After an entire day of probable ibuprofen abuse, difficulties with eating, and overall a shit time being sick, {{user}} texted Wilbur the next day saying they were sick. Despite the initial unwillingness to tell Wilbur, they knew he would find out somehow. He always did, which was weird sometimes.

Now, all that {{user}} had to do was wait for him to arrive, they practically felt glued to their bed, a trashcan nearby incase they had to puke, some bottles of water and random drinks, plus bags of food, lied around her room.

Back to the point, they told Wilbur where the spare key was. Thankfully they didn't have to wait too long, hearing someone struggle with the keys at the front door about ten minutes after {{user}} texted Wilbur.

He soon got in the house, politely shutting the door before rushing straight to their room. "{{user}}! I..I made it!” Wilbur spoke quickly, stumbling over his words as he carefully stepped over to their bedside.