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“Mobiiiii,” Elysia whines, “You’re overreacting.” She pouts, fingers clinging onto the hem of her girlfriend’s lab coat.
Mobius simply swats the stubborn hand away and rolls her eyes. Perhaps she is overreacting, having put on gloves and a full face respirator almost immediately after learning that Elysia had contracted a horrendous disease—A common cold—but let’s be honest, she could’ve done something more drastic than simply wearing a pair of gloves and a mask.
“I have a special test today that I can’t afford to miss. I am reacting just fine,” she retorts coldly.
It only serves to deepen the frown on the clingy pink-haired mess that is, by some miracle, her girlfriend.
“It’s just a cold!” Elysia whines again.
“I can list a dozen diseases that feel like a common cold at first,” Mobius challenges.
Elysia knew this as a fact, but she has never been one to back up so easily, though as if reading her thoughts…
“Bronchitis, Pneumonia, Tuberculosis, Pertussis, Covid-”
“I get it! I get it!” Elysia groans, covering her ears in protest.
“Good. I’m going now,” Mobius says monotonously, gathering her books and papers on her desk and snatching her bag on her way out.
Elysia flops down against the pillows and sinks under the blankets in defeat, mentally cursing herself for getting into a relationship with someone who is not only incredibly smart, but also unbelievably competitive even when it comes to the smallest things.
She expects to hear the door slamming close, but instead, Mobius’ footsteps come to a halt, and when Elysia peeks out from under the covers, she spots her girlfriend looking over her shoulder.
“D’you forget something?”
“...Will you be okay?”
Elysia stares idly for a moment as if dumbfounded, before grinning widely.
“Aww, you’re worried about me!”
Mobius was standing too far for Elysia to actually see, but she could imagine Mobius’ eye twitching like it does everytime she says something overly sappy.
“I hope you die,” Mobius mutters.
And with that, the door finally slams shut.
Elysia only giggles, already used to her girlfriend’s theatrics. She found it quite cute and amusing.
In her mind, she begins to count from ten, eyes focused expectantly on the door.
Ten… nine… eight… nothing, But as soon as Elysia reaches one, as if on cue, the door bursts open, with Mobius standing ominously at the doorway.
“Don’t do anything funny. I left some food and medicine for you on your desk,” Mobius instructs in a deadpan tone.
“Where’s my goodbye kiss?”
Elysia could feel another brewing “Die” comment from her girlfriend, an exasperated expression creeping onto Mobius’ face, only fueled by Elysia’s shit eating grin. But instead of telling her once again to die, Mobius simply shuts the door again.
Anyone would’ve dragged Elysia to the psych ward with how she practically began giggling and kicking her feet at the display.
When Elysia wakes much later, it’s to a damp towel being pressed gently against her forehead and a terrible, throbbing headache.
Groggily, she rubs the sleep from her eyes, blinking and squinting until her blurred vision begins to clear, revealing the figure standing above her—Mobius.
Mobius who immediately notices that she is now awake.
Mobius who is now glaring at her with a reprimanding look.
“Why were all the blankets on the floor?” She demands.
“It was really hot.”
“Why are you wearing my hoodie then?”
“I got cold again.”
“So you decided to get up, walk to my closet, search for this hoodie which I purposely hid instead of just… pulling back the blankets on the floor?”
“I missed you!” Elysia argues, pouting.
“You... you ”—Mobius pinches her cheek, prompting her to cry out in agony. It wasn’t painful, Elysia was simply feeling dramatic today—“Are insufferable. ”
A subtle red dusts Mobius’ cheeks, if Elysia ever noticed it, she does not point it out. Usually the woman would immediately jump at the chance to embarrass her, but perhaps Elysia was simply that sick. She turns around and faces away before her girlfriend could catch on.
“Have you eaten yet?” she asks.
“No,” Elysia answers meekly, “wasn’t hungry.”
“You need to eat, Mei made soup for you.”
Some ruffling of plastic and clinking of metal later, Mobius returns to her side with a tray, a glass of water and a bowl of warm soup sitting on top of it.
“Can you sit up?”
Elysia hums, sluggishly pushing herself up with her elbows and scooting with her back against the headboard for support.
She was expecting Mobius to simply leave the bowl in her hands, maybe supervise her for a while to make sure she actually does eat before leaving to work on some project of hers. Instead, her girlfriend sits by her side, scoops a spoonful of soup, blows on it to cool it down, then brings it close to Elysia’s lips.
“Eat,” Mobius simply says.
Elysia obediently opens her mouth, letting Mobius feed her. She feels more lightheaded now, her cheeks growing warmer, but not from the sickness.
The elf is oddly silent throughout the entirety of her girlfriend feeding her, Mobius found it quite unsettling considering how mouthy Elysia had been this morning despite being sick. With every spoonful that she fed to Elysia, she simply only stares at her with a look that Mobius couldn’t quite decipher.
It continues on for quite a while, they’ve almost reached the bottom of the bowl until Mobius’ curiosity gets the best of her.
“What’s wrong?”
Elysia continues to stare at her for a few more seconds, long enough that Mobius begins to worry that her girlfriend was having a stroke, but suddenly, Elysia bursts into tears.
Mobius hurriedly places the tray aside on the bedside table, the contents nearly falling over in her haste. She quickly joins her girlfriend on the bed, pulling her into a hug.
“Ellie? What’s wrong?”
The elf merely slumps against her shoulders, sobbing, “I-I… I just-”
“Breathe, honey.”
“I just… I love you so much,” Elysia manages between sobs.
“This cold really is making you delusional.”
The comment only makes her girlfriend cry harder, earning herself a swat on her shoulder.
Mobius laughs fondly, cupping Elysia’s tear stained cheeks in her hands and staring amusedly at how pathetic the elf looked before her before pressing a chaste kiss on her forehead.
It does help, Elysia seemingly calming down after a few minutes, but instead of being pleased, her actions seemed to only fuel her girlfriend’s anger.
Mobius tilts her head, dumbfounded. “What?”
Elysia frowned. “You missed.”
“Missed what?”
The angry elf then leans over and kisses Mobius on the lips. It was only brief, but enough to render Mobius speechless.
And the sight is what finally pulls out a smile from Elysia.
“I’m going to kill you,” Mobius threatens Elysia the very next day.
Her words do not carry much impact though, not when it’s followed by one pathetic sneeze.
Elysia only giggles mischievously, happily snuggling against her girlfriend under the blankets.
If Mobius does kill her, it would be worth it.