&. 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. ➽ ❛ i heard you were feeling sick, so i made you some soup. ❜ | @tosaveaforest
Truly, words of comfort to muffled ears. Soup was meant to heal the soul and provide nourishment, but its effectiveness often depended on the hands that crafted it. Unfortunately, she had learned this lesson through the unpleasant experiences of others.
Propped up in her bed--more a nest of blankets than a proper resting place--she radiated illness. Her normally pale skin glowed with fever, her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, and her nose, already naturally pink, was now an angry shade of red. Exhaustion clung to her, and she felt she might slip into unconsciousness at any moment, yet the discomfort coursing through her body kept her from truly sleeping.
The soup in question was a beloved staple: congee, albeit a bit more watery than usual. A mysterious oily sheen floated on top, stubbornly refusing to mix into the mush, no matter how much one stirred, and it seemed rather.. gray in color than the usual white. It felt cruel to refuse such a thoughtful gesture. With a quiet sigh, she accepted the offered spoonful-- an act she always enjoyed, despite her current state. She sank back into the wrinkled pillows, half-dazed.
The taste was a confusing blend of nothingness. It was neither savory nor sweet, neither spicy nor mild; the congee sat blandly on her tongue, thanks to her stuffy nose. Yet, beneath that odd texture, she sensed a hint of bitterness--perhaps the trace of something burnt. All in all, her sinuses seemed to spare her from the full force of whatever flavors someone healthy might have experienced. Still, she couldn’t help but squint at the perplexity of it all, perhaps a little miserable at the absence of one of her senses.