RP: Tuesday is Snooze Day.
Date: 4 March 2006 Characters: Natalie McDonald and Colin Creevey Location: Honeydukes Private/Public: Private Rating: PG Warnings: Both Natalie and Colin are sick. What to do with Honeydukes? Summary: Natalie and Colin whine about how blech they feel.
So much ouch. So much ugh. So not on.
Natalie clutched at her head as the wireless blared music into her room, alerting her that it was time to get up and get ready for another ridiculously long and painful day at work. She would have shoved the radio off her bedside table had it not hurt so much to move. Instead, she glared at the stupid contraption, slowly inching her arm over to turn the damn thing off. Loud noises and migraines so did not belong together this early in the morning. Or ever.
She was bleary-eyed as she slowly pulled herself up, nearly crawling out of her bed before stumbling to the bathroom. She was quite sure that the room probably shouldn't be swaying like it was, and that immediate head-rush thing wasn't supposed to last more than a few seconds.
When the darkness finally receded from her vision, she looked at herself in the mirror, her jaw dropping at what she saw. Dozens and dozens--maybe even hundreds--of disgusting, puss-filled spots covered the skin that she could see. She lifted her shirt up a bit so that she could see her belly, nearly bursting into tears from frustration, fatigue, and pain when she saw that the spots there looked even worse than the ones that hadn't been covered by clothing. She could tell that the fever that she'd gone to bed with last night hadn't receded at all. If anything, it'd just gotten higher.
Her head was killing her. The pounding was so bad that it was making her nauseous, and she slipped down to the floor by the toilet, dry heaving as she lifted the lid. It wasn't that she needed to throw up at all. She just felt like it would happen eventually, the way her head was feeling. She heaved again, feeling the bile rise in her throat, and she gagged as a small amount of clear liquid fell from her mouth into the toilet water.
Great, she was throwing up her stomach acid. She'd forgotten that she'd not really eaten anything yesterday. She flushed the toilet and moved back towards the sink, whining softly as she grabbed her toothbrush and began brushing her teeth. God, it even hurt to do that.
When she finished, she stumbled back into her room, standing up straight suddenly (even though it hurt to do so) when she felt the wards change. Someone was entering the shop. She glanced at the clock, breathing a sigh of relief when she realised it was probably just Colin, and she moved towards the stairs, ignoring the pain from her joints. Of course, after she made it to the stairs, she realised that she probably wouldn't be able to make her way down them without passing out, so she sat down on the top step, resting her head against the banister.