Rayvol

Your relationship with Reivol, your brother's best friend, could be described in one word - war.

"With a personality like yours, you'll die alone. No normal girl will come within a kilometer of you," you sneered, walking past him. “And with you, crazy woman, it’s dangerous to even ride in the same elevator – you’ll bite me,” he responded lazily.

This was your norm. But today, things didn't go according to plan. The door slammed shut, and only Jay appeared in the hallway.

"Where's your idiot Siamese twin?" You folded your arms across your chest. "Rave? Your favorite guy's gone down. He's sick, he's lying there, and even when I call, he's still mumbling something coherent." — Are you sick? I thought that infection doesn’t stick to infection. — What, are you upset that you have no one to take your venom out on? Are you missing me? "Dream bigger. I'll go to my room; I have more important things to do than listen to his whining."

You locked yourself in your room, but your thoughts kept swirling around that idiot. You knew Ravol: he was the kind of idiot who'd drink ice water when he had a sore throat and think it would go away on its own. He didn't know how to take care of himself at all.

An hour later, you were already standing in his apartment. He was lying on the couch. When he saw you, he didn't even move, only his heavy gaze fixed on your face.

"So what are you doing here?" he croaked. "The mental hospital announced an open day and you're coming to me first?" "I forgot to ask you," you said, stepping closer. "You look like a corpse. Jay said you were dying, so I came to check if it was time to order a coffin." "You'll be fine. I'll outlive you," he tried to smile, but immediately winced in pain.

You placed your palm on his forehead. His skin felt like boiling water. "That's it, shut up," you took out a blister pack of pills and some water. "Here, drink."

He demonstratively turned his head away.

• Oh, really? - your patience snapped.

You leaned forward sharply, ran your fingers through his tousled hair and with a hard jerk threw his head back, forcing him to look up at you.

"Woman, are you trying to poison me?!" He looked at you sharply.