Awwww feel better soon. ❤ ❤ ❤
“I’m positively dying,” Itori complains, flopping onto her sofa.
“Itori, you have a cold,” Souta says, crossing his arms. “I don’t feel bad for you.”
“Uta, he’s being mean to me,” whines Itori.
“There, there, it’s okay.” Roma holds out a glass of water, and Nico begins to braid Itori’s hair.
“See, they’re nice, brat,” Itori mumbles to Souta. He merely laughs, until Uta glares at him.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.” He holds up his hands.
“Do you want me to administer last rites?” Donato asks dryly.
“There are two types of people,” Nico sings, pointing to Souta and Donato.
“See, the clowns can even make a cold fun.” Uta pats Itori’s shoulder.
“I hope Souta gets it next.”
“I’m sticking far across the room, dear.” Souta scoots into the corner.
“Let’s watch a horror movie.” Roma grins as Itori perks up.
They settle in, and Itori’s mind forgets she feels like death the entire time.
“Good choice,” Nico tries to say, but her throat is scratchy. She frowns.
“And you thought I was being stupid!” Souta yells.
“I still do,” Nico whispers. Shit. She’s really sick, isn’t she.
“Uta, I’m going to request you make us all plague masks,” Donato mutters.