♚ four | text.
[Ciel is sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, looking extremely sulky - but also a fair bit paler than usual, almost sickly. Every now and then, he shivers, despite that he's already wearing a number of layers of clothing. He tugs the book closer while he rubs at his temple and groans.]
I'd assumed it would go away by yesterday, but my headache has only become worse, and the temperature is doing nothing to help it. [It's not actually all that cold.] I'd really rather not be getting sick when I've just started to catch up on all of my work, and I have maths tutoring tomorrow. I'm going to keep working no matter how sick I may be.
Those of you in later years might have better medicine than we do here; is there anything you can offer to momentarily ease the symptoms?
I'd assumed it would go away by yesterday, but my headache has only become worse, and the temperature is doing nothing to help it. [It's not actually all that cold.] I'd really rather not be getting sick when I've just started to catch up on all of my work, and I have maths tutoring tomorrow. I'm going to keep working no matter how sick I may be.
Those of you in later years might have better medicine than we do here; is there anything you can offer to momentarily ease the symptoms?