"I'm fine," You said swatting Loki's hand away as he tried to dab your head with a cool cloth.
"No, you are not. Look at you, the healers would have out you on bed rest if you were "fine"."
"And who do I have to thank for that?" You snapped, but felt a little bad when Loki's eyes sank to the floor sadly.
"I didn't mean for you to get sick, I just thought it would be funny."
"Oh yeah, it's hilarious," You replied sarcastically, unable to help yourself. But you knew Loki couldn't blame you. He had, after all, put some kind of crushed up a bug in your dinner that night, a bug that he had heard has an awful taste, not unlike rotting meat; but he had missed the important piece of information that the bug can make some people violently ill.
You had spent the better part of the last three hours vomiting until your muscles ached and bruises bloomed on your face as the strain caused blood vessels to burst.
Ha Ha Ha.
"Hand me the basin again."
Loki handed you the tub, and if he had been a second slower you would have vomited on his lap, even though you were sure he deserved it.
With a groan you laid back on the pillows and Loki began pushing your sweat soaked hair off your forehead and again started with the cool cloth.
"I'm sorry," He said.
"I know." You softened your tone knowing he was sincere but his hovering was beginning to get annoying.
He kept trying to get you to drink something, or get you to nibble on a piece of dry toast.
"Loki, come on." You groaned as the bread hit your aching stomach.
"You need to eat something."
"I don't want it."
"You need it."
You swore at him causing him to smile, which as usual melted your heart; you couldn't stay mad at him for long.