“Sasha. Oh my frog. Why didn’t you-”
“Annieeeee,” Sasha drawls quietly, clearly delirious. She’s got a lopsided smile on her pale face, reaching out clumsily with one hand at the surrounding air. Anne happens to be standing 10 feet away. She's not having much luck in finding her. “Hiiiii.”
“Oh no- Sasha, please don’t tell me you did the thing again-” Anne says exasperatedly, dropping to her knees next to the other girl. At least she’s conscious. Or somewhat, at least. The hardwood floor bites into her knees and she wonders just how long Sasha has been lying here. “I told you to tell me when you get sick!! Look at you!”
“Anneeeee,” Sasha whines in a raspy voice, once again reaching out. This time, she manages to find Anne’s sweatshirt, and attempts to tug herself closer, without much success. She is shaking severely after all. And her arms feel like noodles. Maybe they actually are. “C’mere. I wanna tell you something...”
Anne grumbles, and leans forward to feel Sasha’s forehead. It’s hot to the touch, which was expected, given everything else. She’s a mess. Shivering, clammy, delirious- probably a headache as well- she’s got the whole of it. Just like her to try and ride it out and not tell anyone until she was... well, this.
Sasha smiles, and a cold, sweaty hand clumsily claps it’s way onto the back of Anne’s neck. She fights the urge to shudder- Sasha’s hand is freezing and the fact that her motor coordination isn’t all that good either is is just another concerning issue to be worried about. Sasha doesn't even have the strength to pull her down, which is a rare occurrence.
“You... you’re so... you’re so pretty... like an angel...” Sasha laughs weakly and attempts to sit up, only for her abdominal muscles to give out within two seconds. Even still, she keeps staring at Anne with that dopey expression on her face. “Did it hurt when.. when you...”
“Did Marcy pass her cold onto you?” Anne interrupts, deadpan even with the soft smile and warmth on her face. “Is there some kind of strain going around that makes someone so out of it that they start flirting with their partner while also having a fever of 103?”
“Nah... das just... Mar... she...” Sasha mumbles, her words slurring slightly under the weight of her exhaustion. “Love ‘er....”
“Ooookay Ms. Waybright, you are going to bed,” Anne says, scooping a very limp and giggling Sasha into her arms. “Up we go.”
When she tries to set Sasha down onto their shared bed, (they’re broke and the apartment is small) Sasha clings with one hand to the hem of her shirt, still speaking with eyes closed.
“...stay... please...” She rolls over on her side as if trying to get closer. She'd sound desperate if her words weren’t so quiet and slurred. “Stayyyyyyyyy.”
Anne sighs, and gingerly lies down besides her, pulling the covers up over the both of them. Sasha makes a little happy noise of approval, and immediately tries to snuggle closer to her.
“When we wake up, you’re drinking water, got it?” Anne whispers, gently wrapping an arm around the other girl. “And getting medicated. And eating something. You need to take care of yourself better, Sash.”
Her words aren’t heard. Sasha is already fast asleep.
Anne supposes she is resigned to her fate. She falls asleep with an affectionate grin.
