nurse speak, not bothering to tune in to know. Why should he?!
Well, he didn't care, until he saw the DREADED uniforms of the Ward's security officers.
C’mon man? Again? It's 6 in the morning and Lore hasn't even gotten his beloved strawberries and bacon.