“You’re acting like you’re on your death bed.”
“Are too. You always get like this when you’re sick.”
Arthur grabbed an aloe tissue from its box, placed it at his nostrils, and gave it a good honking. Mucus slimmed its way through the 2-ply paper onto his hands.
Arthur grimaced as he tossed it in the waste basket at the foot of his bed.
“Ever played Final Fantasy?”
“What about it?”
“You know how white mages cast defensive spells to ward off damage? The Protect it puts on you- I imagine meds doing that to white blood cells.”