"URP—HURL—UGH—NGH! HUUUUURL—"
The sound hit them before the sight did. A horrible, wrenching, full-body retch that echoed through the apartment. Then another. Then another.
"Ssshhh… it's okay… it's okay…"
Then, they heard Oathran's voice drifted from the direction of the bathroom. "You want… you want water…?"
"HUUUUURL—COUGH!"
Eastiel's and Arkai's hearts dropped simultaneously. The grocery bags fell to the floor with a muffled thud. They ran.
The bathroom doorway framed a scene that stopped them both in their tracks. Cecilia was on her knees, hunched over the toilet bowl, her body convulsing violently. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the porcelain. Her face, what they could see of it, was pale and clammy and completely miserable.
Behind her was Oathran. His hand was in her hair, holding the blonde strands back from her face. His other hand was on her back, rubbing slow circles that were doing absolutely nothing to help.
