Dull throbbing, punctuated by the occasional, wince-inducing, stab of pain. You groan, which is hard to do when you have your fingers wedged into your mouth. You are currently sitting in the kitchen, perched on one of the tall chairs around the breakfast bar, elbows propped on the counter. Sunlight streams into the room, and distantly you think you can hear birds chirping.
Not only as you feeling distinctly grumpy today, but you're really hungry, also, but you haven't had anything to eat yet, and you're getting hungry enough that the first twinges of stomach pangs are beginning to stir in your belly.
Why haven't you eaten?
You have a toothache. This might not sound like a big deal, but at this moment, the pain is literally all you can focus on. It started last night, but you're having trouble thinking of what exactly could have triggered it off, mainly because each time a concrete idea begins to form in your mind, you're distracted by another pang. You’re tempted to just get the ice cube tray out of the freezer and just cram them all into your mouth, but then you’d just dribble ice water all over the damn place.
You grunt and barely glance up as your roommate, Sadiq, comes waltzing into the kitchen via the back door, looking chirpy, probably after working out or something manly. It’s unusual for you to barely pay him any attention, actually. He looks especially nice today, in a tank-top that shows of his muscular arms and sets off his skin tone. Okay, so you might have a bit of a crush on him, but really, if he insists on parading around in skimpy shirts or topless, what does he expect to happen? You're not blind.
"What's up with you?" Sadiq asks, the pinnacle of tact as he pours himself some soda. It is a valid question, though, considering you're currently sitting in the kitchen, in your pajamas, with your finger jammed into your mouth and looking really miserable. (Punctuated, of course, with the occasional miserable wince.)
You sigh as another jolt of pain runs from the center of your tooth.
He glanced over at you, a slight expression of concern marring his features as he sits across from you. Grumbling as audibly as you can, you remove your finger for a moment to give him a baleful stare.
"Toothache," you say, more clearly, before returning to poke at the troublesome thing.
“Toothache, huh?” Sadiq repeats, somewhat redundantly, leaning back and scratching at his tousled hair. “For how long?”
“Coupla daysh,” You mumble, speech somewhat garbled owed to the fact you’re speaking around part of your hand, “Got worsh tofay.”
Turkey takes a sip of his cherry soda, obviously puzzling over why you’ve suddenly acquired this ache out of nowhere. You can’t help but be slightly touched by this- he might be a bit noisy and, on occasion, arrogant, but he’s actually a nice guy. And he makes kickass desserts- you tend to handle your own dinner, but he’ll often randomly make some of those to-die-for, sugar-crammed Turkish desserts. And although it’s not like he can just magically get rid of the pain for you, it’s nice he gives a damn, considering you’re just his roommate...
“Yeah?” he asks, blinking.
“Wha’d we hah fo desshert yeshterday?”
"Ah, we had ashure!" Turkey says, grinning a little now, obviously proud of his supreme dessert-making skills. He does look nice when he grins, you have to admit. Wait, no! Stop that!
You clear your throat, getting back to the matter at hand and trying to ignore your squealing hormones.
"N be'ore 'at?"
He seems to be getting used to your garbled speech patterns now, because the next answer comes promptly.
"'N be’ore 'at?"
You’re beginning to see a pattern emerging. You pull your hand out of your mouth, and now your finger is all coated in drool. Lovely. You put that hand in your lap.
“This is all your fault,” You state, calmly.
He almost spits out his drink.
“Huh? What are you talkin’ about?”
You point at him.
“You keep making me all these sweet, amazing desserts, and I’ve been eating so many of them that now, my tooth feels like I’ve stabbed repeatedly with a knife. A pointy knife!”
Sadiq looks confused by your little outburst (and why you felt the need to specify the knife was, indeed, pointy. That’s kind of the purpose of having knives.) but he suddenly stands up, dramatically. You raise your eyebrows, wondering if he’s going to get all huffy about the accusation, but the next moment, you hear him open a door and take something out of the freezer.
He presses a cold compress to your cheek. At first, it's a little bit awkward, what with him being all up in your grill and you're still in your pjs, but to your surprise, it does actually help quite a bit. You finally smile a little for the first time since you woke up, and Sadiq smiles as well, before he suddenly seems to recall how close you two are. He blushes and glances away, not really looking at anything in particular. Hold on, he’s blushing? Score!
“You don’t have to eat my desserts to be nice or whatever, y’know,” He mumbles, and you almost want to snort, but then he might remove the compress. Also, his hand is brushing your face. Why would you pass up an opportunity like that?
You smirk and lean forwards. How can you resist? The opportunity to tease is just too much fun to resist.
"Can't help it if you can make some awesome sweet stuff."
You laugh when he turns almost as red at the cherry soda.