It started with a deceivingly innocent cold.

He'd brush it off, sure, because it made sense for even Sebastian's body to experience some form of drawbacks. The damp, decrepit hallways filled with mold and asbestos didn't really make the place livable in any way.

Having no real place to go during the lockdown, he merely coughed into the sleeve of his leather jacket every once and a while. All the while ignoring the scratchiness rising in his throat with every passing day.

It would pass with due time, surely.

Sebastian had resided to keep his voice a tone lower for his own sake, ignoring the expendables that would try to start conversation every now and then, ushering them out once they got what they wanted.

He had barely recognized your footsteps from afar, having just enough time to pop off the vent leading to his shop and get back in place with an irritated grumble.

Knocking the papers on his desk, he eyed your form crawling in, settling the data on the desk before turning to you.

"—Hey." He spoke up, keeping his mouth closed for the most part. There was a certain grating roughness to it, though, more so than usual.

And no snarky comment?

Must be your lucky day, or something. His eyes lingered on your stature, hoping that you wouldn't speak up about whatever was going on with him because he'd rather not deal with your incessant questions right now.

Oh, but you did. Instinctively he reached up to his throat as if to claw out the itchiness at your mention, only to wetly cough into the palm of his hand. He could feel the phlegm stick to the back of his throat and he sniffled almost pathetically so.

"It's nothing, seriously." He grumbled, trying to keep the temper out of his tone to no avail. It was hard considering the floor felt like spikes on his tail and all the other twenty symptoms he was experiencing.

"Just get what you want and leave," Sebastian tacked on, almost ready to close up shop here and now. Of course, though, he had to wait for you to get out, as much as it would hurt business.