Sicktember Day 4: Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday - Fran Bow

“Hah-chu!” Fran only just managed to toss her head aside so she didn’t sneeze right at Mr. Midnight. He made for a pleasant warmth on her chest but his tail had curled, tickling her nose without warning. Back bristling at the unexpected noise, he rolled hastily away to land in a fold of the blankets.

“Good grief, Fran! That might have scared off one of my nine lives!” he gasped, kneading the bedspread in agitation.

“I-I’m sorry…” She probably should have mustered the strength to reach for a hanky but the easier option was to rub her burning nose against the sheets. “It’s already scared off the ha—hah-chu!—happy start we had planned for my next year of life. Everyone put so much work toward my party, only for me to spoil it with this cold…”

She would have put on a brave face and attended anyway if Palontras hadn’t caught her in the midst of an inopportune coughing fit. Now she wouldn’t see balloons, wouldn’t get to indulge in sweet food and drink, just crackers and chamomile that she could hardly taste through the congestion.

“It’s not your fault, my dear,” Mr. Midnight protested, curling his paws over her nearest hand. “We’re disappointed for you. You deserve to have a wonderful time! We’ll have the party another day, when you’re well enough to enjoy it to the fullest.”

Sinking deeper into her propped pillows, Fran offered a paltry attempt at a smile. “If I don’t drown in all these cups of tea Itward brings me. By the time this is over, I’ll be happy not to see another teacup for months.”

Mr. Midnight paused at that, one ear twitching. “…Perhaps I’ll ask The Great Wizard to reconsider his present for you then, however intricately carved it may be.”