Person A is supposed to go to a big, fancy gala tonight for their family but the morning of it, they wake up with a fever, chills and nausea and Person B (maybe their roommate) is trying to convince them not to go but they’re insistent on it so through the day they start to feel sicker and sicker until a half an hour before they have to leave, Person A collapsed in the apartment and Person B finally gets them to stay home and takes care of them for the rest of the evening
A reaches for the doorknob--they think they’re reaching for the doorknob, but in reality they’re twisting a stressball left on the nearby bookshelf and wondering why the door won’t open. “What the hell...Where’s the stupid lock?”
“Would you sit down already? If you can’t open a door, you’re not fit to drive a car.”
Remembering that the venue is about a 30 minute drive, A is hit by another wave of nausea and dread. Mostly nausea. They take a step back to reconsider, and to gather themselves so they don’t throw up, but conclude, maybe a little deliriously, that their family would never forgive them if they skip this event. What it’s even for, A can’t quite remember right now, but this is important. Probably.
“I’ll just...take a cab.”
“This thing is twenty miles away! A, you’re shaking. Just let me call your family, they’ll understand.”
A shakes their head as they finally manage to get the front door open, but just as they take a step outside, they sway on their feet. B is already up and ready to catch them, but they’re not ready to receive all of A’s weight when they fall limp against them, and that’s when B notices just how high their temperature really is. Just a slight fever their ass. They awkwardly hoist A onto the couch, toss a blanket over them, and sneak the cell phone from their back pocket to look up their mother’s number.
A wakes up in a daze. Even when it hits them that it’s night time now, they’re too exhausted to freak out about missing the event. Instead they just groan defeatedly, alerting B, who also fell asleep in the loveseat across from them, that they’re awake.
“Mmph...Told you you were too sick to go.”
“I was really looking forward to it,” A mumbles. Their throat is too sore to talk, but they’re stubborn as ever. “My mother is going to hate me.”
“I talked to her. She’s worried about you,” B says. “I told her you were resting. Which you should be doing now, if you’d quit beating yourself up.”
“Sorry,” A says quietly. B always thought they would like this obedient version of A better.
“Don’t apologize,” they sigh as they get up and stretch. “Do you need anything? A glass of water? Hey,” B grins and nudges A with their foot. “Maybe I should put on that suit you were gonna wear. I can be your fancy butler.”
A smiles back, a little weakly. “Just a blanket...or two. Or five. I’m kinda chilly.”
B obliges with an over dramatized bow, retrieving every blanket they can possibly find in their residence with an extra sweatshirt to boot.
“Your security blankies, sir.”
They share a laugh, though for A it’s more of a cough. A pulls their many layers of blankets up to their chin, still unable to beat their unbearable chills. “Hey, uh...Thanks for looking after me. And I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble earlier.”
B smiles at A, who can’t seem to find the energy to smile back. As A slips back into sleep, B settles themselves into the loveseat again, solemnly looking at A’s phone screen. Their mother was furious when B called, but A doesn’t need to know that right now. What they need is rest, and if B needs to lie in order to make that happen, so be it. After all, B tells themselves again a little less cheerfully, what are friends for?