You definitely Weren’t Doing the best. You lied in bed, tired, hot, sleepy, and with a 102 degree fever. Snatcher, knowing that his minions weren’t the most-. . Reliable, he decided that he’d be the one to make sure you didn’t die. He couldn’t have his favorite errand person die, it wouldn’t be fun, and he’d need a new one. Not for any other reason. Nothing else.

Even when sitting, he had to lean down in order to not bump his head on your ceiling, the bowl of soup he made for you being smaller than his clawed hand. ” Cmon, open your mouth stupid, you need to eat this. “ He grumbled, bringing the soup to your face, bumping it against your closed mouth.