A hand slid under Dark Pit's jet black bangs and rested on his forehead. The contact made him flinch slightly but he allowed it.
"You're warm." Robin tested the angel's temperature again with the back of his hand.
"Shouldn't you use a thermometer? I don't think that's very accurate."
The tactician sighed, "I don't have one, but I can try another method." He let Pittoo's tresses fall back into place. The bed-ridden boy curiously looked up.
Before he could ask what this new method was, he noticed that the distance between him and Robin was getting shorter and shorter.
"What are you doing?" Red eyes went wide and Dark Pit could feel his cheeks burning from the sudden closeness. Their foreheads touched and left an uncomfortably small amount of space between their eyes, their noses, and especially, their lips. Hazel irises feigned worry.
"Now you're warmer than before, I think you really do have a fever."
Feeling that his mind was about ready to explode, the dark angel retreated under his covers.
"Leave. Now." The words were muffled but still held their usual rudeness.
Robin smiled. Dark Pit was really fun to mess with.
