RP: It's not the Dragon Pox Date: March 29, 2006 Characters: Lucius Location: 7 Church Street, Upper Slaughter Private/Public: Private Rating: G Warnings: Sick and whiny Lucius Summary: Lucius hasn't been feeling well, and though he's not willing to admit it, he's terrified.
The room was spinning as he opened this eyes. It was spinning as he closed them too, for that matter. Or when he rose, or sat or stayed lying down. Lucius groaned, trying to push the realisation from his mind once more.
It was just a cold. A slight fever. Tiredness. Even age. It was not the Dragon Pox. Never mind that the entire town was down with it, it simply wasn't. It couldn't be. It wasn't allowed to be.
The marks on his body said something different of course, though he tried not to focus on those – even if it was hard with the nearly painfully way they itched. Still it was not the Dragon Pox. It wasn't allowed to be. It couldn't be.
His father had died from the bloody disease and he was NOT following suit. He refused. Just as he refused being scared. Lucius Malfoy was never scared. And he wouldn't die of a simple cold, because that was what it was. Nothing more. And if he wished for his wife by his side it was not a sign of weakness. Just a sign that it had been very long indeed since he saw her, touched her, felt her lips against his.
Missing his wife, his son, the grandson he'd never seen had nothing to do with being ill. Because it wasn't the Dragon Pox and tomorrow he'd feel better. Yes. Tomorrow. All he needed was some sleep. If only the room would stop spinning enough to allow him to sleep.