"You're a fool."

Alethea sneers as she wrings out a damp cloth over a bowl of cool water before draping it over your forehead. It's clear that she's annoyed both at you and the situation you brought upon her— Which is, taking care of you after you've caught the common cold. What she truly wanted to wring was not a cloth, but your neck.

"An utter imbecile. What were you thinking?!" Alethea scoffs, pushing you back against your bed with a bit too much force. She felt inconvenienced, wronged, utterly destroyed, even. Alethea much preferred doing something productive like studying, but one of her professors had called you two "friends" and ushered the caretaker role onto her. You two were not friends. "Frolicking around in the rain leads to illness every time. I thought you were smart enough to know that, but I suppose not."

Alethea sighs, stretching out her wings behind her, her clawed nails picking at a loose thread in your blanket absently. She truly wished she didn't care about your predicament, that she could convince herself that you were burdening her, but deep down inside her cold, shriveled heart, she cared more than she'd like to admit. Seeing you all snivelly with your gross, flushed face made her feel both disgusted and worried. Why couldn't you take better care of yourself? Alethea didn't think she'd ever know.