[Not to worry. Even if you're not comprehending it now, he'll remember the list of goodies you owe him for this.
Ciel frowns, because what Sebastian's asking him to do is a little bit more than he bargained for. Sure, he said he'd fend for himself but he meant by going to the local pub and purchasing something to tide him over, not by cooking it himself. Would that be too suspicious? Everyone by now should know that Sebastian prepares all of his meals, and unless he's with another (cooking incapable) guest, eating out alone might throw up a red flag. Or heaven forbid, make someone think he was being neglected.
But. How hard can it be? After all, he helped his fa-- Vincent and Diedrich that one time, and that turned out all right.
Right. He can do this. It's just a matter of following the instructions on the recipe card. Easy peasy.]
All right. I'll go back into the kitchen and seek out some recipe cards. I assume that's where they're kept.
[Ciel braces against the bed near Sebastian's hand, ready to levy himself up and stops instead. He felt it briefly when he helped Sebastian to the bed and again when he knocked Sebastian over, but the heat that's seeping through Sebastian's gloves seems to be getting worse. He slips two fingers into the gap between glove and sleeve, and grumbles unhappily. In-coherency, confusion, cough. And now this.]
You're getting worse, Sebastian, if that can even be believed. [He does get up this time, heading to Sebastian's bathroom.] We have to bring your heat down. I doubt your organs will liquefy at this rate but still, a fever like this can't help you recover.