[Closed RP] Just Stop Crying!
(WHO:) Demyx & Marluxia
(WHEN:) Afternoon
(WHERE:) Hospital Wing
(WARNINGS:) CRACK! Some OOC on Demyx's part, but that's blamed completely on his fever. I play delirious characters, haha. Demyx being over dramatic, Marly being a meanie, and a little surprise at the end.
Marluxia groaned, coughing into his hand as he stumbled into the Hospital Wing. He had felt fine earlier and yet...now he felt just like he had the day before. Looking around the room, he called out for Madame Pomfrey but got no response. Frowning, he sniffled and headed towards the medicine cabinet, muttering to himself about how nurses should be in the hospital wing at all times.
He hated them all, he really did. He had gotten himself up and dressed and now had to get the medicine by himself. He had even done his hair and put his eyeliner on, despite being ever so sloppy. He looked terrible in his mind and wished more than anything to get back to his room. To him, if he wasn't perfect, it was terrible.
Demyx used to think he delt with sickness well.
The first day of his cold, he was miserable. But after that, even though he sneezed and coughed and used plenty of hand sanitizer, he delt with it. He couldn't say his king-of-the-world feeling was lasting.
He was freezing for absolutely no reason at all, and had been having constant fevers. It wasn't healthy. So, regardless of what he wanted to do, Demyx dragged himself to the Hospital Wing.
When he entered, he expected to see a nurse, a kid with a broken leg, someone that'd been hexed. Not Organization's number XI. That was what he least expected.
He meant to keep his presence a secret, but...
"H--achoo!"
Damnit.
Marluxia jumped, squeaking due to his throat being clogged with mucus and all other things that came along with a cold. As if on cue, he sneezed as well, coughing afterwards. Sniffling, he turned to see Demyx.
"What are you doing here?"
Oh yeah. A stuffed up voice. Real sexy.
Demyx sniffled too, a frown plastered onto his face. It looked like both of them were miserable. And, as expected, both of them were sick. It was depressing, but Demyx had to live with it.
"I have a fever," he answered sadly. "I thought it went away, but it came back."
Marluxia made a noise in the back of his throat that was more like a grumbled agreement than anything, though the words never formed. Wiping his nose, he brushed his bangs out of his face.
"Well you have to wait your turn....'n the nurses aren't here for some goddamn reason..." Not only was Marluxia all stuffed up, he was grumpy. Sick did that to him.
"This is all your fault!"
Demyx would have enjoyed taking Marluxia's words and shoving them right back at him, but he was too sick to be happy. He couldn't be his cheerful self when he was busy sneezing and coughing up a lung and wishing he was sleeping all the time.
He began almost wimpering.
"Whyy isn't the nurrsee heeeree..."
"Stop whining....it's not my fault it's yours." He groaned, though it sounded more like 'stob whining, iz not my fault iz yers'. Grabbing what looked like cough medicine from the cupboard, he took the required amount, grimacing before closing it.
"Catch." Without any other warning, he tossed the bottle to Demyx.
Demyx caught it, barely. It almost slipped out of his fingers; his reflexes were slow when he was sick. But that was no big deal. He could hardly understand Marluxia's speech, but he was sure number XI didn't appreciate his whining either.
It didn't stop him, though.
"I don't want this... I want a nurse."
"Well too goddamn bad." He said with a cough before flopping down on the closest waiting chair, resting his head against the wall. "If you want to wait here for them to come off their damn lunch break then go ahead. I'm...just gunna wait till the meds kick in..."
He had felt SO much better when Larxene visited....
Demyx pouted.
"Fine! You don't even know what this is," he whined, completely ignoring the fact that he didn't know what it was either. Regardless of that fact, however, Demyx did what Marluxia did -- opened the bottle, popped a few in his mouth, and swallowed without any water.
"...They're probably death pills!"
"If they were death pills, at least it'd shut you up..." Marluxia groaned, his hand going to his forehead. "And put me out of my misery..."
He hoped the medicine would work soon.....Then he could leave.
"You're so mean!" he sniffed, eyes welling up with tears.
Demyx was not usually this annoying and whiny. When he was sick, however, it was as if his hormones went completely out of whack and he was five years old again.
"Why do you hate me so much..." He sobbed lightly, pouring two more pills in his hand and shoving them in his mouth. "I never--" He swallowed. "--did anything to you!"
Marluxia raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand to look at Demyx with a disbelieving look.
"....I don't hate you, you moron. If I hated it you'd know it.....but if you dont shut up I'll start to. "
How many pills had Demyx taken? Oh boy this might end up being interesting...
Demyx didn't want to count right now. Nurses were supposed to count pills for him. And they were supposed to read the bottle for him, and give him them, with water. And they weren't supposed to leave a bad aftertaste. It wasn't Demyx's job to deal with all of that!
Righ then, all he could do was whimper and go to the nearest hospital bed. He definitely had a fever, probably a high one. It didn't matter though. Those ten or so pills were going to help.
With that in mind, Demyx collapsed into the bed, crying all over the hospital pillow.
Marluxia felt like he had a hangover. He felt like he had a hangover and a child was screaming in his ear. This was how Demyx's crying sounded in his sick state. Picking himself up, he coughed and stumbled over to Demyx, grabbing the pills and throwing them across the room.
"Shut up." he seethed, curling over to have a coughing fit.
"Nooo," Demyx said to the pillow. "Why are you so mean to me?"
His voice wasn't understanadble, muffled in the pillow. Not only couldn't he breathe from his cold, the stuffy nose, and the crying, but his face being shoved in the pillow didn't help. He hiccupped, feeling it hard in his throat.
He was so miserable.
The pillow looked so comfortable.....With a groan, the sick brain of Marluxia gave in and buried his face in the pillow. Climbing on the bed so his knees were tucked under him and his face was in the pillow, he coughed into it and sniffled.
"This medicine is crap..."
Yes he was avoiding the question. Truthfully, he didn't care.
Demyx couldn't breathe. Nope, nope, couldn't breathe at all. He was going to suffocate and die under there. And it didn't even matter, because Axel would probably hate him if he knew about this, even after they made up. All because of the stupid guy who plopped next to him.
He hated Marluxia! He hated him so much!
All he could do was cry harder. He didn't want to be here with Marluxia. He wanted to be curled up next to Axel, but the redhead would probably just think he was annoying...
He choked. He was probably going to die on this pillow.
Marluxia didn't want to move. The pressure on his face felt good to combat the sinus pain. He didn't want to move...
"Why are you still crying...." He groaned. Not because he cared, of course not.
Because Demyx was crying IN HIS EAR.
"BECAUSE!" Demyx shouted at the pillow. His life was a mess. Everything was a mess. He hated being sick. When he was sick, the world was ugly. He was too sick to play his sitar. In all, he wanted crawl under a rock and die.
"Because no one loves me," he muttered pathetically, though Marluxia probably didn't hear him.
"A-and I'm sick," he added a little more loudly. "And no one loves me!"
"...." Marluxia had a lot he could say. He could be a dick, which was always a good defense mechanism, but it really took too much energy. He could be comforting, but that did not come easy to him anymore. He could be angry and annoyed, which was easiest at the moment, but didn't seem appropriate.
"Just shut up…you have no right to talk..." He mumbled into his pillow, sniffling from the sick.
"FINE!"
Demyx's maturity went out the window when he was sick. It was the way he always was, the way he'd always been. He couldn't help it, and he was beyond trying to stop it.
Demyx began to roll, unable to handle the fact that he couldn't breathe. He bumped into Marluxia rather carelessly, but continued to toss back and forth.
"WHY ARE THE NURSES TAKING SO LONG!!"
Yes... he was having a fit.
Marluxia could only take so much, and his patience was thinning by the millisecond. 3...2....1...
Growling, The Slytherin pinned Demyx down, gritting his teeth and glaring.
"Stop it. Right now. You're 17 for crying out loud." He was stuffed up, yes, but he was still very much Marluxia and was very much annoyed.
Demyx sniffed. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and watery, and all he could see was a blurry image of Marluxia's annoyed face and all he could feel was his head pounding and Marluxia pinning him down.
He didn't say anything, just stared up at Marluxia with tear-filled eyes and hard and choppy breaths.
"Stop crying. You're just going to make yourself MORE SICK." He snapped, turning his head to cough. "Now stop whining so I can relax without exhausting myself trying to discipline you. I actually have class to go to in the morning."
And with that, Marluxia rolled off of the blonde and buried his face in his pillow again.
Demyx did as he was told, sucked up his tears and rolled onto his side, his back pressing against Marluxia's. He was sick and awful and miserable and wanting to die, but crying would only make him more sick? Well woop-dee-doo, there was nothing he could do about that now.
He closed his eyes, face burning hard. His fever had gotten higher in the last few minutes. He just wanted... to sleep.
Marluxia sighed, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, not caring about getting back to his own bed at this point. With a yawn, he got off the hospital bed and sneezed before getting up to put the medicine bottle back. That was when he noticed the word written on it that he had misread due to his haze.
Viagra.
His eye twitched and he put the bottle back, grumbling to himself about how school hospital's shouldn't have that before returning to the hospital bed and groaning, hoping that his sick body would ignore it.
(WHEN:) Afternoon
(WHERE:) Hospital Wing
(WARNINGS:) CRACK! Some OOC on Demyx's part, but that's blamed completely on his fever. I play delirious characters, haha. Demyx being over dramatic, Marly being a meanie, and a little surprise at the end.
Marluxia groaned, coughing into his hand as he stumbled into the Hospital Wing. He had felt fine earlier and yet...now he felt just like he had the day before. Looking around the room, he called out for Madame Pomfrey but got no response. Frowning, he sniffled and headed towards the medicine cabinet, muttering to himself about how nurses should be in the hospital wing at all times.
He hated them all, he really did. He had gotten himself up and dressed and now had to get the medicine by himself. He had even done his hair and put his eyeliner on, despite being ever so sloppy. He looked terrible in his mind and wished more than anything to get back to his room. To him, if he wasn't perfect, it was terrible.
Demyx used to think he delt with sickness well.
The first day of his cold, he was miserable. But after that, even though he sneezed and coughed and used plenty of hand sanitizer, he delt with it. He couldn't say his king-of-the-world feeling was lasting.
He was freezing for absolutely no reason at all, and had been having constant fevers. It wasn't healthy. So, regardless of what he wanted to do, Demyx dragged himself to the Hospital Wing.
When he entered, he expected to see a nurse, a kid with a broken leg, someone that'd been hexed. Not Organization's number XI. That was what he least expected.
He meant to keep his presence a secret, but...
"H--achoo!"
Damnit.
Marluxia jumped, squeaking due to his throat being clogged with mucus and all other things that came along with a cold. As if on cue, he sneezed as well, coughing afterwards. Sniffling, he turned to see Demyx.
"What are you doing here?"
Oh yeah. A stuffed up voice. Real sexy.
Demyx sniffled too, a frown plastered onto his face. It looked like both of them were miserable. And, as expected, both of them were sick. It was depressing, but Demyx had to live with it.
"I have a fever," he answered sadly. "I thought it went away, but it came back."
Marluxia made a noise in the back of his throat that was more like a grumbled agreement than anything, though the words never formed. Wiping his nose, he brushed his bangs out of his face.
"Well you have to wait your turn....'n the nurses aren't here for some goddamn reason..." Not only was Marluxia all stuffed up, he was grumpy. Sick did that to him.
"This is all your fault!"
Demyx would have enjoyed taking Marluxia's words and shoving them right back at him, but he was too sick to be happy. He couldn't be his cheerful self when he was busy sneezing and coughing up a lung and wishing he was sleeping all the time.
He began almost wimpering.
"Whyy isn't the nurrsee heeeree..."
"Stop whining....it's not my fault it's yours." He groaned, though it sounded more like 'stob whining, iz not my fault iz yers'. Grabbing what looked like cough medicine from the cupboard, he took the required amount, grimacing before closing it.
"Catch." Without any other warning, he tossed the bottle to Demyx.
Demyx caught it, barely. It almost slipped out of his fingers; his reflexes were slow when he was sick. But that was no big deal. He could hardly understand Marluxia's speech, but he was sure number XI didn't appreciate his whining either.
It didn't stop him, though.
"I don't want this... I want a nurse."
"Well too goddamn bad." He said with a cough before flopping down on the closest waiting chair, resting his head against the wall. "If you want to wait here for them to come off their damn lunch break then go ahead. I'm...just gunna wait till the meds kick in..."
He had felt SO much better when Larxene visited....
Demyx pouted.
"Fine! You don't even know what this is," he whined, completely ignoring the fact that he didn't know what it was either. Regardless of that fact, however, Demyx did what Marluxia did -- opened the bottle, popped a few in his mouth, and swallowed without any water.
"...They're probably death pills!"
"If they were death pills, at least it'd shut you up..." Marluxia groaned, his hand going to his forehead. "And put me out of my misery..."
He hoped the medicine would work soon.....Then he could leave.
"You're so mean!" he sniffed, eyes welling up with tears.
Demyx was not usually this annoying and whiny. When he was sick, however, it was as if his hormones went completely out of whack and he was five years old again.
"Why do you hate me so much..." He sobbed lightly, pouring two more pills in his hand and shoving them in his mouth. "I never--" He swallowed. "--did anything to you!"
Marluxia raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand to look at Demyx with a disbelieving look.
"....I don't hate you, you moron. If I hated it you'd know it.....but if you dont shut up I'll start to. "
How many pills had Demyx taken? Oh boy this might end up being interesting...
Demyx didn't want to count right now. Nurses were supposed to count pills for him. And they were supposed to read the bottle for him, and give him them, with water. And they weren't supposed to leave a bad aftertaste. It wasn't Demyx's job to deal with all of that!
Righ then, all he could do was whimper and go to the nearest hospital bed. He definitely had a fever, probably a high one. It didn't matter though. Those ten or so pills were going to help.
With that in mind, Demyx collapsed into the bed, crying all over the hospital pillow.
Marluxia felt like he had a hangover. He felt like he had a hangover and a child was screaming in his ear. This was how Demyx's crying sounded in his sick state. Picking himself up, he coughed and stumbled over to Demyx, grabbing the pills and throwing them across the room.
"Shut up." he seethed, curling over to have a coughing fit.
"Nooo," Demyx said to the pillow. "Why are you so mean to me?"
His voice wasn't understanadble, muffled in the pillow. Not only couldn't he breathe from his cold, the stuffy nose, and the crying, but his face being shoved in the pillow didn't help. He hiccupped, feeling it hard in his throat.
He was so miserable.
The pillow looked so comfortable.....With a groan, the sick brain of Marluxia gave in and buried his face in the pillow. Climbing on the bed so his knees were tucked under him and his face was in the pillow, he coughed into it and sniffled.
"This medicine is crap..."
Yes he was avoiding the question. Truthfully, he didn't care.
Demyx couldn't breathe. Nope, nope, couldn't breathe at all. He was going to suffocate and die under there. And it didn't even matter, because Axel would probably hate him if he knew about this, even after they made up. All because of the stupid guy who plopped next to him.
He hated Marluxia! He hated him so much!
All he could do was cry harder. He didn't want to be here with Marluxia. He wanted to be curled up next to Axel, but the redhead would probably just think he was annoying...
He choked. He was probably going to die on this pillow.
Marluxia didn't want to move. The pressure on his face felt good to combat the sinus pain. He didn't want to move...
"Why are you still crying...." He groaned. Not because he cared, of course not.
Because Demyx was crying IN HIS EAR.
"BECAUSE!" Demyx shouted at the pillow. His life was a mess. Everything was a mess. He hated being sick. When he was sick, the world was ugly. He was too sick to play his sitar. In all, he wanted crawl under a rock and die.
"Because no one loves me," he muttered pathetically, though Marluxia probably didn't hear him.
"A-and I'm sick," he added a little more loudly. "And no one loves me!"
"...." Marluxia had a lot he could say. He could be a dick, which was always a good defense mechanism, but it really took too much energy. He could be comforting, but that did not come easy to him anymore. He could be angry and annoyed, which was easiest at the moment, but didn't seem appropriate.
"Just shut up…you have no right to talk..." He mumbled into his pillow, sniffling from the sick.
"FINE!"
Demyx's maturity went out the window when he was sick. It was the way he always was, the way he'd always been. He couldn't help it, and he was beyond trying to stop it.
Demyx began to roll, unable to handle the fact that he couldn't breathe. He bumped into Marluxia rather carelessly, but continued to toss back and forth.
"WHY ARE THE NURSES TAKING SO LONG!!"
Yes... he was having a fit.
Marluxia could only take so much, and his patience was thinning by the millisecond. 3...2....1...
Growling, The Slytherin pinned Demyx down, gritting his teeth and glaring.
"Stop it. Right now. You're 17 for crying out loud." He was stuffed up, yes, but he was still very much Marluxia and was very much annoyed.
Demyx sniffed. His face was red and his eyes were puffy and watery, and all he could see was a blurry image of Marluxia's annoyed face and all he could feel was his head pounding and Marluxia pinning him down.
He didn't say anything, just stared up at Marluxia with tear-filled eyes and hard and choppy breaths.
"Stop crying. You're just going to make yourself MORE SICK." He snapped, turning his head to cough. "Now stop whining so I can relax without exhausting myself trying to discipline you. I actually have class to go to in the morning."
And with that, Marluxia rolled off of the blonde and buried his face in his pillow again.
Demyx did as he was told, sucked up his tears and rolled onto his side, his back pressing against Marluxia's. He was sick and awful and miserable and wanting to die, but crying would only make him more sick? Well woop-dee-doo, there was nothing he could do about that now.
He closed his eyes, face burning hard. His fever had gotten higher in the last few minutes. He just wanted... to sleep.
Marluxia sighed, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep, not caring about getting back to his own bed at this point. With a yawn, he got off the hospital bed and sneezed before getting up to put the medicine bottle back. That was when he noticed the word written on it that he had misread due to his haze.
Viagra.
His eye twitched and he put the bottle back, grumbling to himself about how school hospital's shouldn't have that before returning to the hospital bed and groaning, hoping that his sick body would ignore it.