RP Log: Rosalie and Braith
Who: Rosalie Diserafino and Braith Selwyn
Where: St. Mungo's!
When: Sunday evening
What: Braith comes by with some books while Rosalie works really hard at keeping her eyes open.



This illness was becoming more vexing with each passing hour.

Rosalie had been in bed for a full two days now. Not only that, but she'd spent the past twenty-four hours in St. Mungo's, and she still wasn't feeling a bit better than she was when she came in. Truth be told, Rosalie thought she might be getting worse. The entire concept of time was getting fuzzy, for one thing. For another, she was quite certain that she had seen people and things in her room that were simply not there. It was possible that Joy had informed their mother of her illness, after all - but her mother would definitely not have been calmly patting her head and bringing her water and telling her everything was going to be all right. If Mum was being that adult and maternal, it could only mean Rosalie was hallucinating. That was a highly unpleasant thought.

She knew Nathaniel had been there, though. And she was pretty certain Joy had been as well, because Joy was acting very much like herself. She didn't get on well with Nathaniel, unfortunately. That was a shame - Rosalie had hoped they would like each other. She was so fond of both of them, after all.

There was nothing to do about any of that, though, or the fact that she was missing so much work. She would simply have to tough this out, and put it all back together when she returned, Rosalie told herself. It was just hard to be tough when half the time she didn't know where she was, when she was, or what on earth was going on, and the other half the time she was busy concentrating on how much every bit of her hurt.

Braith had heard about the series of illnesses, but someone's name had stuck out -- Rosalie, the sweet woman from the bookstore that he'd had coffee with and who seemed to have a similar disposition to himself. Since he had found some sort of kindred spirit in her he'd felt obligated to go and check on her, which was the reason for him being at the door of her room at the moment. He lifted his hand and knocked once before he stepped inside, peering around.

"Rosalie?" 'Rosie' seemed too informal for someone that he'd only met once, after all. He grinned, smoothing his hand through his hair and trying not to look too sinister despite the fact that he was wearing hospital garb. No need to scare the poor woman into thinking that she wasn't going to get out of this, after all (although some part of him did had to admit that she did not look well at all).

"Hello?" It took her a moment, but Rosalie eventually figured out that the voice came from the space by the door. Her first thought was that Nathaniel must be back...but no, that wasn't Nathaniel. It was...oh! Braith! The nice fellow from the bookstore. But was he actually there?

Rosalie eyed him carefully, finding that he appeared solid enough. That was no guarantee, though. "This is going to sound like a very stupid question," she said weakly, "But are you real?"

He laughed, dropping the book down onto the stand next to the bed. It made a solid enough 'thump' that he hoped it answered her question about whether he was real or not - Merlin, she really was a bit off if she was asking him that. "Well, I should hope so. If they're letting figments who look like me purchase books, who knows what sort of a hidden bill I'm racking up."

Bad, bad joke -- but it was better than commenting on how she looked, he supposed. "How're you feeling?"

Rosalie laughed, a small and rather pitiful sound at the moment. The joke was much preferred to him commenting that she was pale as a ghost, she had dark smudges under her eyes, and her hair was a mess. All of that would have been quite true, but Rosalie really didn't want to hear about it.

"I'm rather miserable, to tell the truth," she admitted, giving a sad little half smile. Ordinarily, Rosalie would have downplayed her condition and tried to find something else to talk about. This time, she was sufficiently out of sorts to take a moment to complain a little for once. "Fever, aches, dehydration, and I keep going unconscious, and now and then I'm seeing people who aren't there."

And if she was anything like him, she really did have to be sick to be admitting that she didn't feel well. He nodded sympathetically, arching a brow. "I thought about bringing you your paperwork, but since you're seeing things that aren't there ... probably for the best that I decided against it, huh?"

Braith immediately felt like an arse for saying that he'd thought about bringing her work considering the condition she was in, but if he had been the one to get ill he would have at least wanted to know whether he was going to be horribly behind on his obligations when he got out of the healer's ward. Of course, he'd probably just panicked her about missing work, but he'd never been particularly good with women when put on the spot.

"Oh Merlin, I wish I could have my work here," Rosalie wistfully replied. "I asked Joy to bring it earlier, but she informed me I was to be resting and recuperating, not working. I was going to fight her on it, until the Healer pointed out that in my current condition I'd probably just do it all wrong and have to redo it later."

The conversation was tiring her out already. Rosalie couldn't believe how much energy being sick sapped from her. It made her say silly things, too - it was just occurring to her that she'd just gone on complaining about her illness. Next thing, she'd be saying something stupid like

"It's good to see you again," Rosalie said, though her eyes were closed again. "I was hoping that I would."

All right, Braith couldn't stop the vaguely stupid grin that appeared on his face when she told him she was glad to see him again. It wasn't exactly a sentiment he got all that often considering the limited amount of socializing he did with people outside of his rather unsavory circle, after all. "You too," he replied easily enough, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to be too ... awkwardly bashful, "I mean, I don't want you to think I just showed up because I felt sorry for you."

He paused, "I brought you, er. A Renaissance book I thought you might like, so." So she could read it while she was delirious? Great, Braith. Very smooth.

"Ooh!" Rosalie exclaimed - well, sort of. She tried to. It was just that making her eyes open wasn't quite happening. She smiled, though, and she really did look genuinely pleased. She just also looked dead exhausted. She realized, however, that she wouldn't be able to see the title of the book if she didn't open her eyes.

So she tried. They fluttered open just a second, but they were so heavy. And she was starting to get cold again. Was the window open? Rosalie would have sworn that a cold draft blew through the room. "It's cold in here," she said, insensible of the non sequitur.

Blinking, Braith glanced to Rosalie and ... well, resisted the urge to wince. "Ah, well. The book's not going to go anywhere, and I can get one of the nurses to bring you a blanket if you like." Not that she wasn't already wearing one (or possibly several), but still. It would be rude to say something like 'well that probably means you're getting even sicker and I should leave as soon as possible'.

"...but uh, I wouldn't want to take up more of your time. I know I can bore people if I'm around them for more than ten minutes."

"I'm not bored, just a little confused sometimes," Rosalie apologetically replied, her voice weakening again. She still hadn't succeeded in opening her eyes, though she very much wanted to. "If I don't die here, I'd like to spend time with you again. Because you aren't boring. You're very nice."

She shivered, sinking a little more into her blankets. That felt a little better. Just one more blanket would do it, maybe. Or a little heater. But with the cold coming from the inside, maybe not.

Well that was always a good sign, he thought. She wanted to spend time with him when she wasn't delirious? He nodded, "Then I'll definitely call you. It'll be a date." He paused, "Well, not a ..." She probably wouldn't remember this, right? That was good -- she could forget about him being an idiot.

But really, how long had it been since he'd had an actual date? "When you're feeling better we'll have to go out for coffee again," he amended with a faint smile.

She echoed his smile with one of her own. She likely wouldn't remember it later, but for right then, it held back the cold a little. "I like coffee," Rosalie murmured. She was drifting into unconsciousness against her own will, stubbornly trying to maintain her conversation.

There was no fighting the fever any longer, though. It had sapped her strength too much for her to persist. Whether she liked it or not, Rosalie Diserafino was going right back to sleep.

There would be no reason for him to stay and watch her sleep - in fact, that probably borderlined on creepy. Instead, he opted to jot down a reminder note onto a scrap of parchment and tucked it into the book he'd brought for her before sliding out of the room.

Merlin, she really did look bad - hopefully she got better. It would be just his luck to start shadowing a fancy and then having her die on him.