Author's Note:
I'm not a doctor so don't quote me bro. Just don't.
I wanted to add the song "antidote" by travis scott up at the top, but i'm too lazy.
Enjoy!
Luck's Point of View:
I'm in a foggy room with complete strangers, sipping on something strong and slightly addicting. My head's doing backflips on a tightrope, bound to fall off at any moment. I reach for my pocket to pay for the drink I had no intention of finishing, but a soft hand stops me. I see (Y/n) smile down at me before paying my tab. She takes my hand and leads me to the opposite corner of the room where a small table awaits us. It's much quieter over here. I can finally breathe.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her.
She just smiled sweetly, playing with her hair ever so timidly. Her scent was enticing to me; it made me want to get closer...so I did. Whatever's running through my system right now has me feeling greedy.
Soon enough, I'm caressing her face and slowly leaning in. Before our lips can lock as I had hoped, she pulls away and her smile fades.
"What's wrong, (Y/n)?"
Her mesmerizing eyes meet with my own and I'm all ears. "When are you coming back, Luck?"
"What? I'm already here, silly." I attempt to joke.
She shook her head. "Come back. We're worried."
"Wait...what?"
Suddenly the fogged scene fades away and I'm left in a suffocating heat. I see someone running towards me, but I black out.
~Time Skip~
Your Point of View:
"Where's that report on that miner's condition?"
"He suffered trauma directly to the cerebral cortex as well as a fractured rib. So far, we only see signs of poor muscle control. Further testing's being conducted to find aphasia or any memory loss."
"Good. And his son?"
"A minor concussion and two broken ribs. He's being taken care of."
"So where are we off to now?"
"Luck Voltia showed up this morning with a high fever. One of his teammates found him unconscious in the snow and brought him here. Apparently he'd just returned from a mission, going days without sleep. He was only in the snow ten minutes total."
I sighed in disappointment at my good friend's carelessness. I take out my grimoire to find the right healing spell before entering his room. As always, he was smiling.
"(Y/n)! You came for me!" he grinned weakly.
Preferring that he rest, I shake my head. "Save your energy, Luck. You're overworking yourself."
The blonde only laughs at my advice, avoiding the matter at hand. It's like he doesn't think he's sick.
"I'm fine!" he shrugged, confirming my suspicions. "I took a nap and everything's okay now."
Highly doubtful, I checked his temperature and nearly smacked him on the head for lying. "Then why the hell are you still burning up?!"
Once more, he shrugged. "I feel great!"
I narrowed my eyes as some sort of intimidation tactic, but he was unbothered. Regardless of what he tells me, it's my job to aid him.
"Lay still, okay? I have just the spell."
Surprisingly, he complies without a word. I lifted my grimoire and performed an ideal remedy. If this were a broken arm or bruised hand, I could have it healed in a minute. Illnesses can't be rushed to vanish. The body needs time to grow an immunity. The best I can do is temporarily lower his fever and boost the healing process just a fraction.
As I'm conducting the spell, I feel that something's off. This fever isn't normal.
"Hey, Luck, has anything been troubling you lately? It's possible you have a psychogenic fever. Sometimes fever's can be caused by stress, you know."
He ponders for a moment before placing a hand to his heart.
"Yeah," he admits. "I can't get my mind off of these thoughts. My heart begins to race and I get impatient, but there's nothing I can do."
"What thoughts?" I asked, searching for an alternative spell. "Are they anxiety related?"
He shakes his head. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course." I set aside my grimoire.
His eyes wandered to my own, igniting a butterfly effect within me. First, I'm struggling to keep eye contact. The next moment, I'm unable to concentrate on anything and anyone but him and his pending question.
"Is it possible to be love sick?"
I was baffled by his question but decided to put some thought to it. Have I ever been love sick before?
"Like I said, psychogenic fevers can be caused by emotional distress," I shrugged. "You can call it "love sick" if you want...But why do you ask?"
"Because I get the feeling that your magic won't be the cure to this one," he sighs.
"Then if you're truly love sick, only you would know the antidote." I closed my grimoire and took a seat next to him, tired of standing.
"Give it to me, then," he beamed.
"...You heard me, right? I said I don't have the antidote," I pouted.
"But you are the antidote."
Me?!
...
...Would I get fired for kissing a patient?
"I think your fever's getting worse. Maybe you should just rest," I sheepishly backed away.
I slid off the bed, but his hand guided me right back. In a heartbeat, our lips collide and my body nearly goes limp. Medical school never taught me how to react to this, so I just allow myself to let go. He guides me through the motions for a while before breaking away for air.
"All better now!" He rejoices.
Admittedly flustered, I still managed to roll my eyes. I whip out a thermometer to check his temperature.
"There's no way that your fever went away in just a-"
Ninety-seven degrees?! But how?! He was just in the hundreds!
"What the hell?!" I shrieked, falling off the bed with the intention of escaping this witchcraft. "That can't be right!"
"Told ya!" he laughed.
I sigh in defeat.
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a cure for love sickness. Use responsibly.
The End.
Author's Note:
What in the nut sack value pack shark attack piggyback cardiac cadillac haystack zodiac jumping jack quack quack soundtrack am i doing up at two in the morning when i have classes tomorrow? The world shall never know.