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Crewel felt ill. Now that he was in his apartment, he could admit that to himself, but earlier in class, he refused to acknowledge his symptoms. The way he would pull his coat over his slightly shivering fame, tensing his shaking hand as he held the chalk, discretely wipe his sweat with his handkerchief— he did everything to hide his declining state. In the end, he did made it without anyone noticing.
As he flopped on his bed, he lazily pulls his tie off and tosses his gloves to the side. His fever spiked as his breathing became heavy. “Damnit, puppies had me running around all day…” he mumbled sleepily. He knew this wasn’t true, he never had trouble with his students at all. He just ignored and pushed through his work load this week.
So he closed his eyes, and drifted… he really should have…. dressed down or…..sent a message…..
The next time Crewel’s eyes fluttered open, his body felt warm and heavy, but he forced himself to look at the clock.
“7…..30…?” He mumbles tiredly.
“Why, yes, it is!” A sudden voice from above said.
”GAH!!” Crewel stumbled and struggled through the blanket as he shot backwards. In front of him, the source of that voice, was Crowley in the flesh. In his apartment?? “Headmaster, what are you doing—“ he started coughing, unable to finish his sentence.
”Why, I was worried when you weren’t at the teacher’s dinner. So I asked some students to help take care of you! Aren’t I so kind?” Crowley drawled in his ever so polite tone and raised hands of kindness.
Crewel’s coughs died down as he responds to Crowley, “Did you have to — cough— break into my apartment. Wait, you asked what?!”
Immediately as if to answer his question, Riddle Rosehearts and Vil Schoenheit entered the room. The former went towards Crewel with a glass of water. “Are you alright, Professor Crewel?”
Crewel didn’t answer as he took the water and gulped it down. As much as he wanted to ask questions, he was parched.
Meanwhile, Vil glared at Crowley. “Headmaster, I thought you promised you’d tell us if he was awake. You must know how awful it is to wake up to your scary mask first thing in the morning.”
Crowley gasped. “Schoenheit, how could you say such a thing?”
Vil didn’t relent. “Did you or did you not scare Professor Crewel when he woke up?”
That got Crowley looking up at the ceiling. “Ah, so you two have it handled I just remembered a teacher’s meeting, ta ta~”
”Headmaster!” Vil just sighed and shook his head.
Crewel sighed and finally had the strength to ask questions. “What’s this about you puppies being called here?”
Riddle cleaned up the glass and frowned in concern. “It’s a bit of a long story, are you up to talking, Professor?”
Vil approached Crewel’s bed, finally able to talk to him. “Riddle is right. You still look awful.”
Crewel had been sporting a pained frown all this time, the sleep hadn’t help his headache, or the weakness on his body at this moment. A fever, no, the flu.
Defeated, he lied back down. “Fine, I’ll rest for now. But you two puppies should explain things later.”