Chapter Text
Gilbert coughed, unable to hold it much longer, and wished nobody was around to hear him.
He felt weak, cold, dizzy, yet he managed to stumble upstairs and through the hallways. He didn't want to be caught, and hopefully everyone was already sleeping.
The blond grabbed the doorknob, muffling the baby kittens' crying with his hands so as not to wake up his new roommate.
Closing the door slowly, tiptoeing over the wooden floor, Gilbert reached the desk and looked for his phone. He left the creatures close to a turned off lamp—still warm—and quickly tapped his query.
what to do with a newborn cat
Serge woke up to the sound of coughing and something like a soft crying.
“Who's there?” The brunet sat on the bed, his eyes adjusting to the darkness after rubbing them.
There was no response.
He rose from his bed, trying to look around, and something grabbed his ankle.
“WAAH—!!” He yelled in panic, almost falling to the floor.
In the middle of the darkness, with the moonlight and outer illumination coming in through the window and curtains, Serge could distinguish a wavy blond mane.
A hand gripped to his pajama pants, then he climbed him and suddenly a boy was leaning dangerously closer to him.
He was cold, wet, and his piercing green eyes froze Serge’s blood inside his veins.
Terrified, the boy pushed him away, but the sound of coughing and something quite similar to choking alerted him.
“A-Are you okay?!” Kneeling in front of the collapsing boy, he grabbed him by the shoulders. “Hey! Answer me!”
But all he heard was a sibilant sound he knew all too well.
Ignoring the screeching and the initial fear, the new boy stood up and opened the door. He had to get some help as soon as possible!
“Carl!” In the express tour he had earlier, he saw where the Monitor’s room was, and he slammed his fists against it. “Carl!!”
There was no response.
“Carl!”
“Shut up!” A boy shouted from the next door, “Carl is not here! He sleeps in his flat, in the city, if you have some problem go get the headmaster!”
And with that, the boy shut his door and Serge was left alone, terrified, and wondering what to do. Where was the principal? Someone who could help? Maybe the infirmary…
As Serge turned his back, thinking what to do next, a pair of glasses greeted him and the poor boy gasped in fear.
“Calm down,” a boy holding a first aid kit said gently, “it's Gilbert, isn't it? I'll take a look at him.”
Who was this boy? Serge was speechless.
“He's having an asthma attack,” adjusting his glasses, the boy looked at Gilbert’s shallow breathings, he helped the blond sit straight, shaking a rescue puffer before placing it between the boy's lips. “Here.”
Puff.
Serge watched Gilbert's chest rising slowly.
One, two, three…
Gilbert coughed and Serge could finally breathe again.
And they heard the screeching.