-Demyx Is Sick-
Xarvis sighed, watching as the little boy, now only about four, threw up again into the toilet. He cried pathetically, which hurt Xarvis to watch. He handed the little blond a cup of water. Demyx took it and eagerly drank half of it's contents. He handed it back, and with a whimper, he began throwing up- again.
After some time, Xarvis finally asked, "Do you think you can eat a little something, buddy?" Demyx shook his head, the tears riding down his cheeks. The man gently wiped them away as the blond yawned.
"You're so tired, aren't you?" he gently said. Demyx looked up at him, dazed. His eyes began to cross.
"Come here..." Xarvis told him, sitting down on the bathroom floor. He grabbed a towel, stretched out his arms, and Demyx gladly sat down and curled up on his lap. The man wrapped him up, using the towel to keep him warm and comfortable. The little boy fell asleep almost immediately in his arms. He smiled to see that Demyx now looked peaceful.
Soon, morning came, and Xarvis found himself being shaken awake by the shoulder.
"Good morning!" Demyx sang happily.
"Good morning," Xarvis replied, realizing he was still leaning against cabinets below the sink, "Are you feeling better? You look better."
"I guess... My tummy still kinda hurts..." he honestly replied, scrunching his face up.
"Well... Do you want something to eat, now?" Xarvis asked.
"I guess so... well... O.K." Demyx decided.
"Oh, good," he sighed.
Demyx was served breakfast in bed.
Once he was finished, he asked, "Can I play my Sitar, now?"
"Not yet," Xarvis told him, suppressing a laugh when Demyx pouted.
"Now, don't you give me that look," he said, "You need to wait until you're better."
It was still early, so the other little Organization members still hadn't had their breakfast...