 "Wendlaaaa." Ernst let out a groan, running a hand through his hair. "I think I'm dying, the world is darkening; may the lord forgive my sins and condemn those who have wronged me, like Ilse because of that time she didn't bring me chocolate at three o'clock in the morning." He assumed that this long; thought out; extremely persuasive -just in case there was a god listening- speech would come across to Wendla as 'hey, come in, good to see you'.
Ernst RĂśbel was no stranger to the flu; frankly, if viruses were human, the flu would be that kid that Ernst made friends with as a toddler and never quite managed to shake. It made things... difficult, to say the least.
He was glad to see Wendla, he really was! She was one of the -few- people who actually treated him as an equal; possibly only one who understood being treated like a child, -which didn't make any sense by the way, he had gone through way more stuff than... Hanschen, he supposed- Ernst loved Wendla, he just hoped he wouldn't get her sick.
Wendla laughed, shaking her head, and entered, closing the door behind her and sitting on the bed beside him. "Ernst, you truly are a drama queen,"Â she teased fondly as way of greeting before leaning in to kiss his cheek. She set the bag down that she had brought along and opened it to reveal its contents to him.
First, she lifted the dishes. "I brought soup because you need the fluids and the warmth, and cookies because I thought you might like comfort food."Â She set both on his night stand before beginning to dig out the various DVDs. "And, I brought movies! Pick which one you want to watch first and I'll put it in." She flashed him a bright grin, her spirits high as ever. She'd grown used to his tendency to fall ill, and she knew what to do when he was bed ridden with the flu.
