irvine62

Who: Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas
Where: Their dorm room (actually it's still Irvine's but both of em live there practically).
Why: Sefie's getting sick, no party for her.
Date of Log: September 30, 2000.

Yaa~aay! A paaarty~! A -costume- party, even. Super-dee-duper-COOL. Tying the little bow that connects the Rinoa-esque blue coat, Selphie even has her hair down for the occasion. Humming 'eyes on me,' ironically enough, the girl shifts her weight back and forth witht he song. Dum de dum! The fact that she's progressively felt crappier and crappier throughout the day will -not- hinder her good time, she's positive. Besides, it's probably just allergies. Something in the air. Right. Right! ...Right? Rubbing her nose quietly, the girl makes a note to grab some tissues before they go.

Guess what, you get to see Irvine in black leather. Half in his 'Squall' getup, he's got the pants on, and the shirt, even that oddball belt that he had to do some work on to get it right. However, he hasn't donned the jacket yet, or put on the goofy spikey wig yet. He was trying to avoid it, but hey, eventually he has to put it on. That and right now he's trying to find the boots. Peeking out of the bathroom, he rubs at one eye and asks, "Hey, Sefie, you seen those b-- you ok, Darlin'?" He's noticed she's been kinda sneezey/wheezy today, and has probably asked a couple of times if she's ok.

Hee hee. Leather Irvy. Where -did- Squall get that getup from, anyway? Blinking widely over to the leather-clad cowboy, hand still at her nose, she looks at him blankly for a moment. Okay? Why wouldn't she be-- Oh, duh. Talk about zoning out. Beaming brightly as soon as it dawns on her, the hand falls to her side. "Uh-huh!" She's okay! Really! ...Really. Then, in the same breath, adds, "--They should be right where you left 'em," which really isn't an answer at all. Oh well.

Irvine hmms, brows furrowing as he gives his little wonder in Rinoa clothing a dubious look. "If you're sure..." And honestly, the boy has no idea where he left the boots for this. He'd polished em for the occasion and then set them aside. Problem is -where- did he set them. So, walking out of the bathroom now, he opens the closet, rifling around at the base of it. Ah hah! Wow, he actually put something away. No wonder he couldn't find it. About this time, he approaches the bed to sit and put on said boots, lacing em up. His mind's only half on the task though, the other half of his attention watching her. He smiles, "You look good, Darlin'."

Nodnod! She's -positive-. Glancing down at her own pair of boots as Irvine rummages for his, the brunnete plops down onto the bed just a moment or two before him. Plucking the right boot from the ground, she loosens the laces, glancing up at the sudden compliment. Beam. "Blue's -so- not my color!", Selphie teases, then adds, "You look good too~! Makes me wonder how long Squall spends every day getting dressed, though..." Without even realizing it, she rubs again at her nose, sniffling. Eek. Back to shoe-putting-on-ing.

Irvine finishes up on the first set of laces, and starts on the second. That's a good question, how in the world -does- Squall get dressed like this everyday. Then again, Squall might ask a similiar question regarding the cowboy's getup. He glances over at Selphie again as she sits. He winks roguishly, that half grin adorning his Adonis-like features, "Any color looks good on you, Darlin'." Oh, but he does notice that sniffle again. Having recently been rather ill, it concerns him. Scooting a little closer, lifts a hand toward her forehead, just checking to see if she's overly warm. Fever checking, mind you, not anything else. For once.

Ruh-roh. Slightly clammy, with a chance of muy caliente. Selphie, of course, attributed her body tempature to the added clothing. Ehee. Blinking rapidly at the hand on her forehead, the girl gives Irvine a puzzled look, turning her head to look right at him. "--What the heck are you doing?" Uhoh. What if she -is- hot, ponders Selphie. Belatedly moving her hand to bat his away, the brunnete lets the shoe`ed foot drop back onto the ground. "I'm fiii~iiine! It's just allergies! We're gonna be -late-, Dr. Kinneas."

Irvine frowns slightly, not liking what he felt. "You're looking kind a pale too sweetheart, are you sure things are ok?" He rises to his feet anyway, still semi getting ready. He doesn't want to put on that damn wig, that has nothing to do with why he's suddenly reluctant to go anywhere. Who knows what the Baron climate might do to a cold, if she's got one and a night of being social (as Selphie is more then well known to be) and probably expending her energies is not the best thing in the world for her if she's sick. So... "Do allergies normally make your forehead hot like that?"

Selphie is -not- missing this social event. She missed the last one! Must convince Irvy she's okay. Putting on a little pout, the girl slumps her shoulders. "I'm -fine-, Irvy! I'm -oh kay-. -More- than okay! I'm not physically capable of being more okay than I am right now!" Of course, cue a well-timed sneeze directly after. Ah -- aaah -- aaah -- "--Chu!" It's a cute little sneeze, given, both hands covernig her mouth. Slooowly sideglancing to the cowboy afterwards, she sniffles, lowering her hands into her lap. "...Yes, of -course- they d-- Hee~eey!" Her own hand now moving to her forehead, she frowns. "My forehead is -so- not hot! You're just cold."

Irvine cants his head to the side, long reddish bangs brushing against his cheeks, even though he'd attempted to catch most of his hair in the ponytail for wig donning later. He's frowning, brows are furrowed, definately -not- convinced by her protests. And then she sneezes. "That does it, Darlin', we're not going anywhere till we've taken your temp and if it's ok, then I'll drop it and we'll go, deal?" But, he neglects to take on, 'if you've got a fever we are not going -anywhere-'.

--! "Uh!" Selphie doesn't like the sound of this at all. Wrinkling her nose, she -does- decide that perhaps she can like, not put the thermometer under her tongue, or something. Make the tempature-taker-thing give a lower tempature than it should. Crossing her arms stubbornly -- this outfit feels weird to do that in -- she nod!s. "Fine! Better get ready to go, then. Being fashionably late is okay, but we're gonna miss the whole -thing- at this rate!"

Irvine chuckles softly at the jab and wanders into the bathroom to fetch both thermometer and the damn wig. Walking out again, he hands the thermometer to Selphie, expecting her to use the silly thing properly. "Promise me you'll put that under your tongue so it'll have a proper reading." It's not a real threat, but he is giving her a wry look, having already thought of her ploy. And then, as she's doing this presumably, he tosses his head forward, pulling the ponytail up so he can put the damn wig on, tugging at it and then pushing in unruly strands of hair underneath.

Rrr. Kicking her feet anxiously as Irvine enters the bathroom, Selphie blows a strand of hair from her eyes. This'll be a cinch, right? Looking back up as he emerges, she takes said instrument in hand, moving it to her mouth even as he talks. --Erk. Sideglancing him, the girl purses her lips, pauses, and... Smiles! "--Why wouldn't I? Silly!" Meanwhile, the screen is split suddenly, the top half clack!ing down over the bottom, revealing a glaring_Selphie surrounded by flames. 'Aaarg! Foiled at every bummer-like turn!' The top half then clack!s down over the bottom again, revealing the normal scene. With a surpressed sigh, the girl places the thermometer in her mouth, under her tongue. ...And lifts her tongue up to the top of her mouth. That'll do something, right?

Irvine completes tucking his hair under the wig and just watches Selphie otherwise. It looks silly on him, he's not meant to be Squall, after all. That and he can tell right now it's going to be far more annoying then his own hair, which is always nicely kept out of the way by a ponytail holder. This gets in his eyes and will have to be brushed out constantly, and he's already started doing it. After what's supposedly long enough the little electronic thingy starts to beep and he reaches for the thermometer silently.

Glancing up slowly as she taptaps her foot, waiting for the stupid thing to beep, Selphie... stares. Irvine in a Squall wig looks... looks.... silly! And she giggles, one hand covering her mouth as much as she can with the thing in her mouth. Teehee. Said giggles die slightly, however, as it -does- beep. Staring crosseyed at it for a moment, she -tries- to read the numbers, but isn't fast enough. Hands move to pluck it from her mouth belatedly, seconds after Irvine already did. The girl even makes a little noise of protest as he takes it. Eek! Please be low! ...99.2. Not... really hot... But not normal, either.

Irvine hmms as he reads it, one blue eye then squinting out from under the wig at Selphie as he considers it. One the one hand she's not really feverish. Could probably go and be all right. Then again, what if they went and she got really sick, he'd feel horrid. "99.2," he says, with a bit of an indecisive sound to his voice. "Not really high... but not normal either, sweetheart." He sighs, brushing that damn wig hair out of his face again with long fingers. "And I don't think this is just allergies... what if you get really sick while you're at the party?" He's worried, but he doesn't want to ruin her fun either. Aw.

99.2! That's nothing. "--Awww, that's not high at all!" Pouting time. Bouncing slightly on the bed where she sits, Selphie whii~iines. "If I get realy sick it'll be -all- my fault 'cause I didn't listen to you! C'moo~oo~oo~oon, Irvy! I'm fine! I'm -great-! I'll drink lots of punch, that's got fruit juice in it, right?" Of course, cue another sneeze, and then another. Chew! Chew! ... Chew! Said sneezes leave her wavering a bit, hands up to her mouth. ...Dammit. "--Er, allergies!" Sniffle. "It's just a coincidence that I'm kinda hot!" And she even hops up to her feet, fully intent on zipping the heck out of here once given the opening.

Irvine was really gonna say, 'screw it, let's go' and give in to her, until she started the sneezing fit. He frowns again and shakes his head, reaching up to pull off the wig. No way he's letting her go out while she's sick, and colds being nasty creatures, the nature of the beast is to start out small and then creep up on you before pouncing. "Sorry, sweetheart, we're not going." If she's hot now, he can only imagine that her temperature will rise soon enough. He doesn't make a grab for her though, if she tries to zip out. He's not leaving, however, from the look of things.

Waaaaaah! Resisting the urge to rub at her nose again, Selphie -pouts-. "Irvii~iine!" Stompity-stomp of her foot -- still only wearing one boot -- and arms crossed. "C'mon, -please-?" Making a break for it has left her mind, for the moment. Now she's going to argue! And be stubborn! Lower lip jutting out, she frowns, deciding asking nicely won't change his mind. "--Well, I'm -so- not lying down." That is, if course, what -she'd- make -Irvine- do, if the situation were reversed.

Well, it's not like she'd have a choice in the matter anyway if he snatched her up and brought her over to the bed... and well, that's exactly what he tries to do. Reaching for her with those black costume gloves on, he gives her a wry half smirk, "Darlin', you should know better then to challenge me like that." If he has to, he'll lie -next- to her to get her to stay put. Not that he thinks she'd mind that much. He's not worried about getting sick himself, he's -been- sick already, and figures he's gotten his quota of illnesses for the year.

Er. You know, Selphie doesn't normally think about what she says before she's said it. Blinking for a moment, standing perfectly still, as Irvine starts for her, a little lightbulb flickers on above her head. Blink. Eek! Hopping quickly to the side, the girl lets out a surprised little squeal. "--Heey!" Placing the desk chair between her and the cowboy, she won't really get far -- but damned if she's gonna go down without a fight! "It's not -my- fault you take that stuff as a challenge!"

Pausing, Irvine sighs at the little minx, resting his hands on the back of said chair as he just -looks- at her. "Darlin, if I let you go to that party and you get really ill, I'd feel damned guilty. Please. For me, lie down and take care of yourself." When Selphie is stubborn, try pleading. Sometimes it works... sometimes. Of course, through the dishelved mass of his own hair, those baby blue eyes are pleading too. This isn't all an act either, he really is concerned.

Selphie sniffles. "..." Staring up at the cowboy, chin tilted towards her chest, lips pursed, Selphie feels really baaad. "..." Is -she- supposed to be Squall...? Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she sideglances the bed, then Irvine, then the door. Why couldn't this have happened -tomorrow-! Or -last- night. Why toniii~iiight? Looking again to the cowboy, her brow furrows, and, "...-Fine-," she sighs. Slump. This suuucks. --Ka-chew!

Irvine moves the chair aside now, the legs protesting as they scrape along the floor. Resting a hand against her shoulder, he guides her over to the bed, looking relieved. "Thank you. I know it sucks Darlin', but I'll stay with you." He doesn't go very many places without her these days anyway, and a party without Selphie is like a day without any sunlight. It wouldn't be the same. "When did this start anyway?"

Letting herself be guided, the girl plops heavily down onto the bed, not even bothering with her boot. Poutypoutpout. She -won't- lie down yet, though! "Thankee," she says, though she doesn't sound particularly perky about it. Untying the bow on the coat, she starts to slip it off, but intends to leave the skirt/bodysuit on. And her boot. She won't get comfy! No! "...T'day." Sniffle.

Irvine kneels next to the bed, helping Selphie out of the boot at least, untying it and slipping it off her foot to toss it aside. He glances up as he's doing this, sighing. "That's why you're temp's not that high yet, Darlin'. It's just startin'. I'm glad you're gonna stay and rest, it's the best and fastest way to get over something. Remember how sick I was?" That was a bit of a special case though, he'd have gotten over that paticular cold fairly quickly if he hadn't gone traipsing through the cold with Terra for supplies.

Oh, poo! Why's he gotta be so sweet? Be an asshole, like the old days! Waaah... "I'd a'been -fine-," she still insists, thinking about all the -fun- that she's gonna miss. Rrr. He says 'I'm glad you're gonna stay and rest' as if she were the one that wanted to! Hrmph. Nodding slowly with his other words, letting her shoe get removed, the brunnete le-sighs. "Yee~eeah..." All the trouble of getting these cute costumes for nothing!

Irvine doesn't wanna be an asshole anymore. Dammit, he's finally found something -real- and he'll be damned if he's gonna screw this up. So sorry, no more asshole-ish behavior. The boy's finally begun to grow up. "We'll save the costumes. I'm sure something will come up... like Halloween or something." Hey, there you go. Rising far enough to sit himself on the edge of the bed, he reaches for the sweater material'd coat so he can fold it and put it away. He's really being attentive already, isn't he. "You want something warm to wear to bed? You'll probably need it." He's really worried the fever might get worse. Fret fret fret.

Pooooout. "Yeah," she sighs wistfully, letting her eyes shut as the sigh ends. Halloween. So far away! Sooo far away. Leaning back on her hands, Selphie just keeps her eyes shut. Yeah, she can feel the cold catching up to her even as she mopes about it, but still. "...I'm not -cold-, though," she explains. Waah. Kicking her bare feet, the brunette cracks an eye open. "Do I have to sleep -now-?" It's so eeeeearly.

Irvine reaches over to brush his fingers over Selphie's cheek. It's a tender gesture, he's not checking for fever or anything. "Just lie down, you don't have to sleep, yet if you don't want to. I'll get you some orange juice from the cafeteria, ok? Do you want anything else while I'm there?" And since he has no intention of changing out of this outfit before going there, you can imagine the oddball looks he's going to get for it. He remembers what she tried to do for him, after all, so naturally he's attempting to reciprocate.

Not yet realizing the potential of this situation, Selphie continues to be stubborn. "No~. Not hungry." Even as she says the latter, she moves to just flop backwards, pulling her legs up onto the bed. "Thankee though," is added, belatedly. Man! She's still thinking about all the fun she's missing. Stupid cold! Stupid stup-- Something from the cafeteria? Brought to her? In -bed-? ...Hee~eey... Sniffling once more, this one forced, the girl cocks her head a bit on the pillow to consider the cowboy. "...Wee~eell.." Uh oh.

Frowning a bit at the refusal, Irvine merely sighs and shrugs, grabbing at the blanket to tug it over Selphie as she lies back finally. Aw, he's even tucking her in, making sure she's kept snuggie warm. He even leans over to kiss her forehead. "Well, then I'll b--" Hmmm, seems she's finally started realizing what she's got going here. Straightening again with lips quirking to the left in a half grin and his arms folding over his chest, he lifts an eyebrow and asks, "What do you want?"

Chewing slightly on her lower lip, Selphie ponders. He probably won't bring anything junk-foodish, which is what she -really- wants. So, well -- hrm. "I dunno, something light," she finally decides on. That's asfe, and could be a number of things. If he brings her soup, she has half a mind to not eat it, since -he- didn't eat -hers-. Meanie. But she wouldn't do that, of course!