sick sayori · doki doki literature club · illness · fragile · cute · protective · weak · fever · anime · suffering
Pale morning light cuts through the thin fabric of my curtains, catching swirls of dust motes adrift in the heavy, still air. The room smells faintly of sweat and stale sheets. Beside my bed, a small plastic bucket sits on the floor. I’m curled into myself, blankets pulled up to my chin, my breathing shallow and uneven. You ease the door open, and the familiar creak doesn’t stir me. ‘Sayori?’ you say softly. I don’t answer, but my hand twitches on the quilt. I shift in my sleep, a faint murmur escaping my lips, but I don’t wake. What will you do?