William Twining was not the happiest future Prime Minister of Britain on Earth.
And for a good reason: he was sick.
His whole body was aching. His throat was dry and hurting while his forehead was hot and wet. With difficulties, he spread his arm to take a handkerchief on his bedside table, and he blew his nose loudly.
William tried to think. Tried being the key word. His head felt heavy, he couldn’t remember having a headache that bad before. William really hated to be sick. He always felt terrible and he couldn’t read or work, and Kevin always acted like a true mother hen when William was sick. The man was mollycoddling him for an hour now.
“Is your head hurting still, young master?” Kevin spoke to him in a soft tone, yet it seemed to William he was speaking louder.
William put a hand on his head, as if it could calm his headache. “Quiet.” William managed to croak. He then sneezed loudly.
“Bless you,” Kevin said as he handed him a handkerchief.
“Thanks.” Gratefully, he accepted the handkerchief and dabbed at his nose with it.
Feeling sorry for his young master, Kevin sat on the edge of the bed and softly stroked William’s blonde hair, offering him a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you are sick, young master, but don’t worry. You’ll be better in a few days. Please, bear with it for a little while.”
“Tch. At least, it’s fortunate this is the holidays. I would have missed classes if I felt sick while in school!” William said, almost horrified at the idea of missing school because, really, how could he expect to become England’s youngest Prime Minister if he missed classes when education was important to achieve his goals?
“You never change…,” Kevin sighed with a sort of fondly exasperation. Typical of his young master to worry about school when he was sick.
He then got up from the bed and told William: “I’ll be back, young master. I’ll make you hot milk with honey to soothe your throat.”
William nodded, he couldn’t say anything as he was caught in the middle of a coughing fit that make his throat hurt more. He sighted and landed back on the bed, burying his face on his pillow. The past hours had been difficult for him. This was more than just a cold, this was bordering a flu. Really, he should have expected this, William thought. Since two days, he woke up with a stuffy nose and a dry throat, no matter how often he would drink to hydrate his painful throat, and he felt more tired than usual. Without mentioning the frequent chills and body aches.
He was doozy on his pillow and was about to fall into a restful sleep when the sound of a pack of wild elephants running into his bedroom made him jump. Well, not really a pack of elephants. Two idiot demons who came, barging into his bedroom, exclaiming: “WILLIAM! Are you okay? We heard you were sick!!”.
The sound of his bedroom door slamming into the wall and of Sitri and Dantalion barging in the room sure didn’t help William with his headache.
They rushed at his bedside, looking worried and agitated. William might have found Sitri and Dantalion’s concern for him touching if his head didn’t hurt that much and if they didn’t deprive him from a merciful sleep.
“Do not worry William!” Dantalion said, confident. “I have what you need! Baphomet will prepare that famous medicine of his with mixed herbs and fish eyes! It’s efficient to heal any sickness!”
“Don’t be stupid!” Sitri replied. “William doesn’t need that! I know what can heal him! He needs sugar and a lot of rest!”
“That’s stupid!” Dantalion scoffed at Sitri. “Humans don’t eat sugar when they’re sick!”
“What do you know about that?!” Sitri snapped.
“Well, I have you know I was human once, and…”
William could have strangled them, if he had the strength, or yelled at them, had he had enough voice. In his state, he could do nothing but glare at them to show his unhappy state. But the two idiots were still arguing with each other about medicine. In his mind, William sighed. If there’s a God somewhere, may He hear me and help me to get rid of these two idiots!
Luckily for William, God heard his plea and help came in the persona of Kevin Cecil, who came back into the bedroom with a cup of hot milk, and he was understandably displeased to see Sitri and Dantalion perturbing his protege’s rest.
With a glimpse of Heaven’s wrath, William saw his butler – usually nice, caring, perfect butler Kevin Cecil – throwing away Sitri and Dantalion from William’s bedroom. The two demons began to curse the angel when said angel slapped the door in their face.
William could have kissed him, or hugged him, or anything to show how grateful he was.
His butler put the cup of hot milk and the bedside table and sat on the edge on his bed. He took off his glove so he could put a hand on William’s hot and wet forehead, “Your forehead is still hot.” he whispered, “I’ll have to get a cold and wet towel to cool it down.” The hand was cool and familiar on his burning skin and William smiled weakly.
He made a move to get up, but William suddenly didn’t want his butler to go. He would blame it in the fever later, but right now he didn’t want to be alone and wanted Kevin to remain a little to his side until he fell asleep. Just like before, when he was a child.
“Aah, Kevin?” he asked wearily, his voice almost broken. Maybe if he moved a hand to grab him, he –
But a familiar hand came back on his head and stroked his sweat-soaked hair. “I’m right here, young master, I’m not going anywhere!” Kevin assured him.
Kevin really was an angel sometimes, William mused, in every sense of the term.