Eliza's hand on her face pulled itself down slowly, and she felt like it was stretching her cheeks and lips far past their natural state. Everything ached, and she'd been doing so well! Her body had hurt like hell the first few days after the attack, but the potions had worked quickly, and she was just tired, really. But this past week? She felt like she couldn't move, and maybe it was being back on full-time for her internship, but Eliza had to be sure.
"I was fine until this week," she said, thinking back to Thursday, when she'd thrown up all of their Indian take out. Eliza smirked as the memory of regurgitated curry came to mind, and she put her hand to her stomach, "Thursday---and, well---" Eliza thought for a moment, "I haven't done anything different, outside of the potions, but I've been taking them for weeks now! Well---"
Eliza bit her tongue, "I didn't take them this morning, and I just---" she nodded her head, trying to silently explain that she'd just been sick. Definitely didn't need to mention it was in a broom closet. She felt her eyes well up, and she blinked up at Brianna. Holy hell, she was crying! She never cried! Not unless someone was near death!
Was she near death?!
"I've got some incurable disease, don't I?" she squeaked, hands going to her mouth. When did she ever squeak? She didn't squeak! She was squeaking!
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