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empresskaze · 3 months

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Because I've had this in my head for a week (and I'm trying to write more).

~~~~

Cecil set the ink pen down on his desk and quickly looked over the letter making sure he'd included all the specifics before posting it to the mail. Letter folded, envelope addressed, he was about to place his wax seal when a knock came at his door. Looking up at the clock it was far to early for Philip to be reminding him of his appointment tonight.

"Come." Cecil called as he placed the seal on the wax, assuming Philip or Molly needed his attention.

"Oh... of course, you're busy." A soft, familiar voice spoke.

Surprised, Cecil looked over as Ambrose, dressed in a night shirt and thin dressing gown, stood halfway in his door. Immediately, Cecil rose from his desk.

"Ambrose, why are you out of bed?" He asked pointedly but then relaxed, seeing Ambrose shrink back. "My apologies." Cecil softened his tone as he led the recovering man into his study. "Dr Fairchild wanted you on bedrest, remember?"

The fading light of the gas lamps still illuminated how pale Ambrose was as he sat next to Cecil on the sofa.

"That was three days ago, Hart. I've barely seen you since then." Ambrose leaned on Cecil's shoulder as a quilt was pulled over him.

"Again, my apologies, much has my attention lately. I did not mean to upset you by not visiting. Molly has kept me abreast of your health." Cecil replied as he entangled his fingers in Ambrose's loose curls.

Ambrose only hummed in return, his hand searching for Cecil's beneath the quilt.

Their peace was interrupted a bit later as a frantic knock came as Molly burst in, "Master Lockhart I..." She stopped as her eyes found the sick man. "Mr. Beaumont! There you are!" Molly's normally sweet tone held quite the frustration.

Ambrose slunk further under the safety of the covers. Cecil stifled a chuckle. "It appears you've been found."

"Apologies, sir," Molly said to Cecil, "Mr Beaumont did not inform staff he'd left his bed. I was worried he'd fainted again."

Cecil cast his eyes down at Ambrose, who was sitting up, keeping the quilt wrapped around him.

"I did not mean to cause concern, Molly. I only needed a change of venue." He stood up slowly as Molly put her arm behind his back, leading him towards the door. Cecil rose as well.

"Also, Mr. Montague should be arriving shortly. Philip is preparing the front parlor for him." Molly said as they all entered the hallway.

"Very good, I have a few issues to see before that." Cecil then looked at Ambrose. "Goodnight. Sleep well." He nodded his head then turned walking the opposite way.

Ambrose stood watching, only pivoting when he felt Molly leading him.

"I am sorry for interrupting your time with the Master." She said, "I know your time together these last weeks has been brief." She paused as Ambrose coughed into his elbow.

"It has..." Ambrose cleared his throat, "I'm sure tides will turn soon." He said, his tone full of disbelief.

"I'm sure it will." Molly replied in the same tone.

#sigh I love them #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #historical sick fic #sick fic

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empresskaze · 9 months

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This post by @selene-and-the-cold has been living rent free in my head so here's Ambrose and Cecil.

~~~~

The falling snow mixed with the ash from the train exhaust, creating an ugly grey slush. Ambrose knocked the excess off his boots as he continued to wait for the carriage. Originally, Ambrose had been worried as his train arrived late that he'd been apologizing to the driver. However, nearly half an hour later, Ambrose still sat in a small alcove waiting for Cecil's driver to fetch him. Had he misheard the time?

Ambrose pulled his cloak closer around him but the harsh winter winds cut through it like silk. Even with the fur lining, he shivered against the chill as the snow continued to fall.

Pulling out his watch, he checked the time again, glaring at the ticking hands. Other passengers passed him as people boarded or exited their trains. Each time an engine chimney blew smoke, Ambrose's handkerchief did its best to shield his poor lungs from the choking smoke but each inhale of the surrounding coal heavy air burned his chest and sent him into terrible fits.

Before long Ambrose was audibly wheezing which was never a good sign. The chill of the wind ached his lungs as well, the poor appraiser had no peace waiting for the carriage.

Another rattling cough shook his frame as fought for breath. Pulling back his handkerchief, Ambrose sighed heavily, leaning against the frigid stone of the alcove.

Had Cecil forgotten? That seemed unlikely as he'd specifically told Ambrose not to pay for a cab. Perhaps he was over reacting and the driver was delayed due to the weather. Other travelers came and went, the station master gave him looks but Ambrose ignored him. He wanted to move away from the trains, the smoke giving him fits, but he did not wish to go further into the falling snow.

An hour passed, then another. Ambrose sat shivering, unable to find anymore warmth when he recognized Cecil's driver. Shaking off the snow covering his cloak, he stood, shielding his cough as the driver helped him in the carriage.

"Apologies, Mr Beaumont, the bridge over main road was out, I had to go around." He replied bowing.

"Understood." Ambrose said settling himself in the carriage. The ride back took nearly as long, Ambrose continued to cough unable to calm his lungs. He hoped now being in the country, even in the dead of winter, the air might help him. Cecil originally had come out on business but sent for Ambrose saying he needed an appraiser.

He managed a bit of sleep which made the ride go by faster. The snow stopped as they arrived at the manor house.

"Ambrosia." Cecil stood in the doorway, a look of worry etched on his face.

"Hart." Ambrose tried to smile but bent over coughing into his handkerchief.

"Come in, it's warm inside, there's a fire going in the..."

"I...I think I should retire for the evening...if that's alright." Ambrose rasped as he leaned on Cecil.

Cecil removed Ambrose's wet cloak and ushered him up the stairs. "Of course, I'll see that the upstairs maid gets you a bed warmer and a brandy." He stopped as Ambrose bent over coughing again, Cecil could hear the rattling in the chest.

"What work do I..."

"Let's not worry about that now, you need rest." Cecil opened the door to the room assigned to Ambrose.

"Is Lord Bentley here?" Ambrose asked as he sat in the chair near the fire.

"Yes, I met with him earlier today, he's looking forward to your expertise but I will tell him you need to recover from traveling first." Cecil stood next to the chair.

"Very well..." Ambrose leaned back closing his eyes. He didn't hear Cecil leave a few minutes later.

#kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic #kinda #i just love this scenario #had to torture ambrose with it

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empresskaze · 4 months

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☕️ for Ambrose and Cecil? 😊

Hey this is only *looks at calendar* nevermind.... (sorry this is so short!)

☕️ Tea is the best medicine

~~~~

"Here." Cecil set the cup of herbal tea down on the side table next to Ambrose's bed. "Molly's special blend, as you like it."

Ambrose nodded wearily, reaching a shaky hand for it. Cecil instead placed the cup in his hand. "Thank you Hart," The sick man murmured as he sipped the warm soothing liquid. It quickly calmed his jagged throat, Ambrose let out a relieved sigh. "Please...thank Molly." He croaked.

"I will, now please save your voice." Cecil asked taking Ambrose's pale hand in his. "Dr Fairchild left specific instructions until you've recovered.

Another nod, another sip, another night he was worrying the man he cared so deeply for.

#selene the cold #kaze answers #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic #kaze writes: drabbles #god I love these two

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empresskaze · 8 months

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Sicktember day 8: Persistent fever.

Ambrose and Cecil (and happy 2 anniversary to these guys as I created them for sicktember 2021)

~~~~

Ambrose mopped his brow with a handkerchief, taking a moment to collect himself before continuing over the finances from Cecil's latest acquisition.

"300 pounds." He muttered under his breath. He hadn't accompied Cecil to this auction, having been under the weather recently. The expense manifest Cecil presented him wasn't helping the headache firmly lodged between his temples.

Resting the papers on his desk, Ambrose ran his hands through his hair before clenching the back of his neck. A bead of sweat ran down his face. Letting out long sigh, Ambrose reached for his records book to begin logging this weeks finances.

It wasn’t easy, the fever he just couldn't seem to shake made concentrating difficult, the numbers blurred and Ambrose's normally crisp writing appeared, at least to him, sloppier than normal.

The clock struck 7pm, Molly would be fetching him for dinner soon. Laying down his ink pen, Ambrose flipped the book closed then laid his head upon his desk, the loose ends of his hair covering his eyes.

"Ambrosia?" A soft voice said.

"Mmm?" Ambrose went to look up but felt a hand on his forehead, then heard Cecil hiss.

"Molly said you looked ashen." Cecil said as Ambrose sat up.

"Hart, what..." Ambrose rubbed his eyes then looked at the clock, it was past 9. Cecil put his arm out, helping him off the stool.

"I swear it was only 7pm a few moments ago." He said as they exited the study.

Cecil's arm stayed firmly wrapped around Ambrose's waist while they walked. "Your fever has not subsided?" He asked lowly.

"Afraid not." Ambrose replied keeping his gaze ahead, he felt embarrassed a simple fever still effected him days later.

"I'll have Molly fetch a water basin and some cloths." Cecil opened the door to Ambrose's room.

Ambrose undid his tie along with the collar of his shirt as he sat on the bed. "Not needed, I'm only going to rest for a bit, I didn’t accomplish as much as I'd hoped." His cheeks burned with guilt.

"Worry not, that can wait, it's late and you haven't eaten yet?" Cecil pulled the cord on the wall, signaling staff.

Ambrose finally looked up at Cecil, "Have you eaten?" He asked.

Cecil pressed his lips together but did not reply which gave Ambrose his answer. Shaking his head, Ambrose leaned back on his pillow. "Hart, if you have Molly bring food, have her bring enough for the both of us."

"Understood. Rest for now." Cecil said as he quietly left the room.

#sicktember 2023 #sicktember #sicktember day 8 #fevers #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze wo hi queue

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empresskaze · 2 years

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October Snz Prompt Day 6: Warm Fireplace

Ambrose and Cecil time.

~~~~

"Goodness Mr Beaumont, you look chilled to the bone." Molly said taking Ambrose's cloak from him.

"Winter definitely set in." Ambrose replied fighting the urge to shiver. The chill he'd caught would take a good amount of wamth to finally chase off.

Molly nodded, "The drawing room fire is going already. Or I can ask Philip to tend the one in your room...bless you, sir."

Ambrose sniffled, hoping that sneeze wasn't the beginning of something worse. "Drawing room will suffice." He swallowed, flinching slightly. "Might a request some tea."

"Of course." Molly bowed then headed down to toward the kitchen. She wasn’t even out of sight when Ambrose fished his handkerchief out, muffling another sneeze into it.

"Blimey." He sighed, running his free hand over his arm.

The warmth of the drawing room paired with Molly's tea sooned subdued his chills but Ambrose continued to sniffle, keeping his handkerchief clutched tightly in his hand as he read.

Hearing the door open, he looked up and smiled. "Hello Cecil."

Cecil returned the smile as he walked over to Ambrose, taking the chair next to him. "Warm enough? Do you need a blanket?" He asked as he rested his hand on Ambrose's arm.

"The fire is plenty." Ambrose put the book down, "Did Everheart accept your offer?"

Cecil frowned and shook his head, "No though I'm not surprised, the man swears it's worth more than he purchased it but..." He paused watching, Ambrose bring his handkerchief up again.

His breath hitched hard, Ambrose sneezed twice, letting out a low groan after.

"Bless." Cecil said quietly, noting how red Ambrose's cheeks were for a moment.

"Perhaps it's time I retire." Ambrose said with a thick sniffle, "Appears my health is taking a turn." He rose as did Cecil.

"What can I do?" Cecil asked as they walked to the door. Ambrose leaned in close, taking in Cecil's presence.

"How are you at brewing tea?" Ambrose whispered before pulling away, bringing his elbow up, covering his wet sneezing. "Oh dear, those got the better of me." His sniffling now became more prominent.

"Come." Cecil opened the door, "I had Philip prepare your room, the fire should be going and I'll make sure Molly has laundered your handkerchiefs."

Ambrose felt his face redden. "Thank you Hart."

#oh ambrose how I love to give you colds #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #snez fic #snz fic

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empresskaze · 2 years

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Ok more Cecil and Ambrose. Had this idea for awhile but also inspired by that post about someone sitting on the edge of a persons bed.

Not beta'd we die like lads and blokes

~~~

The fire crackling in the hearth brought little warmth to his shivering body. Beads of sweat that had pooled near his temples flowed down his checks, like raindrops on a window, wetting his nightshirt. Not that it wasn't already soaked from his fever.

Ambrose's glassy eyes stared unfocused at the painting hung on the wall of seaside, imagining himself sitting on the beach breathing in the clean air.

His peace interrupted as his hacking cough racked his thin frame beneath the blanket.

Three days.

Three days ago he'd arrived home drenched from the fall rain only to find Cecil had left urgently to meet with Stratford over a possible item from Louis the 14th collection. Molly had of course apologized for the Masters absence but Ambrose knew he'd not instructed her to do so.

Inhaling a jagged breath, wet from his sickness, Ambrose clutched the ends of his quilt tightly with his fingers. Had they not been so pale already, anyone could see them turning white from the grip.

Two days ago, he taken to bed with a persistent cough and chills he couldn't shake. Molly had made him some hot herbal wine to sooth him but it had done little to quell the growing illness.

Yesterday he'd woke up with a high fever, his cough firmly lodged in his lungs giving his already troubled lungs no relief. Ambrose knew how it would be at least a fortnight before the cough would truly extinguish itself from his chest, even after he recovered..

Today he lay on his side, clinging to his bed covers, assuring Molly she didn't need to call a doctor. This would pass like all the others. Burning pressure rose in Ambrose's chest as he readied his depleted handkerchief to his mouth, masking another deep wheezing cough. Breaths were few and far between as his lungs desperately tried to empty themselves. Spots danced in his vision before finally he took a breath in.

Readjusting the quilt, Ambrose pulled it up closer praying it would keep his chills as bay for a bit, enough time to get some rest. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Ambrose immediately regretted his decision. His lungs whistling in pain as he hacked unrelentingly into the sheets, the cough taking what little strength he had remaining, Ambrose felt tears welling in the corners of his dry eyes.

Finally it passed, Ambrose lay still worried even a finger twitch would be enough to summon another fit.

A soft throat clear sounded, "Mr. Beaumont, I've brought a basin of water and a fresh cloth for your head." Molly's falsetto tone broke the stillness. "Here."

Ambrose pulled at the covers which slipped from his weakened grip.

"I know, sir, but I must, you've quite the fever still." Rinsing a cloth, Molly applied one to Ambrose's chest causing him to gasp.

"No...it's cold...too cold..." Ambrose's strained voice barely uttered the words. His glazed eyes meeting Molly's face which held a smile, he could see the worry in her eyes. Ambrose convulsed with shivers, wrapping his arm as tight around himself as he could.

After what felt like hours, Molly removed the cloth, "Lay back, Mr Beaumont, please." With her hand, she gently urged Ambrose onto his back. His fever glistening face, pale with dark bags beneath his eyes, stared unfocused at the ceiling.

"Where's...Cecil?" He asked as his eyes fluttered.

"Master Lockhart has yet to return, sir." Molly said, ringing out the cloth again, placing it gently on Ambrose's forehead.

"Har..." Ambrose's breathy voice broke into another harsh cough forcing him once again into his side as he shielded it.

"Try to sit up, please sir. Probably better for you to be upright." Molly said once Ambrose regained himself. She held out her hand, waiting to see if her Master's paramour wanted assistance.

Panting, Ambrose took a moment then rose pushing himself up as best he could, Molly adjusting the pillows behind him.

"There, hopefully that will help a bit." Molly tried her best at smiling.

Ambrose only nodded before pressing a hand to his chest.

"Would you like some more ointment to help clear your lungs?"

Ambrose slowly shook his head, the only thing desired wasn't here.

"Well." Molly started as he grabbed another blanket off the chair, laying it across Ambrose's chest, "I'll fetch some more herbal tea for you for now." She said reaching into the side table drawer setting out fresh handkerchiefs. "I'll return in a bit." Bowing slightly, Molly exited the room.

Ambrose had wanted to thank her but air was precious to him at this point. His eyes fluttered once again as his trembling hand clutched a new handkerchief. The last thing he remembered hearing was the faint popping of the fire and his own whistling breath.

~~~

When he awoke again, most of the lamps had gone out, he must have slept until nightfall, one near the bed giving off a bit of light. Keeping his eyes open required more strength then he currently had. The deep pressure settled in his chest still heaved with every slow breath he could muster. Ambrose hoped this sensation would last at least until he returned to sleep.

He then felt a warm hand entangle itself with his. Ambrose barely had his eyes open as a figure on the edge of the bed came into view.

"Hart." He couldn't help the smile forming against his pale face.

Cecil returned the smile though his dark eyes were lined with that worry that never fully disappeared when he looked at Ambrose.

"Molly...informed me." Cecil said quietly shifting closer to Ambrose. "I'd..." His normally firm voice wavering. "I'd have come sooner, why didn't you send for me?" Both Cecil's hands wrapped around Ambrose's.

"Stratford...is..." Speaking ached his chest, "a good...cli..." Ambrose's breath caught within his throat, pitching him forward, the handkerchief quickly to his mouth masking his awful cough. He silently pleaded with any god this too would pass. Short pricking breaths felt like needles piercing his lungs while he fought for better air.

As his shoulders heaved, he felt Cecil's comforting embrace around his fevered body. "Cecil, please...I'm a...mess." Ambrose exhaled, leaning into Cecil's chest.

"Don't say such words." Cecil's soft voice resonated in his ear causing chills not from a fever. "I'll call for Doctor Fairchild, he must see you tonight. Then when you've recovered we'll go to the seaside, get the city out of your lungs. I promise."

Ambrose nodded, he was too exhausted to reply that Cecil's promises were normally rubbish. But the seaside did sound nice.

#i need to get better at writing period stuff #espc the dialogue #anyways heres my victorian lads again #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic #coughing #illness fic #historical sickfic #fever fic

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empresskaze · 2 years

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Sicktember Day 23 & 25 Tepid Bath & Alt Prompt Vapor Rub

Follow up to this Sicktember prompt ft Ambrose and Cecil.

It's late and this isn't beta'd.

~~~~

When Cecil suggested a bath, Ambrose imagined himself relaxing in a steaming tub, inhaling the herbs which soothed his ragged chest. Instead he was huddling in the tepid water which he swore wasn't as warm as Cecil said it was.

Cecil claimed it was because Ambrose's fever had risen but right now all he could concentrate on was not having his teeth chatter. He mournfully gazed up at Cecil who pulled out his pocket watch.

"A minute more, if you please." He didn't look down as he stuffed the watch back into his waistcoat.

Ambrose muttered under his breath, bringing his arms closer around his knees in a vain attempt to conserve any warmth.

Finally, Cecil unfolded the plush robe Molly had brought and held it with one hand while holding the other out.

Shaking, Ambrose reached out, placing his other on the tub hoping he had the strength to stand. The air chilled him worse than the water, shivering fiercely as the robe engulfed him, Cecil hiking the collar around the ends of Ambrose's wet hair.

"Molly has changed your bedding, Philip started the fire again." Cecil said in hushed tones as his hands ran over Ambrose's arms.

"Many...thanks." Ambrose rasped leaning in resting his head on Cecil's shoulder, pivoting his gaze down. Bringing up a sleeve he masked a cough into it. "I truly didn't wish...to disturb anyone..." His breath ended in another wheezing cough as he bent over, he felt Cecil steady himself as he gripped Ambrose.

"I know." Cecil whispered while he helped Ambrose right himself again, "Let's get you back to bed."

The walked silently down the hall, a few gas lamps lighting their way back to Ambrose's room. Twice he paused to shield his cough away from Cecil, who kept his arm firmly around the sick man's waist.

The fire crackled away in the bedroom now much more pleasant to sleep. Molly greeted the two.

"Fresh sheets and duvet for you, Mr. Beaumont." She smiled.

"Thank...you..." Ambrose rasped as he sat on the bed, Cecil pulling back the covers. "Please, return to your own bed now."

Molly glanced quickly at her Master, who nodded. "Yes sir." She said, "Goodnight."

Exhaling a small cough, Ambrose rolled back onto the pillow which sat to keep him upright. Looking over he went to reach for a handkerchief when his breath hitched. He managed to turn enough to muffle both sneezes into his elbow before grabbing the cloth.

Ambrose sighed as he nestled back, pulling the collar of his robe up around his neck.

"I'd hoped...the bath would relief a bit more congestion." He sniffled, rubbing his nose.

Cecil went to the bedside table, pulling open the drawer. He removed a small tin causing Ambrose to frown.

"Cecil...I do not wish to cough all night." He said twisting his handkerchief.

"I know Ambrosia but we must try to keep your lungs clear." Cecil said as he sat on the bed, his hand hovered above Ambrose's chest.

Casting a glare, Ambrose waved a hand dismissively before craning his neck up.

Dipping his fingers in, Cecil gingerly massaged the medicated balm onto Ambrose's chest and along the sides of his neck. The sensation sent shivers up Ambrose's back as his hand gripped the handkerchief tighter.

"There, just a bit to help you breathe." Cecil said removing his own handkerchief to wipe his hand.

"Thank you...Hart..." Ambrose coughed.

Cecil tried smiling but his grey eyes remained sad. "You still feel a bit warm."

Ambrose shrugged as his eyes closed, "I'll be fine."

Neither spoke and a few minutes later Cecil listened as Ambrose's haggard breathing evened out as sleep came again.

"Promise me." He whispered, taking Ambrose's thin hand cupping it to his cheek.

#sicktember #sicktember day 23 #sicktember day 25 #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic

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empresskaze · 2 years

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Sicktember day 22 Common Cold/Flu

22 days in and finally a good prompt for Ambrose. Also he and Cecil have been around for a year since I created them for last years sicktember 😊

~~~~

The blanket didn't help much. Ambrose's shivering shoulders barely kept the thin wool blanket around him, taking every few moments to hike it back up. The fire had died letting the room fall to a chilly temperature reminding him how deep into winter they were.

He'd not the strength to get out of bed to relight it nor ring for Philip. Plus it was the middle of the night and even though both Cecil and his servant had told Ambrose many times, he still hated disturbing staff during the night.

As the blanket fell again, Ambrose brought the soiled handkerchief to his mouth as he sneezed twice into it. Wet and congested, it scrapped against his raw throat causing another cough to erupt.

He'd spent the better half of the week in bed, worrying Cecil who called Dr Fairchild the moment the cold he'd brought home from Derby moved into his chest.

The good doctor didn't have much to add, he'd made sure Ambrose had medicine and told him to stay in bed, not that Ambrose had a choice. Molly had made him some balm for his chest but that only made him cough harder. Dr Fairchild said it would pass; it would too but everyone knew it how long that could take.

Ambrose's chest whined as he drew in a shaking breath. Every bit of him from his fingers clutching the handkerchief down to his toes felt the chill of the room. The duvet was soaked from his fever so it brought no relief, neither did the blanket he'd fallen asleep with.

"Hart..." Cecil's name escaped his mouth dry from coughing. How he yearned for Cecil's touch at this moment.

Ambrose's inhaled sharply again, another fury of desperate damp sneezes racking his body, pitching himself forward enough his blanket finally falling to the sides as he needed both hands on his handkerchief. Blowing his nose did nothing except remind him how badly he needed a fresh cloth.

He sniffled, rubbing his red nose hoping it woold relieve some of the tickle he'd felt for days.

Everything hurt. Every muscle tightened. Every motion felt heavier as if his limbs would made of rocks not bone. He'd barely found his breath again when a burning rose in his chest forcing it up through his throat and out in a wheezy cough. Ambrose clasped his hands over his month, eyes shut in pain, hoping not to wake the house as he hacked relentlessly. His lungs screaming as they tried expelling his sickness.

His body shook as he fought for air, tears pooling in his eyes began running down his face.

"Molly, fetch Philip."

Ambrose barely looked up before Cecil's frame came into view. His coughing fit still bent him over but a heavier, warmer blanket now surrounded his shoulders. He felt Cecil's strong hand on his back rubbing circled over it. The small sensation was enough Ambrose began to cry.

"Ambrosia..." Cecil said wrapping his arms around Ambrose who buried his head into Cecil's shirt. "Why didn't you ring for anyone?"

Words wouldn't form as Ambrose clutched Cecil's arm, the soft silk of the shirt caressing his face. He didn’t want to think about anything except being held by this man.

#sicktember #sicktember 2022 #Haven't tortured Ambrose in a while #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sicktember day 22 #sick fic #snez fic #coughing

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empresskaze · 2 years

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If noone else is going to, maybe I can keep going through that list once again? Because 15, 25 and 27 also seem to be nice set? 🥹

15. Fevers

25. Scarves

27. Reading together

~~~~

"A little while a little love

May yet be ours who have not said

The word it makes our eyes afraid

To know that each is thinking of.

Not yet the end: be our lips dumb

In smiles a little season yet:

I'll tell thee, when the end is come,

How we may..."

Cecil paused reading, placing his thumb in the crease of the book, as he felt Ambrose's shift next to him on the seat, rolling his head from the shoulder down to Cecil's chest.

"You shouldn't lay in such a position, it's not good..." His words were cut as Ambrose's raspy cough interrupted him, "Here, let me." Cecil set the book next to him, then wrapped an arm around Ambrose gently pulling him back up.

"But you are warm." Ambrose's voice cracked as he leaned back on Cecil's shoulder, his glassy eyes staring unfocused at the wall.

"If you're chilled, you should have told me." Cecil pushed to stand, his heart winced hearing Ambrose whine. "I'll be but a moment." He whispered.

Ambrose watched him leave the reading room then laid down on the soft Chesterfield. The thin blanket around his frame did not keep his shivers at bay as well as Cecil's warmth had.

He coughed again, each ragged inhale triggering an even harder one. He shouldn't be laying down but lacked any strength to right himself.

A few minutes later, he heard the door open again, Cecil footsteps closing in.

"If you wish to lay, it should be in bed." Cecil said quietly as he gently helped Ambrose back into a sitting position. Cecil then rehung the blanket over Ambrose's shivering frame and grabbed a scarf he'd brought, wrapping it carefully around the sick mans neck. "I will walk you there, I you desire."

Ambrose shook his head and patted the seat next to him. "My desire is to...remain here with you, listening to you read, an escape from my thoughts." Another wheezing cough escaping.

Frowning, Cecil sat down then pulled Ambrose closer to him, a hand cupping his face. "I think your fever has increased." Cecil swallowed hard. "Perhaps I should..."

"Read." Ambrose was nearly pleaded. "Hart, please. It's all I wish for right now." Tears welled in his red rimmed eyes. "I will sleep later, I promise. For now, indulge me." Ambrose leaned his head back on Cecil's chest, wrapping a free arm around, his fingers slowly running along with waistcoat edges.

Cecil picked up the book again, his place now lost but he'd find another sonnet that he hoped would sooth his Ambrosia.

#mimikusu #kaze answers #i keep picturing ambrose leaning on cecil as he reads #it's a nice visual #these prompts fit them perfectly #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil

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empresskaze · 2 years

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Can I suggest 11, 12 and 23 for Ambrose and Cecil? Of the autumn fall ask list? Is that how that works? 😗

11. Changing weather

12. Sunny afternoon

23. Tissues (it'll be handkerchiefs if that's okay, I have a brand XD)

~~~

It had been sunny when Ambrose originally set out for a walk. He and Cecil were staying at Lady Ashbury's estate, an old friend of Cecil's father, for a few weeks as she wanted to conduct some business ventures.

As always, Ambrose hated that Cecil always mixed pleasure with business but they were out of the city for the first time in months to which his problematic lungs thanked him.

Ambrose had explored the back gardens litterered with fountains and ponds a few times but today had wandered much farther seeing how deep they went. The ornate cut trees, exotic flowers and even a peacock roaming around captivated him each time he strolled so it came as no surprise he hadn't noticed the clouds rolling in.

Only when a brisk wind brushed past him as he exited a grove of trees did he notice the sky.

"Bollocks." He said beneath his breath, hands already running over his shirt sleeves as he hadn't worn his cloak. The air smelled of rain so Ambrose hurried back toward the house hoping to outrun whatever was coming. It wasn't until he was nearly out of breath it dawned on him how far he'd walked, he hoped Cecil wasn't worried.

If he'd even noticed Ambrose was gone.

The air grew cooler as he hurried up the main path leading back, Ambrose wasn't shivering yet but the dampess made his poor nose begin to run. Sniffling, he realized his handkerchief was in his cloak.

Sighing heavily, he stepped onto the terrace just as the first drops of rain began. A full body shiver ran through him more as reaction to what he'd just missed than the cold air.

"You should come in."

Ambrose, hands still clutched on his arms, turned to see Cecil holding the door open.

"I can see your shivers."

A blush crossed Ambrose's face as he ducked inside, "Thank you, Hart." He sniffled again and drew himself close to Cecil. "Had I been caught in that rain..." Ambrose trailed off looking at the now drenched terrace.

Cecil said nothing, only wrapped his arm around Ambrose, leading him down the hall which wasn't much warmer than outside had been.

Ambrose rubbed at his nose which continued to run. He paused as his face slacked, that familiar tickle rising up the back of his throat. One last rub did nothing as Ambrose cupped one hand over his mouth, sneezing hard. Another heavier one followed.

"Bless." Cecil whispered handing him a handkerchief.

"You're too kind." Ambrose breathed, palming it in his hand. "It's only due to...the wea..." His words cut short, this time the handkerchief caught the sneeze. "The weather, I feel fine." Ambrose hoped his words would convince Cecil as they arrived at Ambrose's room.

Cecil nodded his dark eyes fixed on Ambrose, "Warm yourself, I'll make you a brandy." He said as they entered the lavish guest room.

"I'm fine, Cecil." Ambrose retorted, pocketing the handkerchief. "Please don't fuss."

Cecil turned back to Ambrose, gently cupping his face. "It's my nature." He smiled slightly, running his thumb across Ambrose's cheek. "Your last illness..."

"I...I know." Ambrose averted his eyes, his heart beating against his chest. "This time is different, believe me, I won't fall ill." He pulled in closer.

Cecil pressed his forehead to Ambrose's. "I hope so." He whispered.

#*sighes* them #excellent prompt mimi!!!#mimikusu #kaze answers #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #kaze writes: drabbles #sneeze fic

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empresskaze · 2 years

Note

26 and 30 from the fall prompts list for Ambrose and Cecil?

26. Flushed cheeks

30. Candles

~~~~

Striking a match, Cecil quickly lit the candle on the bedside table, it would have to do as the gas lamps needed to be filled.

"A bit of light, let me look at you." His hand cupped Ambrose's chin, tipping it up.

"I'm fine, Hart." Ambrose mumbled, averting his gaze from Cecil's examine.

"Your flushed cheeks betray you, Ambrosia." Cecil said with a sigh. "Are you chilled?" He asked.

"When am I not?" Ambrose huffed pulling the blanket closer around him. "It's only a slight fever, it'll pass." He leaned back onto the pillow.

Cecil sat on bed and placed his hand on Ambrose's. "It will, yes." The candle light silently illuminating Ambrose's pale face. "You should rest." He patted the hand.

"So should you," Ambrose said finally making eye contact with Cecil. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

Cecil cleared his throat, "Yes of course." One last squeeze of Ambrose's hand he stood and headed for the door, "Goodnight Ambrosia."

#snzkinkster #kaze answers #I like that Cecil tries to hide his own problems but ambrose can see them #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #fevers

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empresskaze · 2 years

Text

I have one brain cell and it's Victorian boys. This takes place during Ambrose's long illness. So after part 1 when Cecil comes home but well before part 2 when they leave for the seaside.

~~~~

The heirloom clock chimed once signaling 1 am. Exhaling Cecil set his pen down. Resting his elbows on his writing desk, he ran his hands over his tired face then his hair. The oil in his lamp nearly had finished, the few candles placed around went out hours ago. Still so many figures to go over, acquisitions to log, miscellaneous paperwork that needed to be done; Ambrose worked numbers much better than he did. However until his appraiser recovered this now all fell on him.

Not the fanciest part of the antique business but Cecil would not trouble Ambrose with anything while his illness kept him confined to bed.

Cecil rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to relax, then pulled down his rolled sleeves clasping the cuffs at the wrist. The rest could wait until tomorrow. Now he wanted a brandy and then his bed.

Standing to adjust his waistcoat, Cecil heard what sounded like a thump against the door to his study. None of the staff were normally awake this late but on occasion Philip would "remind" Cecil of the time before heading to his quarters.

"Yes, I hear you, I'm finished." Cecil said to the door. He was in the process of filing away his papers when the click of the door opening alerted him. "Philip, I told you..." Cecil stopped the moment he turned.

It wasn't Philip who stood trembling in his doorway.

"Ambrose." The name whispered with such shock, Cecil almost thought his exhausted mind imagined it.

Ambrose, dressed in a long nightshirt but barefoot, stared ahead, a glazed confused expression on his face. He glanced around arching his head up and around the door frame. His shoulders hunched forward as Ambrose squinted once the light from Cecil's lamp his hit eyes.

"Where..." Ambrose never finished the question as he bent at the waist, a raucous, congested cough bursting from his slender frame.

That knocked Cecil from his shock at seeing the sick man, immediately running to grab Ambrose before he slumped to the floor.

"What? God in heaven, you're burning up." One hand on the back, the other pressed against against his forehead; Cecil could see sweat dripping down Ambrose's face. Pulling him up, Cecil managed to get himself under Ambrose enough to support his weight which wasn't much. But that was a worry for another time. "Ambrose, talk to me. What are you doing?"

"Mmm?" Ambrose's head rolled against Cecil's neck. "H-Hart?" He rasped.

"Yes, it's me." Cecil quickly realized Ambrose wasn't capable of assisting him even in a walk back to his room. With his arm still wrapped around Ambrose's back, he slipped the other under the legs, lifting Ambrose to his chest, cradling his body. Ambrose immediately clutched in toward Cecil.

"C-c-c-old." Ambrose's teeth chattered as shivers rocked his body.

"I know, I know, you'll be warm soon." Cecil held Ambrose close wishing he'd had a blanket or cloak ready but this was the last thing he'd expected.

The door to Ambrose's room remained opened, Cecil quickly entered getting the fevered man back in bed, tucking the heavy duvet tightly around him. Only glowing embers remained in the fire, Cecil tossed fresh logs on along with some kindling to help it catch. Poking the coals got sparks to ignite the paper, soon it would bring warmth back to the room.

Cecil returned to Ambrose's bedside. Wet curls stuck to his ashen face, Ambrose's chest rose and fell as his shaky breath crackled, Cecil worried another coughing fit would trigger but after a minute the breathing settled.

Exhaling, Cecil pinched his brow. He didn't believe Ambrose had the strength to get out of bed again but had you asked him the same question ten minutes ago he would have said the same.

A cough bubbled out of Ambrose but did not wake him, he winced letting out a whimper. Cecil slowly caressed Ambrose's cheek. "Worry not, I'll stay." Taking the cloth on the table, he rinsed it in the basin then rested it on Ambrose's forehead, the sick man grimacing from the cool water. "Shhh, you're safe." Cecil whispered, "Sleep and recover, please." His voice wavered, "Please."

#kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #kaze writes: drabbles #fever fic #historical sickfic #fevers #sick fic

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empresskaze · 2 years

Text

Follow up to the Ambrose and Cecil drabble from the other day. Trying to flesh them out more.

~~~~

The roll of the distant waves mixed with the light sounds of birdsong relaxed Ambrose in a way he'd almost forgotten he was capable of. Two days ago he and Cecil had arrived at Cumberland Manor, an estate belonging to Cecil's family. Ambrose hadn't seen the sea since childhood, it was more beautiful than he'd remembered.

After a day of settling in, a night by the fire, and a good amount of rest; Ambrose spent a majority of today warming his pale skin with the sun and breathing fresh air. The city wasn't good for him but he also knew he'd never convince Cecil to leave it.

The terrace overlooked the sprawling garden with the water a bit further out, the sun reflecting in the ripping waves. Ambrose sat in a chair, blanket over his legs and a cane at his side. Cecil had provided it as he hadn't fully recovered his strength after his long illness. Cecil called it quite the gentlemanly accessory when he presented the cane, every well to do man owning one.

Accessory or not, Ambrose needed it as he'd barely left his bed in the past weeks. Cecil only agreed on departing once Doctor Fairchild had cleared Ambrose for travel.

The terrace door opened, Cecil stepping out dressed in his normal grey and black attire. In the time Ambrose had been living with Cecil, he's never seen a speck of color adorn him. That didn't mean Cecil didn't look as handsome as ever in his black velvet pattern waistcoat and white cuffed shirt.

"How are you feeling?" Cecil asked quietly, taking the chair next to Ambrose. He looked mournfully at the sea before turning back. "Is the clearer air helping?"

Ambrosed nodded, "A few more days, I'll be right.. as...ra...in..." Another cough rolled out of him but nothing compared to the deep wheezing ones he experienced during the worst parts of his illness. These were annoying puffs. Sometimes a worsening cough would arise leaving him breathless but those were not as frequent. Ambrose exhaled, leaning back in his chair. "I'd almost forgotten what the sun felt like." He chucked slightly then closed his eyes to bask.

"Yes of course." Cecil replied, averting his gaze again. Hands steepled together, he brought his fingers up pressing the tips against his lips.

He's not well, Cecil. You know that right?

I'm aware, Conrad. What can be done?

I know he's prone to these illnesses given his bad lungs. For now, lowering his fever and rest. The syrups still don't help his cough?

They bring little relief. You have nothing?

I will look. Cecil, his body isn't strong. One day he won't...

Thank you Doctor.

"Hart?"

Ambrose's voice broke Cecil from his thoughts. "Apologies, did you say something?" He righted himself, giving Ambrose his full attention.

Ambrose studied Cecil momentarily, setting his thin hand on Cecil's arm, "You seemed far away."

"I..." He swallowed uncomfortably, "was thinking about tonight is all." Cecil hated lying but Ambrose's health wasn't something he wished to discuss currently. The crease lines in Ambrose's brow along with withdrawing his hand didn't surprise Cecil but it still stung.

"I see." Ambrose's normally gentle tone took on a bitterness Cecil only heard on occasion.

"You're always welcome to join." Cecil said optimistically but knew the reaction he'd receive.

Ambrose scoffed, causing a weak cough. "Yes, how I'd love to partake in the side glances and snide comments uttered under breath but loud enough to catch my ears. To watch another determined mother approach you on courting her unmarried son or daughter, or worse the ones like Countess LeBeau who are so openly bold to their desires in public when her husband hasn't even been dead a year." Ambrose gripped the handle of his cane tightly. "No, I do not wish to join."

"This is strictly business, Ambrosia pl..."

"Don't." The word was soft yet Cecil felt the anger behind it.

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence until Ambrose's cough interrupted it. "I'll take my leave now." He rose, using the cane instead of the arm Cecil had offered. "Give your guests my best and remember which of them smirk when hearing my name." He began down the hallway leaving Cecil standing in the terrace archway.

Ambrose barely made it to the stairs before the tears began to flow. Cecil had waited until they were unpacked and settled before telling Ambrose of the arrangement. He'd be having some guests over to discuss recent acquisitions, prices and general business. This time of the year many of the upper class were on holiday so the manor near the coast offered a lovely setting.

Ambrose felt betrayed but truthfilly he should have expected there to have been more to the trip than just his wellbeing. They'd argued. Ambrose, upset that Cecil hadn't been upfront with him paired with his incapability to leave work alone, gave him plenty of ammunition. Cecil only said it was for one evening, the rest of the time would be theirs but Ambrose didn't believe him.

Cecil always put work before everything. Even him.

Finally to his room, Ambrose wiped his eyes with a handkerchief before entering. Although he'd managed to keep most of his emotions at bay, his chest ached from holding it in. Sitting on the bed, Ambrose laid the cane next to him, then folded his hands in his lap.

Why does it even matter? Why hide it?

Because it wouldn't make a difference, polite society dictates that...

Bullocks on polite society Cecil! Just because I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth doesn't mean I get to be ignored!

Ambrose massaged his forehead, shoulders heaving slightly from a cough. A wave of exhaustion enveloped him forcing him down onto the plush duvet. Another cough escaped as he found his way beneath the covers.

His restless thoughts did not lessen, so when a knock came on his door a few hours later, Ambrose paused to collect himself before calling for whoever it was to enter. He knew it wasn't Cecil, he never knocked.

A servant girl Ambrose had seen a few times wheeled in a tray. "Good evening, sir. Master Lockhart wanted to make sure your dinner was served promptly." She removed the silver top. "Would you like me to..."

"No," Ambrose waved her off. "I'll eat right here, no need to set the table place."

"Yes sir. Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, thank you." Ambrose sighed looking down at the plate of food. He wasn't hungry, but keeping his strength up was important. After the servant left, he pulled the silver plate onto the bed. Polite society could kiss his ass right now.

He could hear voices in the parlour below as he ate, Cecil's guests arriving. A shiver ran through him, Ambrose coughed, breath shaking as he masked a harder one into his handkerchief. Maybe the evening air would help clear his mind and chest.

Leaving more than half of the food on the tray, Ambrose wrapped his cloak around himself while trying to ignore the growing irritation in the back of his throat. Cane in hand, just in case, he slowly pulled open the door to the bedroom.

The sound of male voices filled the open area, Ambrose couldn't help walking to the stairway looking down to the main floor. He couldn't see Cecil but he recognized a few people from auctions, ones he'd done appraisals for.

The tickle rose, Ambrose kept the cough at bay but the pressure building could be contained for too long.

Hoping to avoid any interactions, Ambrose waited a few minutes until the men entered the main hall, where no doubtably Cecil was. He could join Cecil, he was highly regarded as one of the best appraisers however since the "arrangement" as it was referred to with Cecil began, a good majority of his upper class clientele now viewed him even lower than they had before.

As if Cecil had saved him, taking him in, making Ambrose his own personal appraiser; they categorized him a tier higher than the help. It didn't matter how good you were at something, respect was in your class not your work ethic.

No amount of swallowing lessened the pricking in his throat, Ambrose coughed a bit harder as he rounded the stairs, heading towards the back of the house where he could slip out to the garden unnoticed. His chest filled with air pressing to be let out.

"Mr Beaumont? I didn't know we'd have the pleasure of your company tonight?"

Ambrose gritted his teeth, debating on pretending he hadn't heard Lord Worthington call his name.

"Cecil didn't mention having his personal appraiser with him this evening." The words dripped like well preserved venom.

Ambrose's grip on his cane tightened as he turned to face Lord Ezekiel Cavanagh Henrick Worthington, a short balding man who still hated Ambrose for appraising an antique brooch at a fraction of what he'd paid for it. As if it was Ambrose's fault his Lordship had been taken advantage of.

"Lord Worthington, I didn't see you there behind the statue." Ambrose smiled only with teeth. "Mr Lockhart didn't tell you because..." His chest heaved slightly, "I am here for...separate reasons." That hadn't come as full as Ambrose had hoped, the mad urge to cough stealing away his voice. He cleared his throat hoping it would help but a brief cough escaped as well.

"I'm sure you are." Worthington stepped closer, "My you're looking quite pale, are you feeling well?"

Ambrose held his breath, willingly himself not to cough anymore until this vile man was out of his sight.

"I'd heard you'd taken ill for quite a long time. Such a shame you missed out of the Hastings auction. Reginald brought back a hefty fare for me." Worthington waved his hand around nonchalantly.

"I...bet..." Ambrose said letting out a string of short dry coughs. He wanted to excuse himself, make up any reason to leave but that godforsaken sensation tickling his throat paired with rising strain on his lungs, made it impossible. Another quick cough burst from him as Ambrose began to turn away.

"Gentlemen?" Cecil's crisp cool voice pulled Ambrose's attention back. "Is there a problem?" His eyes only went to Worthington who smirked.

"Of course not; I was simply greeting Mr Beaumont here." He turned on his heels, "I'll speak to you later, Lockhart."

The moment Worthington disappeared into the main hall, Ambrose doubled over, hacking into his cloak sleeve. The fit lasted almost a full minute, every breath he took, more coughing triggered. He felt Cecil at his side, supporting him.

Finally he righted himself, pulling away from Cecil, "I'm fine." He said weakly, wiping a stray tear.

"You most certainly are not." Cecil once again stepped close to Ambrose.

"Not now Cecil, please." Ambrose sighed, "I need some air..." Slowly he started for the gardens, praying it wasn't too cold outside.

Cecil followed this time keeping his distance. He opened the door to a small side area away from where any guests might be viewing the seaside from but still held a beautiful view. After Ambrose sat down, Cecil knelt down beside him.

"I...I'm sorry that happened." He said lowly, placing his hand on Ambrose's arm. "I saw him exit, I thought he was heading to the smoking room, I didn't..."

"Stop please." Ambrose sighed, "He's a sewer rat, let's not discuss him...anymore..." He brought his handkerchief to his mouth, thankfully this fit wasn't as taxing.

"Of course." Cecil replied, squeezing Ambrose's arm.

Ambrose inhaled slowly, the air giving his chest a bit of relief. "Tomorrow...can we simply sit together on the terrace and you read to me?" He asked, turning to face Cecil.

Cecil smiled, leaning his forehead against Ambrose's, the heat coming off not lost on him. "As you wish, Ambrosia."

A few quiet minutes passed, Ambrose would have drifted to sleep had Cecil not cleared his throat. "I must return to my guests. You should come in as well. The sun has set, the air chilled and you're still recovering."

Cecil was good at keeping his tone even most of the time, but Ambrose heard the waver at the end.

"Very well." This time he took Cecil's arm when offered, leaning against his shoulder as they walked. "I am quite exhausted."

"Shall I escort you to your room?" Cecil asked as they stepped inside.

Ambrose shook his head, "I'll manage, you be a good host. Don't make any deals with Worthington." He added, rolling his eyes.

Cecil chuckled as they approached the stairs, "I wasn't planning on it. I shall see you at breakfast? Or will you be resting still?" He cupped his hand in Ambrose's gently rubbing his thumb over the palm.

"I'll see how I'm...feeling..." Ambrose turned away to cough again then cleared his throat. "Goodnight Hart." He rasped then headed up the stairs.

Cecil watched him enter his room but continued to stare for a few more moments before returning to his business.

#kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic #kinda #coughing fic #historical sickfic

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empresskaze · 2 years

Note

Will you do some Cecile and Ambrose for me? Only if you feel up to though!

"Sorry, I did not mean to... I'll come back later."

Yessssss Victorian boys here we go!

~~~~

"Sorry, I did not mean to... I'll come back later." Cecil's hand still gripped firmly on the bed post as Ambrose finally began to sit back up, the raucous coughing fit over. "I never meant to upset you." Cecil ignores the slight crack betraying his voice.

"Cecil...stop." Ambrose barely utters the words even though Cecil has yet to move away. "Yes, I'm...angry but now is not the time..." Slowly he leaned back against his pillow.

"Yes, right." Cecil whispers, breath held tightly as Ambrose's terrible cough racks his frame leaving him gasping for breath. "May...I sit?" His hand gripping the bed post throbs.

Ambrose's pale face slowly looks up, his eyes lined with deep bags meet Cecil's. "Of course, Hart. Always."

Letting out a relieved sigh, he sits next to the man he cares so deeply for, hoping Ambrose forgives him.

~~~~

Leave it to your imaginations on why Ambrose is upset! Thanks for the excellent prompt @mimikusu 💜💜

#mimikusu #sorry for the angst but I felt the prompt led to it #which is goooooood #kaze writes: drabbles #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil #sick fic #historical sickfic

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empresskaze · 2 years

Text

Four Christmases

Liam's Loft

"What Christmas movie do you want to watch, love?" Liam set his laptop down on Gabriel’s lap then slid himself under the covers next to the professor.

"Oh." Gabriel sniffled hard, nose covered in his handkerchief. This years Christmas cold was especially bad, one of the worst Liam had seen in their years together. "Whatever you wish, I doubt I'll..." Gabriel’s breath faltered, another deep sniffled before he found his voice, "Be much...company...thr...th..." His eyes squeezed shut, nose still buried in the cloth. Breath hitched hard once more as Gabriel pitched forward. The sneeze congested and wet, exhausted Gabriel, Liam could hear it in the heavy sigh his boyfriend let out.

Liam pulled the covers up closer around Gabriel who blew his nose again. "We'll watch until you fall asleep, anything to take your mind off your cold."

Gabriel managed a weary smile, then settled himself against Liam. "You're too...good to me my...dearest..." He turned to sneeze again happy to feel Liam’s hold around him tighen.

***

Colin's Penthouse

"Daria said she's still coming." River said looking at Colin's phone.

Colin scoffed, "She's never one to turn down food so not..." He coughed into his cluster of tissues. "So I'm not surprised." He leaned back on the couch resting an arm over his forehead. "At least I'm feeling a bit better."

River was happy Colin couldn't see his face. It wasn't that he didn't believe his roommate but how deshelved Colin looked currently, River had his doubts. At least Colin had been on enough medication to no longer to a threat to anyone, the only reason the critic wasn't in his room anymore.

Another raucous cough forced Colin to sit up, his shoulders heaving until the spasm passed. Colin let out a shaky breath leaning back.

River came over setting the phone on the table and sat next to Colin. "Need anything?"

Colin waved his hand dismissively. "New lungs?"

River stilfed a chuckle, "Can't help you there. How about cough medicine instead."

Colin nodded as another cough escaped. "I'm going to lay down before Daria comes. If she's early...don't wake me." He smirked at River then pushed himself up heading to his bedroom.

River grabbed the medicine and followed.

***

Cecil's House

Ambrose had taken up residency in the reading room, one because it had the best fire place, two it would be the first place Cecil would seek out after returning.

Molly had assured him Cecil would arrive this afternoon but the sun had set hours ago, Ambrose remained alone. That wasn't true, Molly and Philip took care of him but it wasn't the same.

The clock rang 10pm, Ambrose sighed, closed his book and set it on the table. Removing the quilt from his lap, he stood wrapping it around his shoulders. A deep wheezing cough kept him hunched over, Ambrose's thin frame shook as he covered it into his handkerchief. Righting himself, his lungs still hissed as he regained his breath.

He then felt a comforting hand against his back.

"You're late." Ambrose rasped not looking at Cecil.

"I know." Cecil's voice weighed with guilt. "I left as soon as I could."

Ambrose kept his gaze down but drew closer to Cecil whose hand moved from his back to midsection. "I missed you."

"And I you." Cecil whispered in Ambrose's ear.

***

Aiden and Barrett's Apartment

"Retty, are you sure you don't want me to stay with you?" Aiden asked for the fifth time as he shrugged on his coat.

"Darling, I'll be fine." Barrett looked up from the couch. "I have plenty to do." He motioned to the folders of work surrounding him.

Aiden frowned, "You're supposed to rest today per doctors orders."

Barrett chuckled a cough. "Since when are you a doctor?"

Aiden flipped his hair, "Doctor of style, same difference." He walked over planting a kiss on Barrett's warm cheek. "Call if you need anything."

"I will." Barrett returned the kiss.

#kaze writes: drabbles #sick fic #sneezing #coughing #fevers #snz fic #sneeze fic #kaze writes: liam and gabriel #kaze writes: river and colin #kaze writes: aiden and barrett #kaze writes: ambrose and cecil

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