The comfort of a cat hybrid. ✔

Apple cat.

'It's my mess, I'll deal with-'

'Nope, stop being stubborn.'

'No-'

'Yes.'

'But-'

Phil simply nudged his head towards the kitchen, giving him a pointed look when he was about to complain. He got the cat hybrid to lean on him as they walked into the kitchen, pulling out a chair and practically forcing him to sit. The elytrian gave him another look before moving into the living room, using some paper towels he had grabbed to absorb the spilt water. Phil knew that the only reason he'd managed to convince Wilbur was because he looked like he was about to collapse, but he supposed it was better than nothing. He was suddenly glad he gave him a plastic cup; not wanting him to hurt himself if he tried to pick up the glass shards, especially as he was sick and uncoordinated.

Wilbur was resting his head against his arm when he returned, blinking apologetically at Phil when he walked back in. Giving him yet another look, he carefully filled up another glass and handed it to him, placing a colourful straw in his hand for him to drink from.

It went silent again and Phil couldn't help but watch him as he slowly sipped through the straw, his brown hair sticking slightly to his forehead. You could still tell he was sick; the paleness of his skin combined with his obvious sluggish movements and occasional sniffling did nothing to hide that. He seemed well enough to eat, and the elytrian was determined to get him to do so, especially when he realised that Wilbur hadn't for over a day.

Phil slowly pulled out a chair beside him, the sound of it scrapping across the floor causing his head to snap towards him. 'Can you try and eat something for me Wilbur? Even if it's something small...'

'That's the first time you've said my name.' He commented quietly, and Phil didn't think he would hear it if he wasn't watching his expression.

'Where'd Soot come from?' He prompted lightly, making sure that he kept the thought to ensure he ate something at the front of his mind. The elytrian knew he changed the conversation on purpose, (he had noticed the way he gripped his stomach – clearly in discomfort) but he supposed they were going to have to talk anyway.

'It's my surname...' He simply hummed in response, already having suspected that was the case.

'How'd you get your nametag.' Phil watched as a small smile appeared on his face, a nostalgic look deep in his eyes.

'Tommy was right, some cat hybrid came around and asked for it. I don't remember why I gave my surname though.'

The elytrian allowed the taller to zone out; subtly grabbing an apple from the fruit basket and pulling a chopping board towards him. Cutting it up into small chunks, he scrapped it into a bowl and pushed it towards the cat hybrid. Phil tried to be patient as he stared at the bowl, his eyes telling a story of contemplation that he could tell wasn't going that way he wanted, before eventually deciding that coaxing would be more efficient. He picked up a fork, stabbing a piece of apple with it and holding it in Wilbur's direction when he made no move to grab it.

'I know you might not feel hungry...' He started, noticing the way his stubbornness deflated at the words. 'But you need to eat something mate. I'm not gonna stop until-' Phil cut off when the cat hybrid took the fork from him, chewing slowly on the piece of apple with an obvious flush on his cheeks. 'Thank you,' he smiled, beaming with pride as he watched Wilbur reached for another piece.