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The first day of a full winter had just started in Inkopolis Square. Freshly fallen piles of snow coated every surface, ready to be stepped and played in by cephalopods all around. It was all beautiful to Eight, who gazed out the window of his room. He always loved the sight and tended to act like a child whenever he saw snow falling from the sky. The placement of his bed set right against the window made for a perfect and comfortable view out into the snowy world. To be out there, playing in the white wonderland with friends, having snowball fights, making snowmen, or even drinking a cup of hot chocolate. God, that sounded nice.
Too bad he always got horribly sick during this season.
To Eight's knowledge, illness was one of the worst features of the surface by far. He never got sick during his time underground - from all he remembered - so it wasn't something he was familiar with. But now this was his second time getting a cold and the one thing he can say with one hundred percent accuracy was that-
“I hate this so much!...” Eight groaned and rolled over in his blanket-covered, post-tornado-esque mess of a bed. The grip on his fluffy and incredibly warm comforter tightened as he tried to get adjusted in his own sweat. The comforter covered his upper body and one of his legs had a sock on, leaving the other bare. He was a complete wreck and he couldn't care less at the moment.
"Threeeee, my head hurts…" He whined louder to get to the inkling’s attention.
Three was in the kitchen making soup for Eight. Apparently it was chicken alphabet noodle soup - Pearl's recipe she’d always make whenever Eight got sick. Her cooking skills were decent enough to help out her ill boyfriend, even though she never planned for this. Originally Pearl and Marina were supposed to watch after Eight while Three went on watch with Cuttlefish, but idol issues came into play and things got shifted around; now here they were. Not that it would be too big of a problem - if it wasn't for the fact that Eight was a huge baby when he got a fever.
"Shut up and close your eyes, then you'll feel better." Three stirred the boiling soup as the aroma started to fill the room.
The only response she got was another drawn-out whine and and a few coughs.
Three sighed and turned the temperature down, finishing up the food. She loved Eight and all, but she could only deal with so much before her patience ran thin - as if it wasn't already. She shook her head and searched through the cabinets for a suitable bowl, which was easy enough given Eight only had one.
Eight solemnly watched her as his fever continued to fuck him up. He honestly didn't want to be a bother to Three, but she also didn't want to leave him by himself - she insisted Pearl would kill her if she did. Biting his tongue, he swallowed a groan and closed his stinging eyes. Eight's head was throbbing and his body was covered in a burning sweat, though Three said that was a good thing - sweating out his fever apparently. What a shitty situation to be in. Hopefully things would get better.
Eight felt something warm touch his head and he instinctively pulled away.
"Hey, got you some soup."
Eight opened one eye to Three holding a steaming red bowl. "... M'kay…"
Eight sat up from his mess and placed a pillow on his lap, allowing Three to set it down. He looked down into the warm liquid and found noodles in the shapes of letters bumping into pieces of vegetables and chicken.
"What… is this?..."
"Chicken noodle soup - well, alphabetized. It's good for you, so uh, have fun." Three shrugged, walking over to the bathroom.
Eight picked up the spoon out the soup and played with the broth. "What are you doing?"
"Finding some medicine for your snotty-ass." A door slammed shut and the noise echoed throughout the room. "Shit, are you broke or something? I can't find anything…"
Eight felt a sweat drop and swallowed hard. He had medicine alright, but it wasn't going to be easily taken. "No, I have money…"
"Where the hell is your medicine?"
"Um… Do I necessarily need the medicine? I am sure this soup is fine…" Eight popped a spoon full of soup in his mouth and hummed obnoxiously loud - in hindsight, that was stupid and unnecessary.
Three, apparently, thought the same as she poked her head out the bathroom and raised an eyebrow at Eight.
"Eight."
"Hmm?" Not the best idea to start chugging down the boiling soup, but hey, burning his tongue wasn't too bad for Eight; especially if it got him out of taking medicine that tasted like straight ass. Burning. Fuck grape.
Three stared at him in disbelief. "... If you fucking hurt yourself, it's not on me." She continued her search outside the bathroom.
Yeah, Eight's mouth was on fire at that point. He lowered the bowl and silently cursed himself as he coughed for the dumbass idea in the first place. Now his tongue and lips were stinging - not to mention he was sweating way worse than before to the point of his afro deflating. Fucking grand.
Eight looked into the remaining broth in his bowl with some noodles and chicken scraps remaining. It tasted really good despite the burning of actual hell. Three was an awesome cook, just like she was an awesome person in general. Again, Eight didn't know why she put up with his bullshit and cared for him like this while she obviously could do much, much better with her life, but he was so very grateful for it. It was amazing how hard he fell for her.
Meanwhile Three was quietly shit talking the globe-headed octoling for not having his fucking medicine in a reasonable space. Who doesn't put their medication in the bathroom of all places? Or even a cabinet in the kitchen at least? Eight. That's fucking who. She swore that octoling was going to be the death of - if not him, then Four. Three had just about looked everywhere in the room for maybe even just a bottle of pills, but no. Nowhere. Eight was going to get worse and you know what, it was not going to be her fault.
Nope.
Not at all.
…
…
Okay, now she was just feeling guilty.
Three huffed and opened the fridge to get a bottle of water, she could just make Eight chug it and he'll be fine - water fixed everything.
Or... Wait. Fuck. Never mind.
She grabbed a bottle from the side shelf and went to close it, but something caught her eye: a small brown container.
"Eight."
"Yes?"
"Why in the goddamn fuck is your medicine in the fridge?"
"... Is that not what you do?"
"Not unless it says so, dome-head!" Three rolled her eyes, taking the medicine and closing the door. It was grape flavor - for whatever godforsaken reason - and required one cup for a dose. Sweet.
"I can't believe you got grape of all flavors."
"It is not like they taste any different."
"What about bubblegum?" Three shrugged, walking over.
"It feels like snot going down and I am already experiencing that enough..."
Well… He wasn't wrong.
Three pushed over Eight's legs to make him sit up and sat next to him; she would sit in his lap, but he looked physically unable to take any weight at the moment. Taking a look at Eight, he was a weak, tired mess and it made Three's heart ache. His afro - the beautiful dome - was incredibly tangled with tentacle curls sticking out, his once white shirt was drenched with sweat and most likely soup, but the tired and solemn expression on his face really hit the nail on the coffin.Three placed a hand on his forehead. "You doing okay?.."
Eight's breath left him as he leaned into her touch. He smiled softly and lifted the bowl, turning it so she could see the inside.
'I luv u'.
Okay, no. What damn sap would ever make a message out of leftover fucking soup. No. She's not blushing. Shut the fuck up.
"You motherfucker…" Three wiped the sweat off his forehead - cleaning her hand on the comforter because gross - and softly placed a kiss against it. "So damn cheesy."
Eight lifted his shirt and coughed. "Let me be romantic!"
"While you're full of mucus and coughing up a lung, sure."
Eight poked his lip out as he finished the rest of his soup. He saw the medicine in Three's hands and nearly choked on the spoon. He really hated medicine.
Eight came to the conclusion that inkling medication was the worst thing invented on the surface; mainly because of the flavoring. It only made the drugs taste like shit-covered ass - wow, that was a new one. Even though, Eight was sure it would taste even more terrible without flavoring, but the point still stands. He’d rather die of a common cold than take the medicine and, yes, that is sad.
He watched Three open the bottle in fear, biting down onto his spoon.
“Can I borrow your spoon real quick?”
Hell no.
Eight kept the spoon and leaned away from her to prove his point, peering dead into her eyes. Her very… very beautiful eyes. God damn, that was a gorgeous shade of purple - an amethyst hue to be specific. And he was off topic again, as always.
“Fuck it, I’m using the cup then.”
Shit.
“I am not-” Eight took out the spoon and coughed violently. “T-Taking it!”
Three glare at him. “Don’t even try it.” She finished pouring the medicine and held out the mini cup - god, it smelled bad. “Shit, have fun drinking…”
Eight looked at the cup and looked back at Three. “Fucked one has me.”
Speaking Octarian - great. Three rolled her eyes. “You know, the faster you get this done, the faster you’ll feel better.”
“No.”
“Eight.”
“No.”
“Eight I swear to COD!”
The bratty glare Eight gave Three was enough to pop her vein. “Know what? Fucking fine!” Three took the cup and drank the medicine herself, scrunching up her nose.
“Three, what in the-” Eight was instantly silenced by the pleasurable interruption from Three. Not saying it wasn’t welcomed. Their noses bumped into each other - which got a chuckle out of Eight - before Three readjusted herself to the sweet kiss. Her lips were cold and rough against his warm and plump ones. Three grabbed the collar of Eight’s soggy shirt to pull in him deeper, causing a jagged moan to erupt from his throat. His sweaty, shaky hands didn’t know where to place themselves, but decided her waist was fine. Eight was concerned on Three catching his cold, however, she must know what she’s doing. Three’s tongue prodded against his lips, parting them herself before Eight could even answer. His eyes peeled open to her sudden forwardness - confused on where she was going before he got his answer.
A goddamn mouthful of grape medicine came flooding into Eight’s mouth.
That was the most disgusting thing to happen to Eight in his entire damn life, but holy shit, if Three didn't do it in a pleasing way. He had no choice, but to drink down the liquid - that taste was not going to leave his mouth. Eight’s mind was shifting between the extremely tangy aftertaste on his tongue and Three gently biting his bottom lip. A pleased moan vibrated in Eight’s throat as they separated, leaving the octoling a blushing mess.
Eight fell back into his cluster of blankets and pillows while Three looked for the missing water bottle. All that could be heard from the two was heavy breathing coming from Eight trying to ease the blush on his face. There was a moment of awkward silence.
Eight finally regained himself and sat up, glaring at Three. “I do not know whether I should be disgusted or pleased.”
“Why not both.” Three shrugged, drinking from the bottle. “At least you’ll be fine now…” She tossed the bottle to Eight, who caught it before sticking his tongue out at her. Three shook her head and poked Eight in his side - which made him slightly choke. “Scoot over.”
Eight scooted over until he pressed against the wall, letting Three take whatever space she wanted - which was practically the whole twin sized bed. The inkling planted herself right next to Eight, laying down on one of his many sweat covered pillows. “You seriously need to clean all of this shit soon.”
“Yes, but for now, have fun soaking in my sweat.” Eight finished his water and tossed the bottle onto the floor - his home was already a mess, so he couldn’t care less. "You are going to get sick now too, you know."
"Nah, after being halfway... Sanitized and all that shit, I don't get sick anymore... Weird."
"Hmm, definitely that." Eight looked over at Three, who made herself comfortable with every blanket on his bed covering her, leaving her head exposed. “Comfy?”
“Smells like ass.”
“Yeah, well that is my ass, so.”
Three tried to hold back her laugh, but it came out as quiet giggling instead. Damn, she could be cute. Eight gave her a small smile before tugging on a sheet. “May I join you?”
After a minute, Three lifted the blankets up for Eight, which he quickly accepted. Eight wrapped his arms around her midsection and buried his face into the crook of her neck - he had to shift down the bed for this, because of his height. The smell of sweat and soup filled Three’s nose, but it didn’t matter to her at the moment. Three yawned and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Shit, now you have me tired.”
“I am sorry for being a handful.”
“No, you’re fine…” Three twirled a stray tentacle around her finger - earning a happy sigh from Eight. His breathing seemed to be better than earlier, which was a good sign that everything Three had done wasn’t pointless. She hoped he got better quick, because a miserable Eight was just fucking depressing. Three felt a poke at her chest and looked down at Eight, only to receive a soft peck on her lips.
“Thank you for taking care of me, baby.”
Three wanted to make a snarky comment, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she kissed him back on his nose. “No problem, softie.”
Even though winter was beautiful, it always made Eight sick without fail. That was the worst part of the surface and always will be - but now, it didn’t annoy the octoling as much. Especially with some alphabet soup to help make things better.