~I bleed red~ | An Ink x Reader

~Y/n's POV~

I. Feel. Like. Shit.

A few hours ago I had thrown up all over the comfy blankets that had now been replaced by fresher newer ones. Now, Ink wouldn't let me out of bed. It was just the flu... I could walk around fine. But he insisted on me laying in bed until the fever broke.

So that's where I am now, laying in bed while staring up at the ceiling. I wish I had my sketchbook... but I think I forgot it. Which is probably a good thing since it's pages contained some rather risque drawings of Ink with no shirt on... I make myself sick.

I felt an uneasy feeling in my stomach at the word 'sick'. I hadn't thrown up again but I did feel a lingering queasiness in the base of my stomach. I have no clue what caused me to get sick, as I was usually surrounded by skeletons who literally couldn't get the flu.

I coughed a bit violently and reached to the bedside table to grab my glass of water that Ink graciously kept on fetching for me every half an hour. It felt cold and refreshing going down my sore hot throat.

I set the glass back down and fiddled with my thumbs for a little while, trying to think of something to do. I sighed deeply and looked around for the 50th time, trying to find anything to distract myself with. Once again, there was nothing.

I huffed and laid back down a little too quickly, I had to repress the urge to regurgitate all across the blankets again. At least I wasn't in pain anymore. That medicine had worked like a charm in less than 15 minutes like Ink predicted.

For the past hour I have had a rather frustrating predicament with my temperature. Every time I pulled the blankets up I started to sweat and I felt heat rise to increase my fever, but when I pushed the blankets off I got several goosebumps going all around my body. So I opted to have the blankets half way up my body, but that just made my lower half very hot and my upper half very cold.

I huffed once again as I felt my uncomfortableness start to annoy me even more. I tried to sleep but I just couldn't no matter how hard I tried.

The door creaked open and the familiar face of Ink greeted me concerned but still bright.

"You feeling alright?" He asked while opening the door even more to reveal the rest of his body. He wasn't wearing his usual complex outfit but rather comfortable looking colorful pajamas.

"Yes, other than being bored out of my mind." I complained while sitting up and crossing my arms.

"Can I bring you anything?" He questioned while sitting down beside my hips.

"A sketchbook?" I answered a bit sheepishly. I had an urge to draw him again...

"Of course!" He disappeared in mid air and in less than minute he was back with a thick book and pencil. He handed them both to me and smiled brightly.

"Anything else?"

I bit my lip instinctively while I thought, I felt like a burden already so I shook my head.

"What are you guys doing down there?" I inquired curiously, I thought I had the right to ask that at least. If I weren't sick I would be down there anyway...

"Not much, mainly just discussing what we think Nightmare is up to. None of us really know though, just theories and speculation at this point." He shrugged while resting a hand on my outer thigh and rubbing circles into it without realizing.

Suddenly, the door was burst wide open and a bright blue and dreamy yellow-clad skeletons walked in while carrying a tray with a bowl and 2 plates. One was a stack of several tacos and the other had a more appropriate meal for a sick person.