FANFICTION: Scrapbook Pt. 3 (APH)
Chapter 3 ~ Midnight Sickness
Lithuania gripped the cold linoleum of the toilet bowl as he felt the contents of his stomach heave. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the nausea, trying to will himself to just retch already and relieve himself of the pressure on his stomach. But it wouldn’t come.
Lithuania heard the door creak open, and then Poland’s drowsy voice drifted through the bathroom:
“It’s, like, midnight, Liet. Are you sick again?”
Lithuania nodded weakly, but then suddenly lurched forwards as his stomach turned over.
“Omigawd, that’s disgusting.”
Lithuania found he could not reply; his stomach continued to heave, threatening to empty itself of its contents for a second time at any second. He retched, and behind him, he could hear Poland smother a gag.
But then his hair was being pulled out of his face, and he could feel Poland gingerly begin to rub comforting circles on his back - albeit uncertainly, hesitantly, and with obvious disgust, but it was nevertheless gentle.
“It’s okay, Liet. Like, get it out, y’know?”
Once more, Lithuania heaved, and although he could feel Poland shudder, the hand never moved from his back. For a moment afterwards, Lithuania crouched over the bowl, gasping, but when his stomach did not rebel again, he finally sat back and flushed the toilet.
“I’m okay, Poland,” he said weakly. “Thanks.
But Poland pursed his lips and gave him a dry look. “You, like, totally have to see a doctor. It’s been a week, y’know? And it’s totally hard to sleep when you’re vomiting and junk.”
“I - I wake you every night?”
“Totally. Do you know how disgusting it sounds?”
Lithuania winced. “It doesn’t taste very good, either.”
“Uh, did not need to hear that, Liet,” Poland retorted reproachfully.
“Sorry.”
“So, like, I’ll set you up an appointment tomorrow morning,” Poland said. “For ten, and no complaining about work and junk. You can be late for one day.”
A sense of ominous foreboding lurched somewhere around Lithuania’s navel, but he would only recognize for what it was many months later; at the moment, he passed it off as a late pang of nausea. He smiled slightly. “Thanks, Poland.”
“Dude, I just need my beauty sleep.”