Dimitri words carry to her in the kitchen and Rose doesn’t bother respond as she casually hums moving about the kitchen. First she sets to searching the cabinets pulling down any sort of canned and microwavable food that she knows Dimitri might actually consider eating at some point during their day. Next she is moving towards the fridge and ruffling about in there. One of the few things she knew about being sick was that you had to stay hydrated or else you’d never get better.
Pulling free a light blue gatorade she studies it for a moment. “Does this even hydrate you?” She mutters aloud turning it over in her hands so she can read the back. Theres a list of information and most of it seems useless but the commercials she use to watch swore they’d give energy to the body and help rehydrate so with a shrug she tosses it on the counter.
“Hey babe do you have a like hand towel I could use—wait never mind I just found one!” She calls back completely ignoring his response of her working. One of the awesome parts of working for your best friend unlimited sick days or even just vacation days, not that Rose ever took one but still.
Snagging the Gatorade off the counter Rose struts back into the room where Dimitri is now lounged on the bed. “Is it wrong I think you look adorable even though you’re sick” She asks placing the drink on his bedside table. “That should help with like things and I brought you this, if I put it on your head it should help with your fever plus head rushes.” She explains carefully laying the warm towel over his forehead.
"In the kindest way possible looking at you like this there is no way I’d believe you could kick my ass.” It wasn’t until recently that Rose had finally come to terms with the fact that Dimitri would always be able to hand her ass to her, which kind of sucked. But at least she was no longer in denial. “Seriously though.”
Unbuttoning her pants she wiggles out of them and allows them to drop to the floor before she’s crawling over his exhausted body and onto her side of the bed. “So I’m thinking movies, cuddling and soup day for you comrade.”
Heat radiated from his skin, fever very obviously already coursing through his body. Therefore, the warm towel was not appreciated as much as it should. However, he held his tongue and let her speak. Her voice was a little loud to his sensitive ears and building headache, but he didn’t want to shush her; there was something comforting, soothing really, about the stream of words. Heavy eyelids refused to stay up while her words were said in a language he barely understood. Some stood out clearer than others.
It was when he felt the bed move under her weight and stray locks tickling his nose that he opened his eyes. He was just in time to see her settle beside him. A sudden need to hold her close hit him, and so a heavy, heavy arm was laid across her waist. Its strength was nonexistent, though, and it proved itself impossible to pull her closer. Instead of moving her, he moved himself. With an unhappy grunt, he rolled to his side, and was close enough to bury his face in her hair.
Even though his nose was halfway blocked, he could clearly smell his shampoo. Her bottle had been emp- tied a couple of days ago. Clearly, she had not bothe- red. And beyond the change of shampoo, he could sense something that was just her. Whether it was a perfume or her skin, it always followed her. It smelled like h o m e, like safety. He sighed contentedly.
”Sounds good,“ was finally mumbled through locks of bistre. "You zound like you haff a lot of experienze viff zick days.” Lazy lips gave up on trying to hold onto an understandable way of speaking English, and hoped that she could code accents.
Under the soft covers, a calloused hand caressed her hip. Fingertips played with the hem of her shirt, tangling themselves into the fabric in order to keep the Russian awake. Although her skin was warm in any other sense, it felt like ice against his burning touch. He hoped his scalding heat wouldn’t scare her away; he rather liked lying like this.
Three years they’d been together now. One thousand and ninety-five days give or take and Rose Hathaway had yet to see her male counter part ever call in sick but apparently today was the exception. “Dimitri you can not expect to properly guard anyone when you can barely stand up straight—shit!” The older guardian was of course trying to stand and Rose was of course trying to stop when he for the third time that morning lost his balance and she just barely caught him. "Back to bed and I’ll call Lissa and tell her neither of us will be going in.” Rose says pushing him back towards their shared room. “I’m being serious, get your hot ass back in that bed now.” Digging into her back pocket she sends her friend a quick message.
[Text] Lissa : Calling or well texting in sick for Dimitri and I’m staying home to take care of him and before you ask no this isn’t a “sex day”. xo Rose
"Alright comrade what kind of soup do you want?” Rose calls moving towards the kitchen. “Your choices include anything canned and microwavable!”
Everything was a turmoil of, well, e v e r y t h i n g. Colors, shapes, even goddamned noises seemed to be in the mixture. The feeling had attacked him the moment his eyes had been squinted open a- gainst the harsh daylight. Rays of sunshine had shone into the room, despite their luscious curtains, and though he was usually a morning bird – and a little bit too chipper according to Rose – he had only been able to let out a groan at the sight. Hoping that it was a fleeting feeling, he had laid completely still, listening to the palace waking up to a brand new night. However, both his body and mind were still rioting when a pair of dark locks tickled his chin.
Automatically, he had kissed her, still-sleepy lips betraying him by letting it slip that he didn’t feel well. Dhampirs were rarely sick, but when they were ? Well, ‘bad’ didn’t really cover it. That was probably why Rose had been so insisting on him staying put, even though he protested again & again that he could definitely go to work. It was already a luxury to have been able to spend the night with her, instead of lying on Christian’s floor. He shouldn’t push it. —— Besides, Rose was definitely exaggerating.
Being caught by the third time that morning didn’t do much to his determination – being pushed, on the other hand, made him realize that even a seven- year-old moroi would be able to stop him today. Grumbling under his breath, he let himself fall back & landed in the bed with a loud 'thump’. It made the whole world spin temporarily, and all he could feel was nausea. Slowly, the feeling subsided, but not enough for it to linger in the pit of his stomach when Rose mentioned food.
“Nothing for me, thank you,” he called out, although both his throat & head protested. “You don’t have to stay here,” was added hastily as he ran a hand over his face, sighing with the exhaustion he felt in every cell of his body. “Go be with Lissa. I’m sure the Queen has more important matters to take care of than I do. I will just sleep anyway.” Or go back to work the second she left the room. The problem with that being Christian wanting to be in Lissa’s company.
