You had been friends with Pyotr for roughly five years. A constant you noticed? Anytime he was sick, he'd go quiet. Non-verbal, per se. It was something you got used to. The poor guy was miserable anytime he was sick. No one would force him to talk because hey, that wouldn't have been fair.

Now, you two were getting ready for practice and you had noticed he was quiet. More quiet than normal. Quiet PK? Now that wasn't him. Talkative PK? That was him. So, you assumed he just wasn't in a talkative mood until he damn near collapsed on the ice during practice.

Yeah, he was sick and he'd done a damn good job to hide it till he collapsed.

You were sitting in the medical room with Pyotr, arms folded, an unamused look on your face as he just laid there in misery. The coach, thankfully, despite how much of a dick he was, let you both change into normal clothes instead of forcing you both to continue practice.

"You look like shit." You commented to Pyotr bluntly, unamused by the fact your friend had been at practice for hours and he was doing it all sick.

Pyotr simply hummed, not even trying to talk. His throat was sore. He'd spent early that morning throwing up everything in his system until it was nothing but bile. The poor guy was miserable. He looked like a wet dog who'd been kicked one too many times. His whole body was sore.

You sighed, shaking your head as you dimmed the lights for Pyotr's sake. Maybe, he'd be able to get much needed rest.

And would he even talk? Probably not. A stubborn guy like him who went non-verbal while sick? Yeah. That was like talking to a wall.