Time to bully Malachi some more, because he sorely needs development.
All my characters do really, but hey, we'll keep working on it lol. For now, it’s Malachi’s turn in the spotlight!
I know this one's a day late, but oh well, it’s here, lol. So enjoy!
Malachi could feel the low thrumm of a fever, buzzing underneath his skin.
It was Friday, mid-lunch rush, and Malachi was barely holding it together.
He was down a waiter with Tyler being sick. Food was coming out slower, guests were complaining, and it felt like too much.
His head ached, and he could feel a low, feverish heat buzzing beneath his skin as he helped plate up another dish before sending it out.
The heat of the kitchen made him sweat. His shirt was sticking to his oversensitive skin in a way that made him want to claw out of it.
Malachi kept it together, relieved when the tickets started to slow down to a manageable pace. Signalling an end to the chaos that was the lunch hour rush, giving him a moment to breathe.
As his heart rate came down, the kitchen seemed to tilt alarmingly in his vision.
He grasped the edge of one of the counters, attempting to steady himself, closing his eyes until the spinning stopped. It eventually did, as he warily opened his eyes again.
Malachi tried not to worry about it, figuring it was the heat of the kitchen getting to him, excusing himself for a moment to get a bit of fresh air.
He thought about the last time he’d had a sip of water, alarmed to find that he couldn’t remember.
Ducking into the office, Malachi pulled his water from his bag with shaky hands, sitting down as he took measured sips, trying not to upset his uneasy stomach. For the first time, he genuinely wasn’t sure if he was going to make it to the end of the day.
His head snapped up when the knob on the door to the office turned as he did his best to straighten himself out.
He let his body slump slightly when he realized that it was just Remi standing in the doorway.
“Damn, I thought the guys in the back were kidding when they said you looked rough,” Remi commented, striding across the room to where Malachi was, concern etched into his expression.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Malachi protested, his voice cracking underneath the strain, giving way to the fact that he was lying.
“Sure it isn’t.” Remi snorted, rolling his eyes as he knelt in front of the other man, glancing over him with a soft, unreadable expression on his face, which made Malachi’s face heat up in a way that wasn’t from the fever.
He reached out, and Malachi flinched as Remi pressed the large palm of his hand to his forehead. Cringing lightly, surely at the uncomfortable warmth he found radiating off the lean man.
“Maybe you should take a break. I can help with the kitchen plate food for a bit.” Remi told him, pulling his hand away.
Malachi thought about it; he could physically feel his resolve start to crumble, but he was a stubborn man.
“I couldn’t do that, we're down a waiter, you should be helping tables.” He protested.
“We’re past the lunch rush, I think the front of the house will survive without me.” Remi rolled his eyes, pushing back against Malachi’s weak defense.
Malachi grit his teeth, trying to come up with another excuse.
“Look, things are slow now. Why don’t you take a break, use this time to work on the new menus?” Remi appealed, knowing this was something that was stressing the shorter man out.
It’s at least keeping him stationary and busy.
Malachi narrowed his gaze at him, knowing that this was exactly what Remi was doing, and normally, he wouldn’t be so easy to give in.
But he’d reached his breaking point.
“Fine, but the second things get busy, you’ll come get me.” Malachi fired back at Remi, who just chuckled, surprised that he had the energy to be so fussy.
“Cross my heart,” Remi told him, drawing a cross over his heart.
Malachi gave him a short nod before getting to the menus, as Remi got back out onto the floor.