“You know I’m fairly certain that being ill doesn’t get you a free pass to be a prat, now just stay there and I’ll get you some tea alright?” She replied with a shake of her head before swaying away from his side.
Whether or not permission was granted, Eric was very much hellbent on being a prat. He felt dreadful: lungs ached and head pounded, fever burning something awful. “Jus’ hurry,” he muttered after her.
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