Liam Kincaid (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstofitskind) wrote2019-06-19 07:23 am
firstofitskind) wrote2019-06-19 07:23 am
MHA #6, Wednesday Morning
On top of the general feeling of irritability that had been simmering since Monday morning, yesterday Liam had come down with a fever. And for someone who'd never really been sick before in his life, the experience was, uh, kind of terrifying? Also terrifying were the grey scaly patches that had started to show on his skin.
Which is why he'd opted to sleep on the couch last night, because whatever-the-fuck this was, he wanted to minimize the risk of Verity getting infected. He'd learned his lesson with regards to doing things like leaving 'for her own good', which is why he hadn't gone with his first instinct which was to get as far away as possible.
'Sleep' was maybe a bit of a misnomer. 'Lie down and think horrifically violent thoughts every time he closed his eyes' was a bit closer to the truth. It certainly hadn't been the most restful of nights, though at least the fever had broken at some point?
A small mercy, given how much everything else hurt. The shaqarava were black now (like his eyes, not that he was aware of that, given that he'd yet to look into a mirror today), the ache traveling up the energy pathways in his arms to his very core. And his back... it felt like someone had taken a knife and twisted it into two very specific spots. All in all, not the greatest morning he'd ever had.
And things were only going to get worse from there!
Which is why he'd opted to sleep on the couch last night, because whatever-the-fuck this was, he wanted to minimize the risk of Verity getting infected. He'd learned his lesson with regards to doing things like leaving 'for her own good', which is why he hadn't gone with his first instinct which was to get as far away as possible.
'Sleep' was maybe a bit of a misnomer. 'Lie down and think horrifically violent thoughts every time he closed his eyes' was a bit closer to the truth. It certainly hadn't been the most restful of nights, though at least the fever had broken at some point?
A small mercy, given how much everything else hurt. The shaqarava were black now (like his eyes, not that he was aware of that, given that he'd yet to look into a mirror today), the ache traveling up the energy pathways in his arms to his very core. And his back... it felt like someone had taken a knife and twisted it into two very specific spots. All in all, not the greatest morning he'd ever had.
And things were only going to get worse from there!
no subject
She was answered by silence.