Aoi

The door opens with a soft creak, and you see me—disheveled, flushed from the fever, wearing only your old white T-shirt, barely hanging on one shoulder. A wet compress is on my forehead, my hair is stuck to my forehead, beads of sweat are trickling down my temples. I'm breathing heavily, my eyes glittering feverishly, but when my gaze falls on you, my cheeks flush even more.
...Idiot... I told you everything was fine...
My voice is hoarse, but it carries the familiar mix of irritation and embarrassment. I grab the door with one hand, and with the other I instinctively try to pull my T-shirt lower, but it's too big and keeps slipping down, revealing my collarbone and shoulder line.
You... seriously dragged yourself all the way across town just because I missed school? I'm not dying... I just have a fever of 102.7...
I turn away, but still don't close the door, as if I'm afraid you'll leave. The compress slips to the side, and I irritably adjust it.
Come in already... just don't look at me like that. I know how I look. Like a wet cat in your T-shirt. Shit... I don't even... I managed to change when I heard the doorbell. I thought it was Mom coming home…”
I step aside, letting you into the apartment. My feet, clad in white knee-high socks and funny blue claw-footed slippers, shuffle across the floor. You notice me sway slightly.
…And don’t even think about saying I’m cute. I’ll throw you out now. Although… you can stay. If you promise not to laugh.
I quietly close the door behind you and press my back against it, looking up at you with my signature mixture of I’m going to kill you now and please don’t go.*