HIRAETH|| Bernard the Elf x Reader [DISCONTINUED]

Chapter 12 "Sick Boy"

Upon waking, I burrowed my body within the silky warm bed sheets. A carousel of thoughts shook me from my slumber. I rubbed the remainders of sleep from my eyes and gazed upwards to the plain ceiling allowing for my eyes to adjust to the lighting.

I toss the sheets previously snuggled around my feet over to the side. Shifting my body to the edge of the bed and placing my feet against the cold embrace of the floor.

After a few moments of silence, I proceeded out my room's door.

I walked down the seemingly endless corridor down to the medical bay.

"Salutations y/n!" I was greeted with a hyper Curtis brightly smiling adding a refreshment from last night's contrasting vibe.

"Good Morning to you too Curtis!" I pushed through the medical bay doors and walked alongside Curtis to my office.

"No offense or anything-I enjoy your company- but why are you following me?" I gaze down at the shorter elf.

"Oh! Well direct orders from Santa requires me to check in with you every so often, since y'know...Bernard's acting up" I nodded with furrowed brows and a pursed lip at the reminder of Bernard.

"Welp, let's start the day shall we!"

-Timeskip-

The first 6 hours of my shift as a medic surpassed as a mere breeze. No drastic injuries were reported in, just the occasional cut and scratch on the knee or elbow.

Seated idly at my desk, I found myself mindlessly doodling on random documents.

"Man, the peace and quiet sure is nice-"

"Y/N!!!!"

"G-GAhh-" I jumped and slipped off my chair from the drastic shift in my body's momentum.

"I GOT BARNABY!" A familiar elf's voice echoed to and fro on the walls of my medical ward.

What came to sight was something you'd see only once in a lifetime. Santa, my father, had Bernard, the head fucking elf, in a tight grasp suspended in the air clearly struggling at an attempt of an escape. Curtis stood next to them.

I raised both my hands and placed them on my hips and stared the three down bamboozled with a slack-jaw (mouth open in astonishment) [just in case you don't know what it means]

"What..happened?"

"Well dear daughter, we are led to believe our buddy here is sick" My father sniggered.

"Elves don't get sick!" Bernard protested finally yanking himself from the nonfluctuating strength of my father.

My body began to quiver from the mere presence of Bernard. The thought of him yelling or snapping at me deterred me from keeping my calm. Hasty and hollowed breaths overtook my lungs once again as I tried my best to mask it.

"Well, I can do a little checkup-" I bent down to grab certain sets of medical supplies to conduct a check-up, "let's check your temperature shall we?"

His mouth opened for a slither of a moment before shutting again. Guess he was too tired to bother and protest. Lucky me. I raised my hand up, placing the thermometer up to his forehead, waiting for the beep to indicate his temperature was taken. It was a good thing I had his hat, it made it easier to reach his forehead. Once I heard the audio, I turned the device around and read the calculation.

"100.8...Uhm...yea, Bernard you're clearly ill. You need to rest-" Before I could conclude what I wished to say, he debated against my statement.

"I can't rest!-"

My father quickly intervened to prevent any further arguments, "Rest. That's an order"

"But-"

"Bernard." My father looked down at him with a stern look indicating there was no way out from what we all advise.

"Here, I'll take him to my room. It's the coolest temperature wise." I hesitantly reached down for Bernard's hand but resorted to grabbing his sweater's sleeve instead knowing skin contact wouldn't be such a wise idea.

-time skip to your room-

I had snagged a few warm meals from the chefs in the scenario that Bernard develops any irritation in his throat. To my astonishment, Bernard was compliant the entire time. No verbal complaints were made.

That is unless he had already caught a sore throat-

We brushed past the myriad of elves and down the seemingly ceaseless corridor into my room. Gently tugging on the head elf's soft sweater, I guided him to my bed.

"Are you feeling okay?" I glimpsed down at his eyes as I guided him with my hands lowering him down onto the bed.

To no avail, I received no reply. The silence had loomed over me menacingly as I peered down over to the diverse range of dishes I had hitched up from the kitchen.

"Hey! I brought you your favorite soup! Y'know, Clyde and his special recipe!" I chirped, gently grabbing the dish and holding it out to his view in hopes of possibly cheering the guy up. Yielding no results, I let out a hushed disappointed sigh. I pursed my lips to the side contemplating on what I should do to get at least a noise from him.

A/N: I'm sorry if this story is hella slow- I'm just saying- you can't really hop into a relationship (a healthy one at least) without getting to know the person beforehand. (I mean it's possible, but ehh) plus it allows me to write more! Writing is one of my healthy coping mechanisms! 

And as I said before, this little 'side plot'  of taking care of a sick head elf will just serve as a little transition and a chance to see how much of an emotional baggage our Bernard can be. (also becuz writing about sick cranky people is just funny)