Reno knocked on Triss's door again. He was getting worried, she would skip work sometimes but she never took this long to answer the door. He started to reach for his key when his PHS chimed. Text message? What the fuck?
"Just let yourself in. I can't come to the door."
"Babe?" he called as he swung the door open. "Hey, Triss?"
He heard a moan of pain.
He took off running through the house, "Baby! What's- oh." He skidded to a halt at the doorway to the bathroom and stared at the miserable sight before him. His ordinarily composed girlfriend sat on the bathroom floor, long legs splayed out awkwardly beneath her, dark brown hair piled on the top of her head, wearing his sweatshirt that she could practically swim in, her cheek pressed into the decorative, and more importantly cool, tile wall.
"I think I'm gonna die," she moaned up at him.
"Triss, honey," he chuckled as he slid down the door frame to sit next to her, "you're not gonna die."
She groaned again, "I wish I would."
They spent most of the afternoon like that, Reno gently rubbing circles on her sore back.
"Oh, no, not again," she whimpered and launched herself at the toilet.
Damn. I hate this. She shouldn't be the one puking. I can't stand seeing her like this. Maybe this is pay back for all the times she had to take care of me. Dammit! Why couldn't it be Rude that's sick?
She flushed the toilet and sighed, "Okay. I think that's it."
"Good!" Reno helped her stand.
"Ugh, water," she groaned and he chuckled. "Shut up," she growled over the brim of her cup, though he saw that smile of hers peeking out the corners of her mouth. Can't fool me, little girl.
"You sure you're better now?"
"Yeah."
"Well then," he smirked and snaked an arm around her waist, "let's move this party somewhere more comfortable.
Triss chuckled and looked up at him, "So what match is on that you want to watch?"
"Oh, none," he grinned and winked down at her.