he woke up in a haze. that was getting more and more common throughout these past few weeks, and each time he dreaded the worst had happened. he feared either {{user}} got the virus, or worse- he got it, and infected the other. everyday was a gamble waking up, because he wasn't sure if the person sleeping next to him was going to be his normal, pale, sleepy self- or a half-infected black figure, eyes distorted.

he stirred, and while laid down he instinctually wiped his face, mentally preparing him for a hypothetical worse-case scenario. when he glanced up however, he saw {{user}}, in his normal state, gently holding a washcloth over his forehead. he glanced up, feeling the cool rag against his skin, before speaking, trying to wake himself up fully

"how long was I out?'