Alfonses are all bad patients. True story.

[alfonsrepeats]

*Alfons pokes up from his blanket as it's wrapped around him, blond head almost a tiny thing poking out from a sea of covers.* .....Edward? *His voice was meek...almost childlike. POUTY.* ........I-I'm feeling a bit better now...can't I get out of bed?

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[thundara_song]

-Edward tore his attention away from the book in his lap, blinking up at Alfons from where he sat on a chair, across from the bed.

He frowned deeply, looking back at his book-

No. Now be quiet and get some rest.

*whinewhinewhine*

[alfonsrepeats]

*Alfons lets out a whiny pout, flopping back on the bed.

He hated this. He hated this he hated this he hated this! He hated being sick--stupid...whatever he had, stupid fever which STILL hadn't gone away, and stupid EDWARD for thinking he was still so sick that he had to stay in bed!*

But I've gone to work feeling worse than this, Edward...really, I can manage. I feel better than I did...

*Which wasn't saying much. But still!*

Rwaaaar

[thundara_song]

.........

-Insert lots of glaring at his lover here-

Sush. You aren't goin' to get any better complaining. Now that I'm here, I won't let you go do something as stupid as work when you have a damn fever. It'll make it worse.

-He gets up after a moment, setting the book down and approaching Alfons, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead-

You're still really warm. Do you want a cold cloth?

Somehow, Ed's concern doesn't strike Alfons as a good sign.

[alfonsrepeats]

*Well gee, didn't that make him feel better? No matter what life he had, he was sickly in some way or another, so this could be bad.

Alfons shivered as he felt Edward's cool hand against his forehead--ah yes, sweet, sweet cold--and he reached his own hand out and kept it there, closing his eyes.*

This is enough. Your hand is cool--it feels nice.