FERVENT {ZaDr} [DISCONT. READ DESC]

-CHAPTER TWO-

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Dib stood mortified at the entrance to Zim's room, amber eyes wide and pale cheeks now a flushed, cherry red.

The Irken named Zim lay on his back atop a massive dark-magenta-and-pink throne-like chair, his head and legs limply dangling off the sides, mouth parted.

He wasn't wearing his tunic, nor his boots. He looked... Strange, without them. Not in a bad way, though.

The same husky, gravelly moans that Dib had heard earlier had been coming from Zim the whole time. But... Why?

GIR was standing beside his master, various stacks of books below him allowing the tiny robot-doggy to share the chair's height.

"You gonna be ok, master..." he whined softly, frowning. Using his small black nubs, the disguised S.I.R unit slowly caressed the Irken's temple. "I-I can make you waffles... A-an hot-dogs!"

Dib felt a pang of sympathy for GIR.
It made his heart ache. Even though that little robot had to be the literal embodiment of obnoxious, he truly did love and care for his master.

Zim shut a single ruby eye at the contact, his soft raspy moans hitching a few times. "Ngh... N-no, GIR. Zim will...-" —he paused for a moment— "...will be f-fffffine." He hissed the last sentence as if he struggled to say it.

GIR let out a soft whine, gingerly helping his master sit up and drink up the cyan medicine.

The Irken's stubby nose scrunched up in a distasteful sneer, pulling away; his segmented tongue flicking over his lips repeatedly as a dog would after eating peanut butter.

The green dog let out a loud whimper, shoving the flask in his master's face, shaking it side to side. After a few seconds of staring silence, Zim turned his head away letting out an soft snarl. "GIR, how am I supposed to drink that if you keep shaking it around like you have brain sickness?" He spat, irritation clear in his voice.

GIR let out a long, gradually loudening whine, continuing to shake the medicine in his master's face for him to drink. And eventually.. spilling it all over him.

Zim shot up from his throne, letting out a growl of irritation. "GIIIIIIR!" He screeched, Dib holding his mouth to muffle his snickers of amusement.

GIR's eyes widened, a giant grin forming across his stitched visage after a few silent moments. He let out a quick giggle. "You're all wet!"

The Irken shot his robot a glare, his antennae perked up. "I know that, GIR." He snarled, brushing off his saturated green skin with his hands. "And it's all because of y—"

"You're soaking!" The dog exclaimed, raising his black nubs in praise.

Zim didn't reply, simply continuing to glare at the idiot SIR unit. He eventually tilt his head down, facepalming himself and slowly shaking his head side to side. "GIR, please. Go... Fetch me another potion, or something. Make yourself useful."

His miniature servant obeyed, screeching out an overly loud "OKAAAY!" before snatching up the spilled flask, skipping away and horribly singing Irk knows what.

Dib continued to stand at the mouth of the cave-like structure, anxiously twiddling with his fingers. He didn't know what he should do, knowing that the Irken was already well irritated.