Bedside Manners (1/?)
anonymous
August 6 2010, 06:31:11 UTC
Everything had been just fine until Finland felt a mild throbbing in his skull a little after the meeting started. He got some mild relief by pressing against his forehead with the palm of his hand, but as soon as he removed his hand, the pain got worse. He tried to focus on what England was saying, and took notes to take his mind off of his headache. Something about finances and trades and all that jazz. The constant throb made it feel like his heart was in his head, and the hurt got worse and worse.
He groaned lightly as he rubbed his forehead, making Sweden glance at him. He blinked but didn’t say a word. Sweden just assumed he had something on his mind; it probably didn’t matter. The meeting went on, and Finland started to feel a little stuffy. The temperature in his arms and face began to rise. That toasty feeling along with his splitting headache made him feel a little drowsy. I wonder if Sweden will notice if I lean on him a bit.
Steadily, Finland inched towards his friend until his head gently rested against Sweden’s arm. The sleeve made a nice pillow for him, and he closed his eyes, hoping Sweden wouldn’t find him troubling. The taller Nordic adjusted his glasses and peeked down to see Finland resting on his arm, and couldn’t help but be surprised. He must be really sleepy if he was taking a nap here in the meeting room. Oh well, the lunch break was coming up, and maybe Finland would get some energy after having something to eat.
As the meeting went on, Finland’s condition didn’t get any better. His body heat kept rising and his headache didn’t clear out. He’d gotten too comfortable on Sweden’s arm to even try to move.
“Hey, y’okay?” Sweden whispered, nudging Finland a little.
“Eh? Oh, yes, yes…just didn’t much sleep last night.”
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Not really, just dogs barking and a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.” Finland smiled to make everything seem okay, even when his insides were telling him differently. Sweden kind of cocked his head, noticing a little flush in Finland’s cheeks. Once the meeting went into a recess for the lunch break, the Nordics traveled together to their favorite restaurant as they usually did. Finland wasn’t very hungry, but he took a few bites so he wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. His posse’s conversations, especially Denmark’s loud volume, weren’t doing anything to ease his head pain. He’d only eaten barely a quarter of his food before his stomach decided it couldn’t take anymore. Sweden noticed his lack of appetite and grew a little more concerned. So if food wasn’t the issue, what was it?
As the group walked back to the meeting hall, Finland found it increasingly hard to coordinate himself. He swayed as he walked, distracted by an uncomfortable sinking sensation in his stomach, and a forceful shove in his throat. His knees shivered before they gave out. Sweden tried to catch him, but Finland crawled away to the nearest trash can. He captured all the other Nordic’s attention when he unmistakably hurled.
“Woah, Finland! What’s wrong with you?” Denmark exclaimed.
“He’s sick, stupid. That much should be obvious.” Norway commented.
“I’m takin’ ‘im home,” Sweden stated as he scooped up a weakly Finland in his arms, “Tell the others that we had an emergency.”
“I…I think…I can walk…” Finland tried to stand up by himself, but Sweden shook his head.
“Don’t stress y’self. You’re too sick.”
Finland didn’t have the strength to protest, nor did he have the will to. The ache of his body brought on by his illness made Sweden’s arms very comforting. He clung to his friend’s coat for support, letting himself be cradled as Sweden carried him home. He curled up and coughed violently into his fist.
“Don’ worry, we’re almos’ home.” Sweden clutched onto Finland’s small frame a little tighter, ignoring all the giggles and confused stares that people made as passed by the streets. He placed his hand on Finland’s forehead to feel an inferno. Hopefully, his “wife” hadn’t caught anything that serious, but if he was vomiting, it was probably more than the average fever. At least he looked peaceful resting in his arms.
He groaned lightly as he rubbed his forehead, making Sweden glance at him. He blinked but didn’t say a word. Sweden just assumed he had something on his mind; it probably didn’t matter. The meeting went on, and Finland started to feel a little stuffy. The temperature in his arms and face began to rise. That toasty feeling along with his splitting headache made him feel a little drowsy. I wonder if Sweden will notice if I lean on him a bit.
Steadily, Finland inched towards his friend until his head gently rested against Sweden’s arm. The sleeve made a nice pillow for him, and he closed his eyes, hoping Sweden wouldn’t find him troubling. The taller Nordic adjusted his glasses and peeked down to see Finland resting on his arm, and couldn’t help but be surprised. He must be really sleepy if he was taking a nap here in the meeting room. Oh well, the lunch break was coming up, and maybe Finland would get some energy after having something to eat.
As the meeting went on, Finland’s condition didn’t get any better. His body heat kept rising and his headache didn’t clear out. He’d gotten too comfortable on Sweden’s arm to even try to move.
“Hey, y’okay?” Sweden whispered, nudging Finland a little.
“Eh? Oh, yes, yes…just didn’t much sleep last night.”
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“Not really, just dogs barking and a lot on my mind. Nothing to worry about.” Finland smiled to make everything seem okay, even when his insides were telling him differently. Sweden kind of cocked his head, noticing a little flush in Finland’s cheeks. Once the meeting went into a recess for the lunch break, the Nordics traveled together to their favorite restaurant as they usually did. Finland wasn’t very hungry, but he took a few bites so he wouldn’t arouse any suspicion. His posse’s conversations, especially Denmark’s loud volume, weren’t doing anything to ease his head pain. He’d only eaten barely a quarter of his food before his stomach decided it couldn’t take anymore. Sweden noticed his lack of appetite and grew a little more concerned. So if food wasn’t the issue, what was it?
As the group walked back to the meeting hall, Finland found it increasingly hard to coordinate himself. He swayed as he walked, distracted by an uncomfortable sinking sensation in his stomach, and a forceful shove in his throat. His knees shivered before they gave out. Sweden tried to catch him, but Finland crawled away to the nearest trash can. He captured all the other Nordic’s attention when he unmistakably hurled.
“Woah, Finland! What’s wrong with you?” Denmark exclaimed.
“He’s sick, stupid. That much should be obvious.” Norway commented.
“I’m takin’ ‘im home,” Sweden stated as he scooped up a weakly Finland in his arms, “Tell the others that we had an emergency.”
“I…I think…I can walk…” Finland tried to stand up by himself, but Sweden shook his head.
“Don’t stress y’self. You’re too sick.”
Finland didn’t have the strength to protest, nor did he have the will to. The ache of his body brought on by his illness made Sweden’s arms very comforting. He clung to his friend’s coat for support, letting himself be cradled as Sweden carried him home. He curled up and coughed violently into his fist.
“Don’ worry, we’re almos’ home.” Sweden clutched onto Finland’s small frame a little tighter, ignoring all the giggles and confused stares that people made as passed by the streets. He placed his hand on Finland’s forehead to feel an inferno. Hopefully, his “wife” hadn’t caught anything that serious, but if he was vomiting, it was probably more than the average fever. At least he looked peaceful resting in his arms.
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Ironically, I was just writing for this prompt. I had to blink several times at the fills list to go huh?
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