B has been coming down with a cold for a while now, and for whatever reason, (maybe they had just gotten over an argument, A is dealing with their own stress, what have you,) A, who would usually be the caretaker, is not having it. B, who is normally independent, if a bit attatched, becomes clingy, desperate and exhausted when they have a fever, but since A is in a mood, they don’t notice the signs/flat out deny them…until proven wrong.
A and B have been working all day outside in the cold, and while they are both bundled up and shivering, B has been rapidly paling and shaking like a leaf.
“A, cand we please go indside ndow? I thidnk I have a fever,” B whines, sniffling deeply and clenching their tools tight.
“We haven’t even been out here long, B, and besides, you don’t have a fever. It’s just a cold, you just feel feverish because it’s freezing out here,” huffed A, maintaining their gaze on whatever project they’re working on.
B sniffles and wipes their teary eyes. They always get emotional with a temperature, but maybe A is right. Maybe this is just a product of the environment, and once the job is done, they’ll feel warm again. Still, all B wants is to curl up inside and snuggle up to A, like things used to be.
“Okay, imb sorry, I just really ndeed a tissue,” B whimpered, sniffling urgently now.
A tossed them a handkerchief from their work sack and continued the job. B held their hand to their own forehead, trying to gauge a temperature. Everything just felt cold. A caught B’s gestures and scoffed.
“For the last time B, you’re not running a temp. You’re fine. Blow your nose, quit sissying around and help me.”
B dropped their glassy eyes and obeyed.
After no less than an hour, the sun was beginning to dim and the air was at least 10 degrees cooler. Snow started to flurry from the grey sky. A made their way over to where B was laboring, placing a heavy hand on their shoulder. B jumped and shook violently in the cold. Their glossy eyes shot up.
“C’mon, B, time to head in. And quit with the shaking, it’s just making you feel worse.”
B sniffled against the wall of congestion in their sinuses before responding.
“I kndow, imb sorry, it’s just mby fever-“
A rolled their eyes as they entered the house. The warmth of the heating made both of their noses run, but damn, was it a relief. B collapsed onto the couch as A hurried into the kitchen, irritation obvious in their gait. When A returned, they held a box of tissues and a thermometer.
“Here, if you’re so damn sure you’ve got a ‘fever,’ test it out. And blow your damn nose, im sick of all your sniffling and snorting,” explained A coldly. They settled next to B and tossed the supplies into their lap. B placed the thermometer under their tounge and waited, still shaking in their wet clothes.
After a minute passed, the thermometer beeped and A raced to pull it from B’s mouth, a smug look on their face already.
“I swear, if all that bitching was over nothing, I’m gonna make your life-“
A stopped and their lips parted slightly as they read the number on the screen. Their expression changed from irritated and smug to a mix of concerned and amused.
“Damn, B, didn’t know you could pack this kind of heat,” a chuckled, their laugh masking their worry. They turned the screen to reveal 102.4, flashing on and off. B smiled triumphantly before coughing into their elbow.
“Yeah, yeah, gloat all you want, let me help you out of those clothes and into something dry so we can focus on getting you better,” A said playfully, scooting close to B and cupping their warm face in their hands. The apology wasn’t spoken, but B felt a familiar, much more comfortable warmth pulse through them as they snuggled close to A.
