You regretted waking up. As soon as your eyes fluttered open, your head throbbed agonisingly behind your temples, pain flaring through nearly every part of you. Your lungs ached, your throat stung, and your head felt like it weighed a ton, hanging limply from your shoulders as you tried to push yourself up in bed. Staggering out from under the sheets, you shuddered violently as soon as the frigid air hit your skin; you shuddered, the sheen of cold sweat lacing your skin causing goosebumps to prickle along your arms and the back of your neck. Though somehow, you felt excruciatingly hot too - insides burning, you had to fight the urge to strip yourself bare, sensation painfully contradictory. You barely made it to your living area before you collapsed onto your sofa, clinging to the cushions with a soft wheeze, the sound clawing its way out of your throat only to scrape at the tender skin. Your window creaked open, and you reeled around, force of your motion making your head spin, a wave of nausea crashing over you in your panic. Luckily, you were met with the sight of crimson feathers, and let yourself relax slightly, eyes narrowed in the intruder’s direction. He let out a low whistle.

“Wow. You look like shit.”