Sick Day With Jam 2

[grimoireofkenji]

 

"Ah, sick again, huh?" Your achy eyes open slowly to find a mop of white hair draped over your face, obscuring your vision. Fogged-up, oversized lenses and a pale, freckled face sits uncomfortably close to you.

"It happens. I'm only human, you know." You reply, stretching.

"Shall I make you some more soup?" Jam asks, a hint of eagerness in her cute monotone voice.

"You mean cup noodles? Did you wait several months to make me cup noodles again?"

Jam's cheeks turn a little red, and she holds two arms behind her head playfully. "Maybe?" She says.

"Do you remember how?" You ask.

"Of course!" Jam replies proudly. She's playing a Gameboy advance with her other two arms. She has a heavy sweater on, so you can't occupy yourself counting her freckles or whatever it is you do. Of course, she isn't wearing pants.

"Well, then yes, please."

Eventually, waiting for your eldritch freeloader to make noodles takes too long, and you feel sleep taking you. In your dreams, you imagine horrifying, twitching tendrils, and dark sludge pervading every crack and crevice in your house. Your mind races as you struggle to escape. You feel tendrils wrap around your legs as your body, wracked with pain, fights in futility. You break free for just a moment, long enough to escape your bedroom. As you approach the kitchen, panting heavily and leaning on a wall for support, you see Jam, perched on a kitchen stool, like some kind of kitchen gargoyle, crouching over a cup of noodles on the counter. Steam rises from within, as well as… 

Tendrils. Squirming, monstrous appendages wriggle back and forth, springing out of the cup as if they were always in there and waiting to be awoken.

“Jam!?” You manage to choke out. She turns to you in shock.

“Human!” Steam from the noodles coats her glasses, but you can see a toothy smile on her face. She grabs the cup of noodles with two of her hands and offers it out to you, her hands stretched as far as they can go, still perched on the stool.

As she does so, tentacles fall from the cup to the ground, leaving an inky black trail across the dark kitchen floor. Before you can react, they’re upon you. You’re entangled and despite how much you try to struggle, you’re far too sick to fight back. Your vision grows dark,

Eventually, you wake up. Your eyes shoot open to find your oft-unreliable girlfriend standing at the doorway, noodles in hand. 

"Human!" Jam looks at you, puzzled by your state. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, better now. What a horrible dream."

"Ah, well, I don't have dreams."

"I'm sorry." You reply.

"It's alright! I enjoy being awake all the time. Plus, dreams are for those who truly sleep."

"Like humans?"

"Right. You're only human, after all." Jam giggles, sitting down your cup noodles on the end table, and kissing you on the cheek gently.

The cold of her lips against your cheek is surprising, yet totally expected, like the touch of winter against uncovered arms.

From the corner of your eye, you think you can almost make out something dark and wriggling retreating through the doorway and out of your room.

"Thanks, Jam."