Tony lay in his bed. He had been awake for awhile and was aching to carry on with his schedule. He needed to finish up the day but seemed to barely even be able to start it. He grunted as a pain grew in his stomach. His body felt as if it was being baked in an oven.
He felt... Sick.
No.
He couldn't even dare think that. He got up from his bed with a grunt. There wasn't time to be sick, especially when left with such a full schedule. He dragged onto the kitchen. Maybe a bit of breakfast would do him some good. He was actually quite surprised when he got to the table. He first saw Sketch, the little notepad he first thought would still be asleep.
"Oh, there you are Tony! Hm, you seem a bit out of it today..."
He let out a groan and nodded. He had not the strength to deny it, nor did he the time. He hated admitting things to Notepad, especially things he knew she'd hold against him or so much as laugh at him for. They had a strange love hate... What, relationship? It didn't seem to be the right word for it...
He looked up at her, prepared for that horrid, hight pitched laugh. To his surprise though, she was making soup.
Soup? What the devil was she making soup for? Her taste always seemed strange, yes; sweets for breakfast and an orange for dinner. But this was just weird. No, not weird. More of a simple surprising choice. Not weird. It was just he-
She smiled lovingly at him. What was this? Was she planning something evil again today? something to throw his schedule off?
She passed him the soup and sat down next to him. He paused, staring down at it for a long while.
"Okay, I don't understand. Sketch, what are you getting at here?"
"I just want to help a clock out now and then. You were up coughing your lunges out last night."
He barely remembered last night at all. He didn't even think he went to sleep because he sure didn't feel like he got a whiff of it when he woke up.
"What are you getting at?" He repeated himself, waiting for a better answer.
"Well, first I thought I'd poison you for keeping me up all night," she began with an unkind grin, staring into his direction,
"But, poor baby's sick!"
Tony, immediate reaction being a blush, looked at her as if she had just told him time hadn't ever exist.
"SICK?"
"Yep."
"I-I- of course I'm not sick! I can't be sick. I.."
Sketch frowned and picked up the spoon lying next to the soup. She began to spoon feed him it but he stopped her, refusing to have it. Her frown worsened, soon enough being replaced with a scoff.
"I did NOT make this soup for NOTHING."
"I'm not sick!"
He pouted like a child and glanced at his watch.
"And I have not the time for such foolish assumptions either way!" he stated angrily, getting up, only to hold his stomach as it ached. He sat back down feeling as though he'd puke. He hated wasting time and he also hated when Sketch was right. He felt heat flow throughout his body and he felt an aching in his chest. Today was just not a good day.
Sketch smirked as she saw he'd given in and began to spoon feed him more soup. This time he let her.