*Cry's POV*
I locked myself in the bathroom, went over to the toilet, shut the lid, and sat down. Removing my mask, I placed it in my lap, and buried my face in my hands. "Blushing? I'm not blushing! Why would I be blushing? There's no reason to blush," I scoffed to myself. Something inside of me, however, seemed to be yelling at me. I didn't know what it was, or what it was saying. After just listening for a minute, I heard my heart beat loudly, telling me something. Something rather shocking:
You have a crush on {Name}, Cry.
I slapped with my thigh with my mask hard enough so that there was a sting running through my leg. "Shut up, Cry! You do not have a crush on {Name}! You're giving yourself weird ideas!," I shouted at myself.
Just face it, Cry. You do like {Name}
I sighed. "I guess it is true," I mumbled. "Just look at the signs, Cry. You can't make eye contact with him/her, and you blush at the mention of him/her. You like {Name}, and there's nothing you can do to change it."
That's when there was the clicking of the bathroom door being unlocked, and it slowly creaked opened. Quickly, I slid my mask back on so that the person wouldn't see my face. They stepped into the bathroom, and softly closed the behind them. I breathed out, seeing that it was only Mr. Chair.
"H-hey, Cry," he said softly. "You alright? I could kind of hear you yelling out in here from the living room, since it's so quiet around the apartment." I nodded, and could feel my face turn red again from behind my mask. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled. "Thanks for asking M-Mr. Chair." Mr. Chair slowly began to approach me sitting on the toilet, and I eyed the oral thermometer in his hands.
"Your face is all red. Are you sure you're feeling okay?," Mr. Chair asked. Suddenly, I felt like I was going to throw up. I nodded again anyways. "Lemme just take your temperature," he said gently, as if he was a male nurse. "Just to be completely sure."
He knelt in front of me, and pushed my mask up so my mouth was exposed. Mr. Chair slipped the metal part of the thermometer into my mouth, and under my tongue, and waited for the shrill beep. Then he took it out of my mouth.
"99.7, you're running a slight temperature, Cry," Mr. Chair said. "Are you sure there's nothing bothering you?" I felt like I was going to vomit any second. "L-listen, Mr. Chair; I've gotta tell you s-something," I said. "A-alright. Go ahead - I'm listening," Mr. Chair answered.
"Uh...I, um...found myself liking {Name}," I whispered. "I-it was just out of nowhere! I really just..."
I could handle my churning stomach any longer. I pushed my mask back up so that my mouth was exposed again, got off the toilet, opened the lid, and threw up violently. I held my stomach, and couldn't feel anything but my aching belly and burning hot face. Mr. Chaid gently rubbed my back as I got sick. "It's alright. You're probably just not feeling well," he whispered. Once I was done getting sick, I flushed the toilet, and closed my eyes. Dropping my head, I began to feel weightless, and unable to hold myself up. Before I knew it, I collapsed onto the cold bathroom tiles, and conked out.