"AH-CHOO~!"

Cobalt looked up from the tissue in his hands, grimacing at the ungodly amount of snot that he had just expelled into it. Groaning, he clutched his head and staggered into the kitchenette, where he dumped it into the bin.

A headache, a cold, aches and pains... He should have known that diving into water that cold would have consequences...

"Ugh, this is not what I need right now..." guttered the Incubus, wiping his nose.

He heard a tentative knock at the window. Swallowing the mass of phlegm forming in his throat, he wrapped his dressing gown tighter around himself and shuffled into the main room. Karazelle - already dressed in her uniform - was kneeling on the sill, wearing a concerned expression.

"You okay, sugar?" she asked, cocking her head.

He sniffled and nodded his head.

"J- Just a little cold, is all. Maybe just hang back; I don't want to give it you," he warned, gesturing for her to stay back.

The Succubus nodded understandingly.

"Yeah, I won't sugarcoat it for you; you look like shit. You should probably take the day off."

Though he really didn't want to wind up missing any days, Cobalt had to concede that he was simply in no shape or form to be teaching at the moment. To attempt to do so wouldn't be fair on his students, and besides; turning up at class looking like he did wouldn't do much for his image.

"I'll need to message your mother and ask for a supply teacher..." he murmured, reaching for his phone.

"Ooh, a substitute! I hope it's Madam Pudon! She's fun!" laughed the Succubus in his window, cracking a smile.

"Right... fun..."

"Oh come on! I love her AD classes! Didn't you?"

"Love" wasn't quite the word that described how Cobalt used to feel about his Applied Demonics classes, back when he was a student. Now, Madam Pudon was an expert in her field - she commanded mastery of the Lust demons arts that was impressive for a non-Fesserite - but her quirks of personality often made her classes unbearable for the Incubus. The woman took great delight in singling him out for various practical demonstrations, and her aversion to sensible clothing meant that he wound up spending most lessons staring at the floor, which didn't help when you were often the target of teasing from other classmates.

"R- Regardless of how I feel, you ought to get ready for classes. Just make sure everybody at least tries to get some work done, okay?" he asked, typing out a sick leave message to Mistress Viola.

Karazelle nodded and patted her chest.

"You can count on me, sugar! Hey, Jelli said she was gonna bring some candied fruits she made into class today. Want me to grab you some?"

The Glutton had a strange habit of making pastries and confectionary whenever she was stressed, which was all the time, if the rate at which she was producing them was anything to go by. He appreciated her kindness, but he was beginning to worry that she was wearing herself out.

"Of course. It would be remiss of me to refuse," sighed Cobalt, sending the message.

"Any particular flavour? Orange? Lemon? Cherry?"

"Absolutely not cherry!"

Karazelle recoiled, a little taken-aback by his sudden outburst. After a moment, however, she played it off with a laugh and gave her teacher a smile.

"Alright, then. I'll get you a selection of everything except cherry. Seeya later, sugar!" she piped, giving him a wave.

With a flap of her wings and a flick of her tail, she darted back across the support beam, ready to face the school day. Cobalt, on the other hand, just sunk further into his couch as he pondered why he suddenly felt so apprehensive about cherries.

"I don't think I've ever even had a cherry..." he murmured.

His phone vibrated, drawing his attention to the message he had just received from Mistress Viola. She had given him the day off, but was none too happy about it, if the tone of her text was anything to go by. Or maybe she didn't mind. She wrote so formally that it was hard to tell.

With a sigh, Cobalt slipped out of his dressing gown and shut the light off. His pounding head and aching joints had kept him up most of the night, denying him the sleep that his body so desperately needed. Though he reasoned that he probably wasn't going to feel very rested, he endeavoured to try anyway. Crawling into his futon, he shut his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

 

-----

 

Cobalt was far too hot, and yet he found himself shivering uncontrollably. His throat was full of phlegm, causing his chest to rattle with every gasping breath he took. The futon was soaked with sweat. His headache had intensified into a high-pitched whine that tore his head apart.

"Agh... hurts..." rasped the Incubus, wincing as he forced his eyes open.

Everything was blurred, and the light coming through the window was painful to look at. Something was moving around in his dorm room, but he couldn't make out what it was.

"Hurts..." he repeated, gritting his teeth.

He felt a cool hand brush his hair away and press against his forehead. The sensation was heavenly.

"You're burning up. This is a bad fever. Who gave it to you?" spoke a voice, though it was too echoed to identify.

Cobalt coughed, splattering phlegm all down his front. His mysterious benefactor just sighed and wiped up his mess.

"Went... diving..." the Incubus rasped, dimly reminding himself not to implicate Alison.

"Swimming at this time of year is a bad idea. Pathogens in the water, and with your weak immune system..."

"S- Sorry..."

"Don't apologise. Just rest."

He felt smooth glass press against his lower lip. Opening his mouth, he allowed cool water to be poured down his throat. It was strangely bitter, but soothing all the same.

"I know little of traditional alchemy. But this should help."

"Ah... c- carnisroot..." gurgled Cobalt.

Spending his childhood in Phrodival meant he spent a lot of time around the town's various alchemical practices. In addition, his own mother used to be a whiz with an alembic, and often mixed her own herbal remedies when her children got sick. Carnisroot was an excellent decongestant and sinus-clearer that unfortunately smelled a bit like cat's urine.

"This should help as well."

They placed a pill on the middle of his tongue before pressing the glass against his lips once more.

"Acetaminophen. Swallow."

He nodded and did as he was told. He heard what sounded like a tap running before a cool, damp cloth was laid against his forehead. The cover of the futon was pulled away and a pair of deft hands began to unbutton his nightshirt.

"W- Wait...!" he gasped reaching up.

"Shh. I need to wipe your sweat."

"A- Ah... okay..."

Gently, they began to clean his body, taking great care not to irritate the Incubus. As they worked, the world began to swim, and Cobalt slowly slipped away into a much more comfortable slumber.

 

-----

 

When Cobalt drifted back to consciousness, he heard the sound of someone bustling about the kitchen, humming tunelessly. His headache had receded into a barely-noticeable ache, and the rest of his pains had melted away altogether. He could breathe clearly, and though he still felt warm, he was no longer drowning in his own sweat.

Glancing over at his alarm clock, he saw that it was almost evening.

"H- Hello...?" Cobalt called, his voice still a little hoarse.

"You're awake? How are you feeling?" replied a voice.

"A little better... thank you."

He heard the sound of bare feet on floorboards as a tall individual stepped into his field of view.

There, dressed in little more than her dirty white coat and a cooking apron, stood Elya Yalfre, her eyes wide and piercing. She was holding a steaming bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. Cobalt's blood ran cold at the sight of her, but right as he tried to get up, he noticed a fair amount of duct tape binding his ankles together, trapping him in the futon.

"E- Elya... You're back..." the Incubus breathed, frozen in place.

Cocking her head, the Fallen placed the bowl down on the coffee table before she began to take off the apron.

"Nothing shall keep me from you, my love. Nothing at all," she stated in her eerie monotone, opening her coat.

There, marring the dark skin on her stomach, was a scar left from where she was shot. As if to compound her point, she dipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a warped lump of lead.

"A single round that pierced us both. There is a romantic edge to that, is there not?" she sighed, pocketing the bullet as she picked the bowl up again.

Hunkering down, Elya pushed both it and the spoon into Cobalt's hands. He swallowed hard and looked down at what lay within. It appeared to be some kind of warm oatmeal, lightly drizzled with honey.

"Eat," the Fallen commanded, returning to the kitchen.

Cobalt didn't like this one bit. While he had no reason to doubt her medical knowledge, the idea of her looking after him in such a vulnerable state was incredibly disturbing. But what made him feel even worse was the fact that Elya herself was likely still recovering from getting shot, and yet here she was, looking after him without even considering her own health and safety. It made his stomach cramp with guilt, and the sweet oatmeal only partially eased that pain.

The Fallen returned after a few moments, carrying a glass of water.

"Drink. You need to stay hydrated," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, her eyes never leaving him.

He just nodded and took a few sips, completely on edge. Though he discretely tried to slip the tape off his feet, it was bound far too tightly.

"I dreamt of you whilst I recovered, my love. Of our first meeting," spoke the Fallen, stretching her wings as she seated herself on the coffee table.

"You did?"

"Indeed. I remember how your touch opened my eyes to a world of unknown pleasures, and how your voice coaxed me from the cage of cold isolation that I had lived in for so long," she sighed.

Cobalt raised an eyebrow. He had a hard time remembering things from back then, but he could vaguely recall stumbling into the infirmary with a plethora of wounds that required treatment. He had no idea how he had sustained them, however. As for Elya, he could vaguely remember her being a shy and furtive girl that could barely speak above a whisper.

He couldn't remember the last time he saw her like that, with her hair so long that you couldn't even see her brilliant green eyes.

Was it his birthday...? No, it just wasn't coming to him.

"I- Is that so...?"

"Ever since then, I have committed myself to you. To follow you in your moments of glory, and carry you in your moments of weakness. In sickness and in health," Elya explained, nodding to the bowl he was eating from.

"R- Right..."

The meal passed on in relative silence, permeated only by the clinking of Cobalt's spoon and the quiet, stilted breathing of the school nurse. Occasionally, she would twitch or flinch at nothing in particular, muttering incomprehensively beneath her breath.

"Do you know what day it is?"

Cobalt blinked a few times.

"Um... Monday?"

"The fourteenth day of my cycle."

Cobalt stopped scraping at the last of his oatmeal.

"Sorry...?"

She just remained silent and stood up. Pacing over to the Incubus, the Fallen knelt down and offered her hand. Slowly, Cobalt placed his bowl down on the floor before looking up into her eyes. They were a deep, turbulent shade of violet, the kind of colour that made him feel uneasy. Though highly unsure, the Incubus slipped his hand into hers.

As quick as a flash, Elya whipped a roll of duct tape from her coat pocket and tightly wound it around his wrists. Before he could cry out, she tore another strip free and forced it over his mouth. Pushing him against the futon, she produced Immoderata and pierced it through the floor, right next to his head, discouraging him from struggling.

"For so long, my true desires have skirted the edges of my mind, dancing just out of reach. I knew I wanted you, my love, but could never fathom how badly. I wanted you close. I wanted you near. But it wouldn't be enough, would it?"

She hooked her thumbs into his nightshirt and violently ripped it open, scattering buttons all over the floor of his dorm room. Cobalt struggled and screamed, but the tape choked his cries into little more than muffled gurgling.

"I've tended to you for so long... I've treated all of your wounds and maladies... The day you left for England was the day you broke my heart..."

Running her fingers across his chest, Elya leaned down and tenderly licked the side of the Incubus' neck, prompting him to whimper.

"But then you came back. Just for a day. Dragged away from university and down to Phrodival. I know because I followed you. Discretely."

His eyes widened.

"I watched from above as they sailed walked you to the docks. I saw you cry as they slipped you into that straitjacket. I heard your mother's sobs as she accompanied you down to the Undercroft..." she whispered, nibbling on his neck.

His heart hammered faster as his breathing grew fast and shallow.

"... and after a night spent sharpening my blade, I saw you walk out again. The first Incubus ever to do so."

She shivered with delight. Cobalt could hear her heart hammering in her chest.

"That was when I began to feel that desire. That nebulous, unquenchable need that was so tantalisingly close, yet so painfully far away...

Straddling the Incubus, she began planting kisses all the way down his chest, towards his navel.

"But after brushing with death... I know now..."

Reaching the waistband of his bottoms, she giggled humourlessly and drummed her fingers along his pelvis. She looked up into his terrified eyes, her own glinting with otherworldly madness.

"The time is ripe, my love!"

She crawled up towards his face, cradling his cheeks as she tittered with glee.

"I'm ovulating right now...!"

With a triumphant cry, Elya lunged for the Incubus' pajama bottoms, practically salivating as her pupils dilated. But she never got the chance to claim her prize.

Cobalt flinched as he was suddenly subjected to the dull thunk of metal on bone. The Fallen's entire body jolted, before her wings went limp and she slumped against her captive, knocked cleanly unconscious. There, standing above her, was Karazelle, who tightly clutched one of the Incubus' frying pans in both hands.

Gasping for breath, she dropped the pan and staggered back onto the coffee table.

"F- Fuck... that was close..." she stated, wiping her forehead.

Still bound in tape, Cobalt squirmed and thrashed against his bonds, soliciting a smile from the Succubus.

"It's so kind of Elya to truss you up so nicely for me, sugar. Maybe I oughta have a little taste before I let you go, hm~?"

He whimpered as she approached. Rolling the unconscious Fallen out of the way, Karazelle reached down and sensuously ran her fingers across his terrified face...

... right before she ripped the duct tape off his mouth.

"GAH! THAT HURT!" screamed the Incubus, smacking his head off the floor as he recoiled.

"Sorry~!" cooed his student, sticking out her tongue.

Pulling Elya's dagger out of the floor, she cut the tape binding his arms and legs before unceremoniously tossing it over her shoulder.

"Seriously though, I'm glad I got here in time. Imagine how much trouble we'd be in if our nurse had to go on maternity leave!" she joked, grinning as she helped Cobalt to his feet.

"Th- That's not funny."

Karazelle stuck out her lower lip.

"I save your virginity, and this is the thanks I get?"

"S- Sorry... Thank you, though. That was... close."

"You really gotta get that window lock fixed, sugar."

"The housekeeper won't cover it, and I'm not in a position to allow repairmen up here."

"You could get Quinn to do it?"

"No."

Sighing, the Succubus shrugged and patted his shoulder.

"Probably for the best, then. I'd lose my only means of ingress, anyway. Oh, I almost forgot!"

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small plastic bag, filled to the brim with a variety of candied fruits.

"Jelli sends her wishes. She picked all the cherry ones out by hand."

Cobalt smiled.

"Thank you..." he said, feeling a little bit warmer on the inside.

"You're- wait."

Karazelle suddenly whipped around to face Elya, only to find that both her and her dagger had disappeared. A few loose grey feathers lay on the floor, while the window lay wide open. Stealth was a Fallen's field of expertise, and there were none quieter than the school nurse. She must have slipped away when Karazelle was undoing his bonds.

"Dammit. Guess she knows when to cut and run, huh sugar?" sighed Karazelle, folding her arms as she walked over to the windowsill.

Cobalt nodded slowly and took a tentative whiff of the fruits in his hand. The smelled overly sweet.

"Karazelle?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

"Mm?" she replied, shutting the window.

Shrugging, the Incubus raised the bag.

"Shall we share them?"

A small smile spread across her face, different from the lascivious grins he came to expect from her.

"Sure, why not?"