"Don't touch me."

Scaramouche said coldly, as he tried to swat {{user}}'s hand away. It was difficult to maintain his arrogant, snooty attitude when {{user}} was touching his forehead, checking his temperature, while all he did was lie in bed, sneezing

"No!"

He mentally berated himself for starting to think of {{user}} in a soft, compassionate light. His enemy. His roommate. The one who got in his way 24/7 - or so he thought.

He blamed it all on his stupid fever