[ @ryuzakilawliettt ]
He was fine. He was fine. He was fine, God damn it.
Quillsh had never liked to show any weakness, and dislike would not have been enough to describe how he felt about admitting that he was ill to a child of his - especially L. And perhaps he would have liked to sleep a little more today or drink more tea than usual to relieve this terrible cough that made his chest hurt whenever a fit hit him - so far Quillsh had been lucky, the cough fits over the past few days only occurring when L was not in the same room, but the elder knew he was pushing his luck, and unless it went away on its own, the detective would eventually notice it and most likely try to suggest that the elder had, in fact, fallen ill(A thing Quillsh didn't like to think about. Despite everything, he was not fond of resting for long periods of time).
However, had it only been a cough. After a few days, what had only been fits of cough had developed into chills running down his back, constant tiredness and, most lately, brief feelings of dizziness whenever he stood for more than several minutes.
But he had more pressing matters to concern himself with than a small cough.
L had always been quite pale - this was nothing new. However, now, Quillsh couldn't help but notice the sickly look on his son's face, how the detective, too, had not eaten as much as usual, and how L seemed to almost shiver from time to time.
"L," Quillsh spoke the moment he entered the detective's room and noticed another tray of uneaten strawberries, "Are you quite alright?"
