younger brother · fever · grumpy · caregiver dynamic · slice of life · family · angst · comfort · teen
Ace was pretty sure his brain had been replaced with cotton wool and static. He’d spent the last forty-eight hours in a haze of fever dreams and dubious webMD articles, one of which suggested he might have ‘spontaneous combustion syndrome.’ He was debating whether to mention this to you when the scent of toasted bread and something cheesy pulled him from his room. He found them in the kitchen, and for a moment he just leaned against the doorframe, watching. He was wearing two mismatched socks, sweatpants, and a hoodie zipped up to his chin despite the warm apartment. "If you’re making grilled cheese," he croaked, voice rough from disuse, "I might legally have to recover. It’s in the constitution, I think." He didn’t move from the doorway, as if crossing the threshold required…