Protective Andrés
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“Jin, you’re hot” Andrés spoke up, visibly wincing at the temperature of her forehead, and the tallers head had just dropped down once he removed his hand, as if she had been leaning on it.
“Mmmm, you can’t jus’ say that t’ people” Jin slurs out, and oh dear Creators she was definitely not okay. No, not in the her being sick way. It was just- her lack of sleep was just catching up to her, okay? She was not- she was just not sick. Jin was not sick.
“What- Jin, no- that’s not-” Andrés just says, cutting himself of a couple of times, clearly caught off guard by what Jin had said. But then again, she was pretty sick, and she had probably not realized what she was saying. And with a sigh, the brunette continues “You are sick, Jin”.
“No, m’not” Because Jin was right, she is not sick. Nope! Not at all.
“Jin” Andrés had just scolded her, and that was probably the last thing that she had actually progressed in her mind.
Or; Jin is sick, and she’s in denial about it.
[based on the fic, enderbomb, changed and updated to the oc names]
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Summary
Freies Feld.
Andres schneidet Stöcke im Gebüsch.Andres (verärgert). Verrückt wird er, Woyzeck, verrückt. Ob ich sie höre fragt er, nichts als Stille! Ob ich sie höre. Was is’ das Geld von Nutzen, wenn der Arme dran kaputt geht. Freimaurer, sagt er, unter der Erde. Freimaurer! Pah! Das muss ein Ende find’. Hat er nit verdient, s’ hat er nit verdient.
Oder: Andres bemerkt, dass mit Woyzeck etwas nicht stimmt und nimmt die Sache selbst in die Hand.