‘it’s a remedy i knew. helps with your throat.’ - leorio but it's not even something he learned in med school sdfg
@pontevoix || from [X] || ACCEPTING
they've survived the trials of the HUNTER EXAM, an altercation in the SPIDERS' WEB, && countless dishonorable dealings with the UNDERGROUND ELITE; && somehow, they fall victim to something as innocuous as the COMMON COLD.
kurapika had been insistent that it was nothing worth fussing over. leorio fusses regardless ― it's in his nature. he continues to fuss, cursing whenever long limbs collide with those of run-down furniture; while kurapika watches with dry eyes from a makeshift hospital bed. the cheap pull-out protests loudly when they sit upright, && the medical student immediately rushes to their side, glasses askew.
dexterous fingers brush aside the dull hair clinging to clammy skin && kurapika can feel the warmth of the other's palm across their temple. his brows knit together && leorio mutters something under his breath that the kurta cannot quite discern, but going off of his worried tone, they can take a guess.
❝ --this is extremely unnecessary. i'll be fine. ❞ stubborn pride demands it to be so. kurapika imagines that their argument isn't entirely convincing; not when it sounds like a wad of sandpaper had been firmly lodged in their throat // not when leorio gives kurapika that look ― the look that reminds them that they are in the company of someone who's pigheadedness rivals their own. the hippocratic oath makes no exceptions.
he disappears; behind a thin section of wall, kurapika can hear the man tripping over tiles && turning his kitchen inside out, opening every other cabinet && forgetting to close them as he goes. a piece of silverware rattles when it hits the floor. leorio curses && continues to mutter to himself. kurapika wishes he wouldn't fuss. judging by the disproportionate amount of handwritten notes on cadavers littering every visible surface, he has an exam coming up soon ― an important one. he should be focusing on that instead.
leorio returns, hissing && sputtering as he brings something hot into the living area; he carries the mug by everything except the handle.
❝ it’s a remedy i knew. helps with your throat. ❞
an enervated kurapika murmurs quiet words of thanks, taking the drink into hand && breathing in the steam. it smells. . . earthy. a warm medley of roots, berries, && spices that can't possibly be native to the region.
❝ --what's in this? ❞ kurapika asks tiredly, leaning in to inhale the fragrant aroma ― this time, they recognize trace amounts of citrus && honey. ❝ my apologies. the malaise has stripped me of my manners, it would seem. i know you mean well. ❞
they bring the remedy to their lips, taking a small sip. it's still hot. their tongue will remember this. it's still hot; && tart. sweet. spicy.
❝ --this is. . . incredible. where did you learn this? ❞ they inquire. their tongue is seared, but their strength slowly returns to them ― or at least, to their throat.
