Hate to love you (not official title)

Quick Question - What The Hell Is Going On

/edited/

Villains POV

The villain woke up, his side throbbing as he looked around for whatever or whoever had made that noise. His vision swayed in and out of focus on a figure on the floor, he looked harder and his sight finally cleared. His eyes landed on another pair, these ones a crystalline blue.

The hero was awa-

"Villain" the hero said, his voice quiet but dripping with venom

Well...how rude.

The villain pretended not to hear him and stood up, wincing as his side burned. A warm liquid trickled down his side.

"You are lively for someone that injured." He grumbled sleepily, shuffling to the kitchen and opening the cabinets. He swept the corners before pulling out a small bundle of food.

The hero didn't move.

The villain spread what he had grabbed out on the table. Three slices of bread, a jar of peanut butter with close to nothing in it, and a jar of jelly only enough for one sandwich. The villain grimaced, opening the cupboard again as though the contents would change. The only thing that appeared was a small spider that scuttled in the recesses of the wood.

After confirming that he had pulled out all his cupboard had to offer he spread the contents on the counter.

He took two pieces of bread and slathered the remaining peanut butter and jelly onto it. Once he had finished the poorly constructed snack he carried it to the living room.

"Eat up" the villain said, setting the sandwich down on the coffee table.

The hero didn't move.

"I said eat up" The villain said, looking at the hero with confusion "Do you not know how to eat? Look."

The villain reached over to the sandwich and picked it up, holding it to his mouth mimicking taking a bite.

"Om nom nom" He said, indicating taking a bite and chewing. He looked at the hero as though this was a perfectly understandable demonstration.

The hero didn't move.

"For the love of-"

The villain stood and walked up to the hero still holding the piece of sandwich. He knelt down so he could stare directly into the hero's blue eyes. Holding the hero's gaze the villain reached over and held the sandwich to the hero's mouth.

The hero flinched away and rose defiantly, ears red and rage flaring in his eyes.

"Listen here, you...!" The hero stopped his sentence, swaying on his feet.

The villain instinctively reached out to stop the hero's fall, stretching out a hand to catch him. Yet, the sudden weight forced the villain back. Stars danced across the villains vision as his head collided with the side of the coffee table.

"What are you doing?" the villain hissed, his head throbbing. A warm substance trickled down his neck.

The hero struggled to a sitting position, hand on his head, blinking.

The villain sighed then reached over and picked him up, setting him on the couch again. The dried blood that covered a good part of the cloth cracked and splintered like old leather. As the villain turned to walk away a hand shot out and grabbed him by his fingers.

The villain spun around, surprised, to find that the hero had grabbed him, looking him straight in the eye.

"What is it?" The villain said, trying to pull away. His eyes widened at the sheer strength and heat that came from the hero's fingers.

Heat...?

The villain leaned forwards, putting a hand to the heroes forehead. He jerked his hand back as though he had been set aflame. The hero's cheeks were flushed and drenched in sweat and his breaths were coming in ragged gasps. A Fever? Was that was a side effect his power? The villain pulled again, trying to break free of the hero's fiery grip. He managed to pull himself free this time, but looking again at the hero's face all doubts of fever faded from his mind. Yes, the hero had fire elemental, but his temperature wasn't supposed to be this high.

Rushing back to the bathroom for the third time, the villain grabbed a towel. He filled a bowl with cool water in the kitchen and returned to where he set the hero down. He found the hero sitting against the arm rest, sweating and gasping for air, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

"Lay down" The villain said quietly. Setting his hands on the shivering shoulders, he pushed the hero into a vertical position. The hero let out a sigh of relief as if the villains hands had cooled half of his body.

It wasn't exactly surprising, as the villains natural power was indeed ice. However, this proved problematic in this situation.

The hero apparently preferred the villains hands over the cool towel.

As the villain reached to place the cold towel on the hero's head he was suddenly grabbed around the wrist. The towel fell to the floor as the villain fell onto the couch. The villain jolted in surprise, staring at the hero who now had his eyes closed in the picture perfect image of sleep.

"Let me go!" The villain said, flushing as the hero hugged him closer. How could an unconscious person have so much strength?!

"Don't leave..." the hero whispered, "don't..."

The villain stopped struggling and stared at the hero in disbelief. How could he, a person who hated him so much, hold onto him with such ferocity. The villain felt himself warm as the hero's heat penetrated his cold skin. He frowned, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

Quietly, the villain wrestled himself from the hero's grasp and flopped to the floor. The wound on his side burned in agony.

The villain stood up and stared at the hero's sleeping form. Slowly, he reached out and placed the wet cloth on the hero's head. As it made contact with his skin a puff of steam flew from the cloth and made its way to the ceiling. Within a minute the cloth was devoid of water

It was going to be a long morning.

The villain spend the next couple hours trying to find a way to keep the cool water from evaporating. Eventually he came across and effective but slightly off putting solution.

Coming up at 7 in the morning the villain was losing patience. What was with this guy? The villain, frustrated, generated a small piece of ice and flicked it in the hero's direction. The Ice steamed and melted slightly but kept its shape over all.

The villain paused, thinking. Could it be that..?

Hesitantly, the villain placed his hand on the hero's forehead again. He shuddered as a spike of heat ran up his arm but held his hand in place. Immediately, the hero's temperature plummeted to a reasonable level.

Well, this is awkward.

The villain sat there in silence for hours. After a while he noticed that the hero was getting over his fever. The villain removed his hand and frowned slightly as the warmth left his body. It was kinda nice...

The villain shook his head in shock over the surprising thought and walked to his bed room.

Sitting down on the rusted bed, he stared at the pealing brown wallpaper, its edges stained with age.

What had just happened?