msallycat

[msallycat]

Note: Sickfic. Don't read if its not your thing.

Ginger Tea & Moonlight Magic

Luna brushed a lock of coal-black hair behind her ear as she leaned over the bubbling cauldron in the kitchen. The herbs swirled with flecks of golden root and pale petals, releasing a warm, spicy steam that fogged up the windows. Outside, the night had turned misty, a soft drizzle tapping on the glass panes like a lullaby. Inside, though, was a different kind of storm.

“Aahhh… CHHhuhh! Huh-TSHHhoo! Aaah-chooouhh!”

Another trio of thunderous sneezes echoed from the couch.

Luna turned with a small, sympathetic sigh.

"Bless you, babe."

Miles sniffled, nose bright pink and eyes watery. His usually tousled brown hair looked messier than usual, flattened slightly by a damp forehead. He was wrapped in three blankets, a box of tissues clutched to his chest like a life vest.

“I'b dying,” he croaked dramatically.

“You’re not dying.” Luna crossed the room and handed him a steaming mug. “You’ve got a cold. And I’ve got a potion. Well, technically, ginger-lemongrass tea with echinacea and a very small enchantment for fast healing.”

Miles took the cup with trembling hands. “Does it taste like bat toes again?”

“That was one time,” she said, plopping onto the couch beside him. “And they were caramelized.”

He took a sip and raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Okay… that’s actually good.”

“Told you.” She pressed her hand gently to his forehead. “Still warm. You’ve got a fever, but it’s not magical—thank the Moon.”

Miles gave a phlegmy chuckle.

“That would’ve been ironic. Catching a magic flu while dating a witch.”

“Oh, it happens,” she said airily, drawing a little rune of protection on his blanket with her fingertip. It shimmered faintly then sank into the fabric.

“Last spring, my mortal cousin Ivy sneezed out fireballs for a week after catching something from a wizard she works with. Burned through three sets of pajamas.”

Miles blinked.

“Suddenly I feel lucky.”

Luna leaned her head on his shoulder, ignoring his protests about being contagious. “You are lucky. You have me. And tea. And anti-sneeze charms embedded in the couch cushions.”

“That’s why every time I sneeze, I feel like I’m getting hugged by something warm and invisible?”

“Yep.” She grinned. “That’s a Whisper Wombat. Rare enchantment.”

He sniffled again, and she handed him another tissue like clockwork.

They sat in silence for a while, Miles sipping his tea and Luna absentmindedly twirling her fingers in little sparkles of light, adjusting the air to stay just the right kind of cozy. His eyelids drooped as the warmth and herbs did their work.

“Luna?” he murmured, half-asleep.

“Mm?”

“You’re kind of amazing.”

She smiled, brushing his hair back with soft fingers.

“That’s the idea, my love.”

As he finally drifted off, snoring gently and wrapped in charmed warmth and lemon-ginger dreams, Luna whispered an old blessing under her breath and kissed his temple. The mist outside cleared just enough to reveal the moon, full and glowing—watching over them both.

~*~

Miles barely had time to reach for the tissue box before the next sneeze hit him.

“HhhEH’TSCHHHHuhh! … Hhehh’KTSCHhh! … TSCHhh’Yuhhh!”

“Bless you!” Luna cried, jolting up from the armchair. She crossed the room quickly, skirts swishing and charm-bracelets clinking faintly as she knelt beside the couch.

“Hehhuhh’TSCHhhhoo! Ughhh… dammit— Ehh-TSCHhhuhhh!”

Miles hunched forward, practically buried in the oversized blanket, tissues scattered like snowflakes around him. His whole frame shook with the effort of sneezing, breath hitching uncontrollably.

Luna placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart…”

He gasped for air, blinking through watery eyes.

“I… huhhhTSCHHhuhh! … can’t stop…”

“I know. I know.” Luna rubbed soothing circles into his back as he rode out the storm, his face red, nose streaming, and every breath threatening another sneeze. “Just breathe. You're okay. You're okay…”

Finally, the fit tapered off. Miles sagged backward into the pillows like a drowned man washed up on a very cozy, witch-charmed beach.

“Are you—?” she started.

“Hhhuhhh… huhhhKTSCHHHuhh!”

One last rebellious sneeze shot out.

Luna blinked, then sighed, but her eyes were sympathetic.

“Okay. Now are you done?”

“I hate this,” he mumbled, voice wrecked. “I think I’ve sneezed out a lung. Possibly two.”

“I think your lungs are intact, darling. But your sinuses are definitely staging a coup.”

He gave her a miserable look.

“Can’t you just… magic it away? Cast a spell, open a portal to the sneeze dimension and banish my nose or something?”

Luna smiled, soft and sad. She leaned in and brushed his damp hair back from his clammy forehead. “I wish I could. Believe me.”

Miles sniffled, eyes closing as she continued gently petting his hair.

“It’s one of those annoyingly stubborn things,” she murmured, voice low and warm. “Even magic has limits. You can reanimate the dead, talk to the stars, charm the frost off a mountain—but the common cold?” She shook her head. “Completely immune to enchantment. Little bastard virus doesn’t even care that I’m a witch.”

Miles chuckled faintly.

“Figures. My luck—I'm dating a magical goddess and still get taken out by a glorified sneeze.”

She laughed, and kissed his temple gently. “You’re not being taken out. You’re just on a temporary mortal pause.”

“Mmm.”

She tucked the blanket higher under his chin, the fabric now faintly glowing from her charm work.

“All I can do is make you comfy, feed you tea, and ward off any chance of magical flu joining the party.”

Miles opened one bloodshot eye.

“You’re doing amazing.”

Luna smiled again, softer this time.

“So are you. Even if you sound like a broken foghorn.”

He gave her a weak smirk.

“Sexy.”

“The sexiest,” she confirmed, curling up beside him. “Now hush. You need to rest.”

And with the storm of sneezes behind them—for now—the little cottage fell quiet again, lit by candlelight, moonbeams, and the hum of quiet magic pulsing through the walls.

~*~

Miles was never the clingy type. He was steady, quiet, reliable in the way mountains were — always there, solid, not prone to emotional earthquakes.

Which was why Luna immediately looked up when she felt the blanket shift and saw him stretching one fever-warm hand toward her across the couch.

"Luna?” he croaked, voice small and rough around the edges.

She stood from the armchair immediately, her knitting forgotten mid-stitch.

“What is it, love?”

Miles blinked at her blearily. His cheeks were flushed, either from fever or embarrassment, and his eyes—usually calm and cool—looked soft and needy.

“Can you… just…” He trailed off, words dissolving into a congested sniffle.

Luna crossed to him in two quick steps and sat down, gently drawing the blankets back so she could slip in beside him.

“You want a cuddle, baby?”

He gave a faint nod, almost sheepish.

“I know I’m gross right now. And sweaty. And my nose is basically a faucet. But I just… I don’t know. I feel like I’ll feel better if you’re here.”

Her heart ached with affection. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of his head as he buried his face into her shoulder.

“You poor thing,” she whispered, kissing his temple. “You must feel awful if you’re the one asking to cuddle.”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a congested moan.

“I know. I hate being needy. But this cold is brutal. I feel like a used handkerchief.”

Luna smiled against his hair.

“You’re not needy. You’re sick. There’s a difference. Besides, you’re allowed to want comfort.” She tugged the blankets tighter around both of them and began a slow, soothing rhythm of rubbing his back.

He melted into her, sighing with relief as his tense shoulders slowly relaxed. “Thanks. This helps. You always make everything feel better.”

“Well, not everything,” she murmured, pressing her cheek to his. “Still can’t magick away mucus. But cuddles? Cuddles, I can do.”

“Best kind of magic,” he mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep against her.

And so Luna held him—her stoic, stubborn, sneezing mountain of a man—close and warm under the blanket charm, listening to his breathing even out, letting her magic quietly weave comfort around him like a lullaby.

~*~

An hour passed in the hush of candlelight and gentle rainfall, the cottage bathed in the soft amber glow of Luna’s charmed sconces. The warmth of the couch, the tea still steaming faintly on the side table, and Luna’s quiet heartbeat beneath his cheek had finally lulled Miles to sleep.

But it didn’t last.

He stirred with a miserable groan, brow furrowed and face flushed. His head ached like it was stuffed with damp cotton, his throat burned, and his nose was still hopelessly congested. The world felt heavy, like it had settled on his chest.

“Ughhh…” he groaned, barely able to sit up. “Still dying…”

Luna was already awake—she hadn’t moved from her spot beside him. The moment he shifted, she stroked his back gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice low and full of quiet concern. “You’re okay. Just breathe, sweetheart.”

He turned his face toward her and sniffled wetly, eyes glassy with fever and something else—something vulnerable. Before she could say more, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder again, tighter this time, like he was afraid she might slip away if he didn’t hold on hard enough.

“Still feel like hell,” he mumbled against her.

“I know.” She smoothed his messy hair away from his damp forehead, her fingers cool and tender. “You don’t have to explain.”

“It won’t stop,” he whispered hoarsely. “My head, my nose—everything hurts. And I’m cold. And hot. And my skin’s itchy. I hate this.”

Luna’s heart broke a little more with every word. She held him tighter, letting her magic pulse low and steady beneath her skin—a charm of comfort, not to heal, but to soothe. It shimmered across his back like warmth from a hearth.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmured, rocking him gently. “You’re sick, not weak. And you’re allowed to hate it. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Miles sniffled again and didn’t answer—just held on, a rare moment of unfiltered need from a man who usually carried everything in silence.

Luna kissed his temple again, then his fevered cheek.

“Let’s ride this out together, okay? You don’t have to be strong right now. You just have to be here. That’s enough.”

He nodded into her shoulder, finally exhaling a shaky breath and letting himself relax just a little.

And so they stayed like that: tangled in warmth and magic, stormy sinuses and all. Luna hummed softly under her breath, ancient lullabies passed down through generations of witches—songs not meant to cure, only to comfort.

And for Miles, in that moment, that was more than enough.

~*~

Luna had felt the shift before she heard it.

Miles’s breathing, already unsteady from congestion, changed—hitched just slightly, in a way that had nothing to do with sneezing or coughing. His shoulders trembled, almost imperceptibly, and then she felt it: a hot tear soaking quietly through the fabric of her shirt.

“Miles?” she whispered, her fingers still combing gently through his hair.

He didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. He only held on tighter, face still buried in the crook of her neck, as another quiet sniffle broke free. His body trembled again, and this time she knew it wasn’t the fever.

Luna froze for half a second in shock.

In the two years they’d been together—through magical disasters, haunted road trips, her accidentally turning his favorite hoodie into a sentient puff of cloud—Miles had never cried. He was composed to a fault. Stoic. Gentle, yes, but never undone.

Now he was unraveling right there in her arms, quietly breaking under the weight of too many bad days and one really miserable cold.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Her voice cracked a little. She pulled him fully into her lap without thinking, cradling his head to her chest and wrapping both arms around him like a shield. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Miles didn’t speak. The tears weren’t dramatic or loud—they were quiet, almost ashamed, as if he didn’t want her to notice—but they didn’t stop. His fingers fisted in her cardigan like he was clinging to the only solid thing left in the world.

Luna pressed her cheek to his hair, her own heart aching.

“You don’t have to hold it in, love. Not with me. Never with me.”

He let out a sound—half-sob, half-sigh—so small it nearly shattered her.

“I just…” he managed, voice raw and broken. “I feel so awful, and I’m so tired, and I hate this, and—”

He choked out another sob.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“Because your body’s exhausted. Because you’re hurting. Because sometimes the dam just breaks.” She cupped his face gently, guiding him out of her shoulder just enough to meet his red, watery eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

He did, reluctantly, ashamed.

She brushed her thumbs under his eyes, catching fresh tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly. “You can fall apart with me. I want you to. You’re allowed to feel like this. Even when it’s just a dumb mortal cold. Especially then.”

That broke him a little more. He buried himself in her again, and this time, she just rocked him slowly, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

And to her, he was.

Eventually, the tears slowed. The hiccupping breaths evened out. He was still sick, still aching, still a mess of sniffles and fever—but some invisible weight had lifted, and Luna felt it in the way he finally, quietly exhaled against her.

“Better?” she whispered.

He nodded, still clutching her.

“Yeah. A little.”

“Good.” She smiled, kissing the top of his head. “Now let’s get you through the rest of this. One cuddle, one sneeze, one cup of tea at a time.”

And Miles, held safely in her arms, finally felt like maybe that was possible.

~*~

Miles was quiet now.

Not silent—his breath still hitched occasionally, and his nose was a congested mess—but the storm had passed. His tears had stopped, leaving him emotionally wrung out, clinging to Luna like he was afraid he might fall apart again if he let go.

Luna didn’t move. She just held him, slowly rocking back and forth like she was lulling a much taller, snifflier child to sleep.

“You’re okay,” she murmured softly. “You’re doing so well, love. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Miles gave a small, shaky nod against her shoulder. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he still wasn’t quite himself—more like the echo of him, worn thin at the edges by fever, frustration, and exhaustion.

Luna pulled back gently, just enough to see his face. His eyes were puffy, red-rimmed, and still watery, cheeks damp with the last of his tears.

“Alright,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Let’s clean you up a little.”

She reached for the tissue box on the side table, tugged a couple free, and brought them up to dab gently under his eyes, drying the tear-streaks with a tenderness that made his throat close up again—not from illness, but from the depth of her care.

“Still with me?” she asked quietly.

He nodded.

“Yeah. Just… drained.”

“I know,” she said, smiling gently. “Let’s handle one thing at a time, okay?”

She folded a fresh tissue and lifted it toward his face.

“Blow for me?”

Miles gave a hoarse, reluctant chuckle.

“Romantic.”

She winked.

“I’m a witch. I’ve got cauldrons that smell

worse than anything coming out of your nose right now.”

He snorted weakly, then obediently leaned forward, letting her hold the tissue while he blew his nose—slowly, miserably, but thoroughly.

“There we go,” she said encouragingly. “Good job.”

He groaned afterward, slumping back against her like the effort had taken everything out of him.

“Do I look as gross as I feel?” he mumbled, voice muffled again.

She smiled and kissed his forehead, brushing her fingers through his hair again.

“You look like someone I love who's got a really, really bad cold. Which means you look like someone I’m going to stay right here with until it’s over.”

He let out a deep, tired sigh and tucked his head under her chin.

“Thank you.”

“Always,” she whispered.

And so she stayed with him—stroking his hair, murmuring soft comforts, and keeping him wrapped in warmth and affection—as the worst of it slowly, finally, began to ease.

~*~

They sat together in silence, wrapped in the warmth of each other and a charm-blanket still faintly pulsing with Luna’s magic. Miles’s breathing had evened out a little, his fevered body at least momentarily calmed.

Luna was just about to ask if he wanted more tea when she felt him tense slightly in her arms.

His breath caught.

Then hitched again.

“Oh—no, hang on—” she began, reaching instinctively for the tissue box.

“HhhHuhh’TCHHHhhuhh!! … hh-HHTSSCHhhhhh! … TSCHhh’Ehhhhh!”

He doubled over in her lap, sneezing violently into the tissue she’d just managed to press into his hands. The sheer force of it startled her. His whole body jerked with each one.

“Hehh-HUHHschhhuhh! KTSHHhhhuh! TSCHhhuh-uhh!”

“Miles,” Luna murmured, concern flaring in her voice as she shifted to support him better. “Easy, love, easy…”

He barely registered her—his body was in full revolt, dragged through another miserable fit. His nose was running again, and he barely had the energy to keep the tissue in place.

“Huhh-TSCHHHhhuhhh! … Khhuhh-TSCHhhoo!”

She rubbed his back firmly, grounding him. “You’re okay. Just let it out. I’ve got you.”

After a final, exhausted, "Hehh’TCHHHuhh…" the fit tapered off. He collapsed against her shoulder again, utterly drained, chest heaving and eyes glassy.

“Ughhh…” he groaned. “I hate sneezing…”

“I know, baby.” Luna wiped at his nose gently with a fresh tissue, then cradled his face in her hands.

“That was brutal. You okay?”

He gave a weak thumbs-up with one hand while clutching her with the other, voice barely audible.

“My sinuses have declared war.”

She chuckled softly and kissed his temple. “I’ll cast a preemptive truce spell next time.”

Still holding him close, she wiped under his nose one last time, then pulled the blanket around them again, tighter. “You’ve earned a few more cuddles. Doctor’s orders.”

Miles didn’t argue—just gave a soft hum of agreement and closed his eyes again, wrapped in Luna’s arms, tissue still in hand, and love wrapped around him like the coziest kind of magic.

~*~

They had just settled back into their shared cocoon of warmth, the worst of the sneezing storm seemingly behind them. Luna gently stroked Miles’s hair, her fingers brushing soothingly along his scalp as he nestled against her chest, head heavy, breaths uneven but calmer.

Then his breath hitched again.

“Oh no…” he groaned weakly.

Luna tensed, already reaching for another tissue.

“Here we go…”

“Hehh’TSCHHHuhh! … hh’KTSHHhuh! … AACHhh’uhhhuh!”

Three quick, miserable sneezes burst from him, his whole frame shuddering in her arms. He barely had time to cover his face properly, already overwhelmed.

“Bless you, love,” Luna murmured, dabbing at his nose for him again.

Miles let out a soft, congested groan and flopped back against her with a heavy sigh.

“Ughhh… I probably look so gross right now.”

Luna pause, then smiled.

“No, you don’t.”

He blinked up at her, skeptical.

“Luna. My face is literally leaking.”

She laughed softly, wiping the last of the mess from under his nose with another tissue, then tucking it into the growing pile on the side table.

“Maybe. But I still think you’re cute.”

Miles squinted at her.

“Cute? When I sneeze like a dying cat?”

“Exactly,” she said, brushing a bit of hair back from his forehead. “Your nose gets all red and scrunchy. You make the tiniest little sound right before it hits. It’s kind of… adorable.”

He groaned again and covered his face with both hands, muffling his embarrassment.

“Why are you like this?"

“Because I love you. And you’re a very cute sick person, no matter how much you protest.”

He peeked out at her, eyes still glassy and skeptical.

“You’re serious?”

She smiled and leaned in to kiss the tip of his flushed, sniffly nose.

“Dead serious.”

“…I feel betrayed,” he mumbled, cheeks warming.

“And I feel lucky,” she said, gently tugging his hands away so she could wrap him in a fresh hug. “Because I get to be here when you’re strong, and I get to hold you when you’re sneezy and sniffly and grumpy.”

Miles let out a small, reluctant laugh, finally settling back into her arms again with a sigh.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do,” she whispered, stroking his back. “Now hush. The cute little sneezes might come back if you keep talking.”

He groaned dramatically, but didn’t argue—just curled up closer, a little red in the face but secretly soothed, sniffling quietly as Luna held him like he was the most lovable creature on earth.

Which, to her, he was. Even when he sneezed. Especially then.

~*~

Miles let out another congested sniffle as he slumped against Luna, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“You… really shouldn’t be this close.”

She shifted slightly so he could lay more comfortably across her lap, running her fingers soothingly through his hair, careful not to disturb his tissue-stuffed hands.

“You’re going to catch this,” he added, turning his head just enough to look up at her through bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “It’s a tactical error.”

Luna snorted softly, her fingers pausing for a moment.

“Miles.”

“I’m just saying,” he mumbled, congested and serious, “you’re playing with fire. Germy, miserable, sneezy fire.”

She leaned down and kissed his forehead, slow and firm. He tensed.

“Luna!” he groaned, voice cracking. “You’re gonna get sick!”

She smiled, tilting her head.

“Miles, you caught this cold from me, remember?”

His eyes blinked sluggishly, like the memory had been pushed out by congestion and suffering.

“…Wait. I did?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. Remember, I caused all that chaos with my uncontrollable sneeze magic? Turned the couch into a giant loaf of bread?"

"Oh, yeah," Miles said, the memory dawning. "At least it was good bread. Not too crusty."

Luna laughed. Miles also let out a wheezy, half-choked chuckle.

“So we’re just… passing it back and forth like some cursed carnival prize?”

Luna raised an eyebrow.

“Apparently.”

He gave her a sly, watery grin.

“Sneeze tag.”

That did it.

Luna broke into laughter—real, unfiltered laughter that spilled out of her like warm honey.

“Sneeze tag?!” she choked out, covering her mouth as she shook with giggles. “Miles, what— that’s—” She nearly doubled over, careful not to jostle him too much. “That’s the most disgusting game I’ve ever heard of!”

He grinned weakly, basking in her laughter like a sleepy cat in sunlight.

“New Olympic sport. Two players. One tissue box. Eternal shame.”

Luna kept laughing, tears pricking her eyes now—but not from sadness. From relief, from love, from the absolute ridiculousness of it all.

When she finally calmed down, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan, she leaned in and kissed his warm, sniffling cheek.

“You’re lucky I love you, even when you sound like a haunted accordion.”

“And you’re lucky I’m too sick to protest how much you’re cuddling me.”

She nuzzled his temple and whispered, “Sneeze tag champion or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

Miles smiled, soft and dopey and just a little delirious.

“Tag,” he rasped. “You’re it.”

~*~

Morning came to the little cottage with a soft, gray light filtered through clouds. Rain tapped gently on the windows, the kind of slow, steady drizzle that made the world feel quieter, sleepier.

Miles was not feeling quiet or sleepy.

He was feeling sneezy.

“Hehh-TSCHHHuhhh! HhHhh’KTSCHHHuhh! … TSCHhh’Ehhh!”

He groaned loudly and flopped face-down into the pillow.

“Why is this worse?!”

From the kitchenette, Luna peeked around the corner with a mug in each hand, one of them glowing faintly with steam and an enchanted shimmer.

“You’re awake!”

Miles gave a muffled grunt into the pillow. “Barely. I sneezed myself conscious.”

Luna set the mugs on the nightstand and sat beside him, her voice immediately dipping into that soft, witchy coo she reserved for animals, sick people, and grumpy plants.

“Aww, still sneezy?”

“Worse,” he grumbled, rolling onto his side so he could squint at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Yesterday was bad. Today is a plague.”

As if to punctuate the point, he suddenly twisted to the side with another harsh sneeze.

“Huhh’TSCHHHuhh!”

Luna handed him a tissue before he could ask.

“Bless you.”

He blew his nose miserably.

“That didn’t feel like a sneeze. That felt like my soul tried to leave through my face.”

She held back a smile, gently rubbing his back as he sniffled.

“Sorry, love. Sometimes colds peak on day two. It’s cruel, I know.”

“This isn’t a peak, this is a sneeze apocalypse,” he croaked. “It’s sneezeageddon. I’m dying. Tell my plants I love them.”

“They already know,” Luna said calmly, reaching for the tea. “You whisper to them when you think I’m not listening.”

He gave her a baleful look through squinted eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to know that.”

She kissed his warm forehead.

“I know everything. Witch, remember?”

“Yeah, well, cast a spell and fix my nose.”

Another sudden sneeze wracked him.

“Huhh’TSCHHHuhhh!”

“I did. Three times. Your immune system just laughed and threw tissues at it.”

He groaned again, sniffling hard.

“If I sneeze one more time, I’m going to ascend to a higher plane out of sheer nasal force.”

Luna chuckled and handed him the enchanted tea.

“Well, sip this before you take flight. Ginger, honey, echinacea, and a tiny bit of eucalyptus. Not a cure, but it might slow the snot.”

He took it with a weak glare, muttering, “Witchcraft is a scam.”

“And yet,” she said sweetly. “You’re still in my bed, drinking my tea, being spoon-fed tissues by the very scam artist in question.”

He couldn’t help it—he smiled through the misery.

“You’re the best part of being sick.”

Luna beamed and kissed the top of his head.

“And you’re the cutest, sneeziest plague boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Great,” he muttered, sipping the tea with a dramatic sigh. “Sneeze tag, day two. I hope you’re ready.”

“I already warded the pillow,” she said, deadpan. “Try me.”

And with that, Miles gave a tired, amused sniffle and slumped back into the pillows, still feeling like his head might explode—but a little less miserable with Luna beside him.

~*~

Luna glanced over at Miles, whose red-rimmed eyes blinked slowly as he nestled deeper into the mound of pillows, tissues scattered like fallen leaves across the blanket. His nose was still pink and blotchy, and every now and then a soft sniffle escaped, punctuated by the occasional sneeze threat lurking behind his tired gaze.

She smiled softly and reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“You know what?” she said, voice gentle but firm.

Miles blinked up at her, curiosity mingling with exhaustion.

“Hmm?”

“We’re staying in bed today. No errands, no potions, no magic lessons, no ‘adulting’—just you, me, and a whole day of spoiling you with cuddles and tea.”

His lips twitched, the closest thing to a grin he could manage while congested.

“You’re serious?”

“Absolutely. You’ve earned it.” She brushed her fingers along his cheek. “You don’t have to move an inch.”

Miles let out a tired sigh and shifted closer, his arm slipping around her waist like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

“I don’t argue with orders from the boss witch.”

Luna laughed, then kissed his temple.

“Good. Because I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

He snuggled against her, head resting just beneath her chin, and for the first time since the cold took hold, he looked a little more at ease. Clingy, sure—but that just meant he really needed her.

She wrapped an arm securely around him and whispered, “We’ll get through this together.”

Miles closed his eyes, breathing a little easier in her warmth.

“Best medicine.”

“Definitely better than any potion,” Luna agreed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

And so they stayed, tangled up in blankets and each other, letting the world outside drift away as Luna spoiled him with all the cuddles he could handle—and maybe a few more sneezes, too.

~*~

Miles lay still beneath the soft, warm covers, eyes wide open and fixed on Luna as she traced gentle patterns on his forehead. Despite the exhaustion tugging at his limbs, sleep wouldn’t come—not because he wasn’t tired, but because a quiet, irrational fear gnawed at him. What if he closed his eyes and she vanished? What if, in that brief moment, she wasn’t there to hold him?

He didn’t want to miss a second of her—the way her hair caught the light, the soft rise and fall of her breath, the gentle curve of her smile when she caught him staring.

Luna noticed long before he said a word. With a teasing smile, she nudged him lightly with her elbow.

“You’re such a big clingy baby when you’re sick,” she whispered, voice full of warmth and amusement.

Miles blinked, caught off guard.

“What? Me?”

She laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

“Yeah, you. You’re glued to me like I’m some kind of magical security blanket. It’s adorable.”

He grumbled but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m not a baby.”

“Sure you’re not.” She smirked, eyes sparkling. “Big, brave, stoic Miles—except when you’re sneezing and sniffling and desperately clutching onto me like I’m the last thing keeping you grounded.”

He let out a weak chuckle, finally closing his eyes just a little, resting his head against her chest.

“Maybe I just like you being here.”

“That’s the best reason of all,” Luna said softly, wrapping her arms tighter around him. “No disappearing acts, I promise.”

For the first time since his cold began, Miles felt his eyelids grow heavy—not because he was forcing himself, but because he was safe. Because Luna was here, right where he needed her.

And with a final soft sigh, he drifted off, still wrapped in her arms, the clingy big baby he didn’t mind being at all.

~*~

Luna watched him carefully as his breathing slowed and deepened, the tension easing from his features. Miles had finally surrendered to sleep, his head resting gently against her collarbone, his chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm.

She smiled softly, brushing her fingers once more through his tousled hair before leaning down to press a delicate kiss to his lips—gentle, warm, and full of quiet affection.

Then, still lingering in the tender moment, she kissed his forehead, her lips lingering against his feverish skin.

Her gaze drifted to his nose, still a little pink and raw from all the sneezing and wiping.

She paused, biting her lip thoughtfully. It was tempting—he looked so vulnerable and sweet—but she knew better than to risk it.

His poor nose is way too sensitive right now, she thought with a soft smile.

Instead, she settled for a gentle stroke along the bridge of his nose, careful not to touch too hard, before pulling the blanket a little higher around him.

“Rest well, my sneezy love,” she whispered as she settled in beside him, watching over him like a guardian—not just with magic, but with all the love she had to give.

~*~

Miles stirred awake in the quiet dimness of the room, the weight of loneliness pressing on him before he even fully opened his eyes. But then—there she was. Luna, still beside him, her warmth wrapped around him like a shield.

Without thinking, he reached out and clung to her, burying his face against her shoulder, relief flooding through him. His voice was barely more than a breath.

“Thank you… for staying.”

Luna tightened her arms around him, her heartbeat steady and sure against his cheek.

“Always,” she whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

~*~

Miles barely had time to settle into Luna’s comforting embrace before his breath caught sharply.

“Ugh… no, not now,” he grumbled, voice thick with congestion.

His body tensed, shoulders jerking as the first sneeze pushed its way out.

“Hhh-TSCHhh—”

Before he could finish, a second—and then a third—followed in rapid, unstoppable succession.

“KTSCHhh! Huhh—TSCHhh! Hhh’TSCHhh!”

Each sneeze wracked him harder than the last, his whole frame trembling with the effort. He groaned between fits, muffled into the crook of Luna’s neck.

“I just woke up…” he muttered through labored breaths, “and I’m already sneezing like a blasted hornet’s nest.”

Luna held him tighter, soothing his back with gentle strokes.

“I know, love. It’s brutal. But you’re doing great.”

Miles let out a weary, exasperated sigh as the sneezing finally subsided, leaving his head heavy and stuffed.

“Can I get a break now?” he pleaded, voice rough but laced with a tired smile.

“As soon as you stop sounding like you’re summoning a storm,” Luna teased softly, kissing his temple.

He groaned again, but this time it was a little lighter—because even the worst sneezing fit wasn’t so bad when she was there to hold him through it.

~*~

Miles sniffled and reached for a tissue, determined to clear his nose once and for all. He blew hard, but no sooner had he done so than his breath caught again.

“Huh...huhh—HHTSCHhh! … Huhh—KTSHHhh!”

The sneezing fit hit him fast and furious, his body convulsing as Luna’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s okay, love,” she murmured softly, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

He shuddered through each sneeze, his head resting against her shoulder, vulnerable and raw.

“Almost done… you’re doing so well,” she whispered, voice calm and steady like a lullaby.

After a few more shaky sneezes, his breathing finally slowed.

Luna gently wiped his nose with a fresh tissue and smiled down at him.

“See? Not so bad when you’re not alone.”

Miles gave a weak, grateful smile, burying his face a little deeper into her warmth.

“Thanks for always being here, baby,” he rasped.

“Always,” she promised, pressing a tender kiss to his hair.

~*~

Miles’s breath hitched, his body stiffening as that all-too-familiar tickle crept up his nose. He scrunched his face, eyes squeezed shut, trying to summon the sneeze.

But it didn’t come.

“Ugh,” he groaned softly, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s stuck.”

Luna tilted her head, watching him closely. “Let me help.”

He sat still, letting her touch his nose.

She softly traced tiny circles along the bridge of his nose with her fingertip, careful not to press too hard.

“Focus on it,” she whispered. “Breathe through your mouth.”

Miles nodded, eyes still shut tight, face scrunched as if willing the sneeze free.

Then, with a sudden, ragged inhale, it burst forth.

“Hhuhh-HTSCHhh!”

Luna caught him instantly, pressing a tissue to his nose as his whole body jerked with the force of the sneeze.

“Bless you,” she said softly, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Miles exhaled, relief flooding his features. “Finally.”

Luna smiled, brushing a stray curl from his damp forehead. “Sometimes the hardest sneezes are the best to get out.”

He grinned weakly, sniffling. “I’m starting to believe you’re a wizard in more ways than one.”

Miles curled up tightly in Luna’s arms, his head resting against her chest, but despite the comfort of her warmth, she sensed a quiet tension lingering beneath his tired sighs.

His fingers twitched restlessly against her sleeve, and his usual steady breathing was uneven, as if his mind was wrestling with something unspoken.

Luna tightened her embrace just a little, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Hey,” she whispered softly, “what’s on your mind, love? You can tell me.”

Miles stayed quiet for a moment, then finally sighed, voice low and vulnerable.

“I don’t know… I guess I’m just frustrated. Being sick like this—it makes me feel… weak. And I hate feeling like I’m a burden.”

Luna’s heart clenched. She cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes with all the tenderness she could gather. “You’re not a burden, Miles. None of this changes how much I love you. If anything, I want to be here for you, every sneeze and sniffle.”

He gave a small, shaky smile, leaning into her touch.

“Thanks, Luna. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

She kissed his forehead gently. “Always. Now rest, okay? I’ve got you.”

~*~

The third morning dawned gray and heavy with the promise of rain, the soft rumble of distant thunder weaving through the quiet cottage. Luna stirred first, eyes fluttering open to find Miles curled beside her, still looking fragile and worn.

Before she could say a word, a sudden, thunderous sneeze shattered the stillness.

“Hhh—HHTSCHHHHHH!!!”

Miles’s whole body jolted with the force, his face scrunched up red and raw. He groaned miserably, clutching a crumpled tissue to his nose.

Luna blinked, half-amused, half-concerned. “Wow. That one could’ve shaken the trees outside.”

He sniffled loudly, voice thick with congestion. “Sinuses are still a war zone. I swear this cold is staging a full siege.”

She reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear and smiled gently. “Sounds like the sneeze storm’s not over yet.”

Miles gave a weak, resigned shrug.

“Guess I’m still the reigning champion of sneeze tag.”

Luna laughed softly, pulling him close. “Well, champ, you’ve got me as your loyal teammate.”

He managed a tired smile, resting his forehead against hers.

“Best partner I could ask for.”

And with the distant roll of thunder outside, they settled back into each other’s arms, ready to face whatever sneezy battles lay ahead—together.

Miles opened his mouth, a faint word trembling on his lips—then his breath caught.

“Hhh—HHTSCHHH! Hhh’KTSHHhh! TSSHHhh!”

His body convulsed with the force of the sneezing fit, head jerking into Luna’s shoulder as she held him steady, murmuring soothing words against his ear.

When the last sneeze finally faded, Miles let out a ragged breath, eyes watery but clear.

"What were you going to say, babe?" Luna asked.

He looked up at her, voice soft but earnest.

“I just wanted to say I love you. So much.”

Luna’s heart swelled. She brushed a tender kiss over his damp forehead and smiled warmly.

“I love you too, Miles. Always.”

~*~

After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, Miles suddenly scrunched up his face, eyes widening with that telltale tickle. Before either of them could brace for it, a thunderous sneeze exploded from him:

“HHUUUREESHHOOOO!”

The sheer force startled Luna so much that she gasped, and without meaning to, a burst of shimmering silver magic shot from her fingertips—sending a few of the pillows floating gently into the air.

Both of them froze for a moment, wide-eyed. Then Luna burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably.

Miles chuckled, eyes twinkling despite the congestion.

“Whoa! Guess I’m dangerous, huh?”

Luna grinned, still giggling as she waved her hands to gather the pillows back down.

“Apparently, your sneeze triggers unintended spellcasting. One second and… poof!”

With a quick flick and a whispered charm, the floating pillows settled neatly back on the bed.

“Alright, sneeze-powered magic contained,” she declared playfully, brushing a loose curl from his forehead. “Now, how about we keep the sneezes a little less exciting?”

Miles smiled weakly. “No promises.”

They shared another laugh, the kind that made even the sniffliest cold feel a little lighter.

[msallycat]

Notes: sickfic. Don't read if you're not into that.

Sneezes & Spells

Luna Merryweather was a powerful witch—graceful, wise, and composed… until she caught a cold.

Now, at 24 years old and with a nose as red as a strawberry, she sat on the couch wrapped in a pile of blankets. Her usually elegant black hair was limp and messy, her green eyes glassy, and her voice reduced to a gravelly croak.

Miles, her mortal boyfriend of two years, hovered nearby with a tray of tea, soup, and tissues. He placed it on the coffee table cautiously, keeping one eye on the floating chandelier above them—ever since Luna’s last sneeze, it had been swinging like a pendulum.

“Here, love,” he said gently. “Chamomile. With honey. And just a tiny bit of anti-levitation powder… just in case.”

Luna blinked at him blearily.

“You shouldn’t be here, you’ll get sick…”

“You sneezed yesterday and summoned a thundercloud in the bathroom,” Miles said, kneeling beside her. “I’m not leaving you alone with that kind of power.”

Luna sniffled.

“I—ah… ah-SHIEEEWW!”

✨️WHOOSH.✨️

The curtains flung themselves open as a gust of wind roared through the living room. Miles’s hair flew up like he’d stuck his head out a car window, and the tea tray rattled. The couch levitated three inches before slamming back down.

Miles didn’t flinch.

He stood calmly, hair now vertical, and walked to the kitchen to retrieve the soup bowl that had flown into the sink.

“You okay?” he called.

“I sneezed the lamp into the astral plane,” Luna mumbled. “Again.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, returning with the soup. “We’ve got candles. Very romantic.”

She looked at him with bleary gratitude as he fed her a spoonful.

“You’re… way too calm about this.”

“I’ve seen you fight off a demonic tax collector with a sunflower,” he said. “This is nothing.”

She giggled weakly—and immediately sneezed again.

"Heesshiiiewww!!"

All the books flew from the shelves and formed a swirling tornado above their heads. A photo of them at the lake spiraled past Miles’s ear.

He stood slowly, raised one hand, and shouted.

"Emergency code: Blanket Fort Alpha!”

Instantly, the living room cushions flew off the couch, forming a protective dome over her head. The books bounced harmlessly off.

Inside the fort, Luna wheezed with laughter.

“Did you name my cold emergency protocol?”

“You made me sign a magical waiver, remember?” he said, sticking his head into the fort. “I take my job seriously.”

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close.

"You’re ridiculous.”

He kissed her forehead gently.

“You’re magical. Even sick, you’re the most powerful woman I know. And I love you—windstorms and all.”

Luna sniffled again, smiling sleepily.

“You’re going to make a terrible familiar.”

Miles grinned.

“I’m aiming for ‘Best Mortal Boyfriend of the Century.’”

She sneezed one last time—softly this time—and the fort glowed with a warm golden light.

For the first time in hours, nothing exploded.

Miles blinked.

“Was that… a healing sneeze?”

Luna’s eyes closed as she murmured, “Maybe… or I just turned the couch into bread.”

They looked down at the couch beneath them.

Yep. Definitely bread.

Miles sighed.

“I’ll get the jam.”

~*~

The living room smelled faintly of herbs, bread, and singed curtain. Miles had just finished clearing the last of the flying soup bowls when he noticed Luna’s expression change.

She froze.

Her eyes widened.

One hand shot up to her nose.

“Oh no,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper. “Not again…”

Luna held a trembling finger in front of her face, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring slightly.

“Nnngh… I c-can… I… I think—” she stammered, her voice hitching like a ticking time bomb. “I think I can s-stifle it…”

Miles backed away slowly and began removing breakable items from nearby shelves.

"Lulu, we’ve talked about this," Miles said. "Don’t bottle it up! Remember what happened to the mailbox last time—”

“Hhhuuuhh...Huhhh…!”

She hunched over, every muscle in her body quivering. Her nose twitched dramatically. Her hair floated with static as stray magical energy started crackling around her fingers.

“I—huhh—have it under—huhhh! C-control…”

Her cheeks puffed. Her eyes crossed. A swirl of sparkles started to orbit her like glittery danger signs.

“Hheeehhh!"

Miles took cover behind the couch-turned-bread-loaf.

"Luna, just sneeze—”

“HHUAAAHH-KSSHOOOO!!”

The sneeze detonated with apocalyptic flair.

A boom shook the apartment, windows fogged with frost, and the air rippled with pure, unfiltered witchcraft. Bookshelves pirouetted like ballerinas, the ceiling fan morphed into a sunflower mid-spin, and the floor briefly turned into a field of daisies before snapping back with a bounce.

When the dust—and flower petals—settled, Miles peeked over the bread couch.

Luna was slumped forward, hair now glowing faintly purple, eyes watering.

She groaned.

“Okay. That… might’ve caused a dimensional hiccup. Did anything… vanish?”

Miles scanned the room.

"Only my soul. Briefly. But I think it came back.”

She flopped onto the couch.

“This is the worst cold in the history of colds.”

Miles sat next to her, carefully avoiding the half-buttered armrest.

“Nope. It’s the most magical cold in history.”

She gave him a weak smile, and he tucked her under his arm.

“No more holding them in,” he said. “You gotta let them go. For science. For safety. For the mailbox.”

Luna chuckled tiredly.

“Deal.”

Somewhere upstairs, the cat meowed in fluent French. Neither of them questioned it.

They just held each other close, letting the moment settle—quiet, warm, and only mildly chaotic.

Until Luna’s nose twitched again.

~*~

Miles felt it before she said a word.

A low hum in the air, the slight flicker of the lights, and that ominous twitch in Luna’s nose—like a storm brewing behind her eyes. He turned his head slowly to see her sitting very, very still on the couch, locked in an intense battle with her own face.

“Oh no,” he muttered, already pushing the candlesticks farther from the edge of the table.

Luna’s breath hitched. Her shoulders rose.

“Hhhuhh… Huhhh!”

Her eyes fluttered closed. The tip of her nose twitched violently.

“Not… again…” she groaned, sniffling hard. “I just got the couch reformed from bread!”

Her hands glowed faintly as she clenched her fists, trying to steady the surge of magic building inside her like a pressure valve about to burst. A halo of pinkish-blue sparks danced around her.

Miles crouched behind a nearby potted plant—already singed from the last sneeze.

“Hhhuhhh… Huh-huh...HUUHHH!!… oh nooo it’s stuck…”

The sneeze teetered on the edge of reality—nearly there, not quite, the slow tension of inevitability growing thicker with each ragged inhale.

Luna’s whole body trembled. She waved one hand wildly in front of her face, trying to distract her nose.

“D-don’t… do it…”

Miles peeked over the ficus.

“Luna, love, you’re glowing like a cursed lantern. Just sneeze! You’re going to rupture the spell lattice!”

“Huuuhh… uh-haaahh! Nnngghhh...Huhhhh!”

A candle burst into flame on its own. The couch cushion began vibrating.

Then, finally...

“HURRRRAAASSSHHHOO!!”

The sneeze exploded like a sonic boom, and magic tore through the room in a swirling torrent of colors, light, and unexpected weather.

The bookshelf was sucked into a mini tornado. The curtains turned into snakes and then immediately into scarves. The fridge levitated six inches and sang two lines of an old sea shanty before slamming back down.

Miles flew backward—gracefully, somehow—and landed on the couch, which had now become a very polite goose.

“Well. That was new.”

Luna was sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by floating tissues, glowing faintly gold and blinking up at the ceiling.

“...I think I just made contact with the Moon Goddess.”

Miles groaned and sat up.

“Did she say anything useful?”

Luna sniffled.

“She said, ‘Bless you.’”

He started to laugh, and she joined him weakly, their voices echoing through the mildly post-apocalyptic living room.

Eventually, she rolled over, coughing into her elbow.

“Miles?”

“Yeah?”

“If I sneeze again… and summon a ghost army… can you tell them to go home?”

“Only if they’re polite. I don’t deal with rude phantoms.”

Luna smiled as another sneeze threatened at the edge of her senses. She groaned into her sleeve.

“It’s not over, is it?”

Miles stood up, dusted off confetti that hadn’t existed seconds ago, and offered her his hand.

“Not even close. But we’re in this together. Now come on—let’s reinforce the windows before round three.”

She took his hand, and the room hummed once more.

~*~

Luna sat upright on the now-mostly-normal couch, her entire face frozen in pre-sneeze purgatory.

“Hhuhh… huhhh-uhhh… Huhhh…!”

Her head tilted back, breath hitching, nostrils flaring helplessly. Her eyelids fluttered as magical energy began to crackle in the air again—picture frames tilted, spoons rattled in the kitchen drawer, and the floor shimmered faintly with runes.

But the sneeze wouldn’t come.

“Ughhh… it’s stuck!” Luna groaned through clenched teeth. “I can feel it just sitting there… taunting me…”

She rubbed at her nose furiously, glaring cross-eyed at it as if pure anger could force the sneeze out.

Miles, sitting cautiously beside her with a fire extinguisher and a charm of anti-poltergeist defense, watched her struggle for a moment before leaning forward.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Time for drastic measures.”

Her eyes widened.

“Miles, don’t you dare—”

Too late.

He reached out and gave the tip of her twitching nose the gentlest, most deliberate little boop.

Luna gasped.

“Miles, I swear if that sets off a d-dimensi—Hhhuhhh!”

The touch had been the final straw.

“HUUHHH-KSSHHHOOOO!!!”

A spectacular sneeze burst from her, shaking the walls. Magic exploded outward in a multicolored shockwave, harmless but dazzling—like someone had lit fireworks inside a glitter factory. A wardrobe opened and closed itself rapidly, a floating broom spun in circles like a confused puppy, and a ghost briefly popped into existence just to say, “Bless you,” before vanishing again.

Miles sat blinking in the middle of the chaos, hair full of glitter and one sock now inexplicably on his hand.

Luna collapsed against him, panting.

“I… needed that.”

“I can tell,” he said, patting her head. “That sneeze had range. My ancestors just flinched.”

She groaned and buried her face in his chest.

“I’m so sorry…”

He smiled, brushing a strand of glowing hair from her forehead.

“Luna. You’re a brilliant, powerful witch with sneeze-triggered storm magic. There’s literally no one else I’d rather nurse through a cold.”

She sniffled, voice muffled.

“Even if I turned your coffee mug into a frog this morning?”

“Especially because of that,” he said. “He’s very polite.”

Luna laughed, wheezed, then hiccuped—and Miles reached reflexively for the anti-sneeze charms.

Just in case.

~*~

The air had finally settled.

The floating books returned to their shelves with embarrassed thuds. The couch, blessedly, was back to being a couch. Miles sat beside Luna, glitter still in his hair, one sock still mysteriously missing.

Luna sniffled softly.

Miles tensed, instinctively bracing for the next sneeze. He glanced around—nothing was vibrating, no sparks flew, and the walls weren’t glowing ominously. Just… a stillness. Quiet.

Then he looked at her.

Her lips were trembling. Her eyes, glassy from the cold, were now pooling with tears. She wasn’t breathing in to sneeze—she was trying not to cry.

“Oh. Oh, Luna,” he said softly, putting a warm hand on her back. “Hey…”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I ruined the living room. I scared the cat into another dimension. There’s jam in the ceiling fan, Miles.”

She covered her face with both hands, shoulders shaking.

“I can’t even have a normal cold without turning the house into a disaster zone. I’ve—snnnfff—I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

Miles’s heart cracked a little. He scooted closer and gently pulled her hands away from her face.

“Hey, hey… none of that.” His voice was calm, grounding. “Luna. You didn’t ruin anything.”

She tried to protest, but he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers.

“You’re sick,” he said gently. “You’re tired. Your magic’s on the fritz. That doesn’t make you a mess—it makes you human. Well, mostly human.”

He gave a small smile.

“With bonus elemental powers.”

She laughed weakly through her tears.

“I just… I hate feeling like might I lose control. Like I’m dangerous.”

“You’re not dangerous,” he said firmly. “You’re powerful. There’s a difference. And power can get messy sometimes—but you never use it to hurt anyone. Even your sneezes try to be polite.”

She let out a wet, shaky chuckle, dabbing at her nose with a tissue.

“Tell that to the couch-goose.”

He cupped her face gently.

“The couch-goose forgave you. And so did I. And the house. And the jam.”

She bit her lip, eyes shining.

“I love you.”

He kissed her forehead.

“I know. I love you too.”

She sniffled again, but this time it wasn’t a sneeze—just the tail end of a cry, soft and honest. She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close like she might float away again.

For a long moment, they sat there—together in the chaos, and the quiet after it.

And then…

A very tiny “Hh-kktschh!” escaped her.

Miles blinked.

The coffee table turned into a large hedgehog.

“…Okay,” he said, rubbing her back. “That one was cute.”

“Sorry,” she murmured.

“Don’t be. Just promise me one thing?”

“Hmm?”

“No sneezing during cuddles.”

She smiled into his shoulder.

"No promises.”

~*~

Luna sat curled into Miles’s chest, her cheeks still damp, her nose red and sniffling. The storm of magic and emotion had passed, but the rawness lingered, the way it does after a long, honest cry.

Miles held her tightly, his arms wrapped securely around her like a warm, human warding charm. One hand gently rubbed her back, the other cradled the back of her head, fingers brushing through the soft, silver strands of her hair. She sniffled, one last half-stifled sob wracking her body.

“Hey… shhh, babe,” Miles whispered against her temple. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

She let out a soft sigh, nestling deeper into his arms like she was trying to disappear into him.

“I-I didn’t mean to… all the stuff… I just couldn’t stop it…”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You're just sick—and even then, you’re still the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

She sniffled again, then gave a tired little huff of a laugh.

“You’re just saying that because I conjured you a six-layer cake by accident.”

He smiled.

“That helped. But no, sweetheart. I mean it.”

She tilted her head slightly, peeking up at him with teary eyes.

“Even with the sneezing? And the wind? And the exploding furniture?”

He brushed a thumb under her eye.

“Even with all of that. You’re magical, in every sense of the word. And even when everything’s flying around the room, you’re still my girl. My beautiful, powerful, sneezy witch.”

She let out a soft giggle and buried her face in his shirt again.

"You’re too good to me.”

“Nah, baby,” he whispered, rocking her gently. “I just love you. That’s all. I love you when you’re casting spells and saving forests, and I love you when you’re curled up with tissues and accidentally launching cutlery.”

She laughed again—less tired this time, more real.

He kissed her cheek, then her temple, then whispered to her.

“I’ve got you, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her voice came out small, soft, muffled against his chest.

“Promise?”

Miles tightened his arms around her.

“With all my mortal heart, I promise.”

Luna melted into him again, safe and warm, with no need to hold back the magic—or the tears.

~*~

Miles held Luna close, his fingers gently tracing soothing circles on her back as her breathing slowly evened out. The chaotic whirlwind of magic and emotion had finally quieted, leaving behind a tender, peaceful stillness between them.

He brushed a stray lock of raven hair from her damp forehead and smiled softly. For a long moment, he just listened to her soft sniffs and the gentle thump of her heartbeat against his chest.

Then, in a quiet voice, he confessed something he hadn’t dared say before.

“You know… I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

Luna blinked up at him, curious but still a little shy.

Miles hesitated, then chuckled gently.

“I think… you’re really cute when you sneeze.”

Her eyes widened, surprise mixing with a shy flush that warmed her cheeks even more.

“Cute?” she repeated, sounding almost disbelieving.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning now. “The way your nose scrunches up, your cheeks puff out, the little sparkles that always seem to flicker around you… Even when it’s causing magical mayhem, it’s kinda adorable.”

“Well, if I’m cute when I sneeze,” she teased. “Then you’re definitely crazy for putting up with it.”

Miles shrugged, kissing the tip of her nose. “Crazy for you, always.”

Luna let out a soft laugh—a real, joyful one that lit up the room—and shook her head, still leaning into him.

She smiled, her heart lighter than it had been all day.

“Anytime, babe,” he said, pulling her even closer. “Now, how about we make a deal? Next sneeze, you don’t hold it back, and I’ll catch you—literally.”

Luna laughed again, eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

“Deal,” she said.

“Thanks, baby,” she whispered.

And for the first time that day, everything felt perfectly, wonderfully normal.

~*~

Luna nestled deeper into Miles’s arms, feeling safe and warm despite the lingering tickle teasing her nose. She sniffled once, then twice, the telltale twitch starting again—slow and teasing, building like a slow crescendo.

Miles gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready, babe.”

She took a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as the magic started to swirl around her like a gentle storm, soft sparks dancing on the edge of the air.

“Hhhuhh… hhhhuhhh… huuuuhhhh!”

This time, Luna didn’t fight it.

She relaxed into the moment, letting the sneeze gather power without fear.

“Huhh...HUH-KSHHHH!!!”

With a burst of light and a rush of wind, the sneeze exploded from her in a spectacular spray of shimmering energy, despite Miles holding a tissue to her nose at the exact moment it was needed.

The curtains fluttered like wings, a nearby stack of papers danced up and pirouetted gently to the floor, and a faint scent of wildflowers filled the room.

Miles laughed, holding her close before the magic could send anything flying.

“You did it,” he said softly, brushing hair from her glowing cheeks. “No holding back.”

Luna smiled, breathless and glowing faintly.

“Yeah. And it didn’t turn the coffee table into a hedgehog.”

Miles winked.

“Progress.”

She snuggled into him, warmth blooming in her chest.

“Thanks for catching me.”

“Always, babe. Always.”

~*~

Sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a soft golden glow across the tangled blankets and spell-charred curtains. A warm breeze drifted in—though whether it was natural or conjured by accident during the night was anyone’s guess.

Miles stirred awake to a familiar, rhythmic sound.

“Huhhh...huuuhhh... HHHH-KTSCHhhhhh!!”

A gust of wind flared through the room, ruffling his hair and slamming the closet door shut with a dramatic BANG.

He blinked, groggy but unfazed, and sat up slowly.

“Morning, baby,” he said with a sleepy smile, already reaching for the tissue box on the nightstand.

Luna lay beside him, sniffling miserably under a pile of enchanted blankets, her hair a frizzy halo around her head and her nose pink from three days of sneezing. She groaned and flopped onto her back, her voice thick with congestion and self-pity.

“Still sdeezy. Still blowig stuff up.”

“Day three,” Miles said, handing her a tissue and smoothing her hair back. “You’re holding up better than the toaster.”

“I turned the mirror into a judgmental talking pancake,” she mumbled, blowing her nose. “It told me I looked puffy.”

Miles chuckled.

“Well, I think you look adorable. Even with the occasional mid-sneeze gale force wind.”

She sniffled again, and her face immediately scrunched up.

“Hhhhuhhh… HHuhhh-HUTSSCHHH!”

✨️CRACKLE.✨️

The lights flickered. A pillow exploded into confetti. Luna stared at the ceiling with deadpan exhaustion.

“That was the good pillow.”

Miles coughed out a laugh, brushing bits of confetti off his arm.

“Not anymore. It’s festive now.”

She groaned, clutching a blanket tighter around herself.

“This is never going to end, is it? I’m going to be the first witch in history to sneeze myself into the astral soup.”

Miles leaned over and kissed her forehead, warm and gentle.

“You’re going to be fine, babe. Cold spells don’t last forever. We just have to ride out the chaos—and maybe put some warding charms on the kitchen.”

Luna gave him a tired but fond look.

“Why are you still here? You should be running for your very mortal life.”

He grinned.

“Because I love you. And because I’d rather get sneezed through a few walls than be anywhere else.”

Her eyes welled up just a little—not from magic, this time—and she leaned her head against his chest.

“Still think I’m cute when I sneeze?” she murmured, barely audible.

“Cutest apocalyptic sneezer in the world,” he whispered, hugging her close. “Now c’mon, let’s survive day three together. I’ll make tea, you can try not to enchant the kettle.”

“No promises,” she mumbled, but she smiled.

~*~

The day began with cautious optimism.

Luna had managed to get out of bed without conjuring lightning, and together they had reinforced the hallway with anti-levitation charms and strategically placed pillows—just in case.

Armed with tissues, wards, and undying patience, the couple tiptoed into the kitchen.

Luna sniffled thickly, already hugging a roll of toilet paper since they'd run out of tissues.

“Maybe today will be better…”

A soft twitch wrinkled her nose.

Miles stopped mid-pour with the tea kettle. “You’re doing great, babe. But if you’re gonna sneeze, aim away from the fridge. We just re-solidified the eggs.”

“Huhhh… nnnnghhh… I—no—hhuhh… wait… I—"

She paused.

The sneeze teased, building steadily, pulling her breath in sharp, shivering gasps. Miles gently placed the kettle down and backed up with practiced grace.

“Here we go…”

“Huhhh... Aschiewww!!”

A swirl of energy burst out from her, sending tea bags flying into the air like confetti. The blender rattled and the window blinds whipped open and shut in rapid succession. The toaster glowed faintly blue and quietly burped sparks.

Luna stood blinking, dazed.

“I think I enchanted the sink to only dispense orange juice.”

Miles peeked at the faucet.

“Huh. Fresh-squeezed, too. Honestly? Not bad.”

They managed to cobble together breakfast—toast (slightly cursed), tea (now carbonated), and eggs (one of which started humming ominously before Miles gently ushered it out the window).

They sat on the couch together, eating cautiously, Luna wrapped in a blanket and blowing her nose every few minutes.

Despite the chaos, Miles never stopped smiling.

They spent the afternoon attempting low-risk activities: reading (until Luna sneezed and all the letters rearranged themselves into a cookbook), light cleaning (until she sneezed again and a duster gained sentience), and a game of cards that ended with a hand of aces flying around the room like angry birds.

“Huh...HAAH...HHHhuhhh-TSSSHhhhhh!”

✨️POP.✨️

The coffee table turned into a sleeping cat for the third time.

Miles just nodded at it.

“Welcome back, Mr. Table.”

Luna looked mortified.

“I’m so, so sor—”

“Babe,” Miles cut her off, scooping her back into his arms and brushing a kiss on her temple. “It’s okay. You’re not ruining anything. We’re just… improvising our way through magical cold season.”

She sniffled, burying her face into his chest with a groan.

“You’re too good to me.”

“It's nothing you don't deserve, babe. I'd give you the world if I could."

She smiled, and—of course—sneezed again.

“Huh-kshoo!”

✨️CRACK!✨️

A small lightning bolt zapped the ceiling.

“…Okay,” Miles said, watching the smoke rise. “Let’s mark that as the limit of indoor activities for today.”

“Can we just… lie down and pretend the world isn’t zapping?”

she asked miserably.

He nodded, already leading her back to the bedroom.

“Absolutely, baby. I’ll protect you from the scary pillows.”

They curled up together again, the storm of sneezes never fully passing, but made bearable in the warmth of shared laughter, magic, and love that somehow survived orange juice faucets and electrified throw blankets.

And through it all, no matter how many times she sneezed, Miles only held her closer.

~*~

It happened just after sunset.

The day had gone surprisingly smooth for nearly an hour—no fireballs, no enchanted forks, no talking furniture. Luna had even managed to heat soup without summoning wind spirits.

But then came the sneeze.

A big one.

“HHHHuhhh… HAARRESSHOO!!!”

The moment the sneeze exploded from her, chaos rippled through the room like a magical shockwave. The lights burst into harmless star-shaped sparks, the ceiling fan spun fast enough to achieve theoretical liftoff, and every plant in the apartment bloomed at once—violently.

The coffee table-turned-cat meowed, panicked, and scampered into the kitchen as a bookshelf folded in half and tried to eat a houseplant.

And in the center of it all, Luna stood wide-eyed and shaking, her blanket fallen to the floor, magic still crackling faintly at her fingertips.

Then, her breath hitched—but not from another sneeze.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. She turned away from Miles, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her oversized sweater, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I—I can’t do this anymore.”

Miles blinked, halfway through retrieving a floating cushion that was making its way down the hall.

“Babe?”

“I can’t…” she choked. “I keep trying to control it, and I can’t. And you’re—you're always so calm, and sweet, and mortal, and I just—what if I hurt you?”

She sank back onto the couch and wrapped her arms around herself, trembling.

“I already turned the hallway mirror into a portal last night. What happens when I sneeze and accidentally teleport you into the sun?”

Miles stepped toward her, frowning, voice soft but steady.

“Luna—”

“You’d be better off without me,” she said, her voice breaking completely. “I’m a walking disaster. I am the sneeze apocalypse. You don’t deserve to live in fear of my next spell-sneeze, or ducking under a flying armchair just to eat breakfast. You could have a normal life, Miles.”

There was a long silence.

Then Miles crossed the space between them and took her gently, but firmly, by the shoulders. His eyes met hers—warm, steady, fierce.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

She blinked at him, startled by the firmness in his voice.

“You think I’m here because I want normal?” he asked. “You think I stay because I haven’t noticed the sparks and winds and the occasional ghost bird nesting in the bathroom?”

He reached up, brushing a tear from her cheek.

“I’m here because I love you. All of you. Sneezy magic chaos and everything. You’re not a disaster, baby—you’re just a witch with a head cold, and it’s okay to not have control right now.”

“But—” she started.

“No, no buts,” he cut in gently. “You’re allowed to be sick. You’re allowed to lose control sometimes. That doesn’t mean you’re dangerous. That means you’re human. Or… mostly.”

That earned a watery laugh.

“I don’t care how many times the couch turns into poultry, or how many flowerpots become sentient,” he said, pulling her close. “I’m not leaving. I’m not scared. And I’m definitely not better off without you.”

She clung to him, crying openly now, but with a little less weight behind each tear.

He kissed her temple.

“Hey, hey, come on," he said, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "Don't cry. You're not alone in this. I’m right here, babe. Always.”

Through the storm of guilt, her heart latched onto his words like a lifeline. Slowly, she nodded, and let herself collapse into his arms, letting go of the fear—just a little.

Outside, a plant coughed gently and burped petals.

Miles didn’t even blink.

“I’ll start dinner,” he murmured. “You take a nap. I’ll enchant the oven to stay grounded this time.”

She managed a weak smile, and sniffled softly.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed her tighter.

“Always, baby. Always.”

~*~

The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, casting a soft lavender glow through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom. Fairy lights twinkled lazily above the headboard, and the faint scent of lavender tea lingered in the air.

Luna lay curled under a heavy blanket, her nose pink and twitching, a box of tissues close at hand. Miles lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Luna groaned and tried to burrow deeper into the pillow.

“Don’t lie to me. I look like a swamp creature that lost a bar fight.”

“You look like a goddess who’s slightly allergic to the mortal realm,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

She sniffled miserably.

“I still think its dangerous for you to be here," she said sadly. "My magic is all over the place. I sneezed again while you were in the bathroom and turned the toaster into a frog. It’s still ribbiting on the counter.”

Miles chuckled.

“I’ll make it my familiar.”

She gave him a watery glare.

“Don’t—hihh... hhh'KTSHHH!—tempt fate!”

A flash of violet light exploded through the room. The lamp on the nightstand wobbled, shimmered, and turned into a very confused-looking cactus wearing a tiny pair of reading glasses.

Miles raised an eyebrow.

“That one’s new.”

“I told you,” Luna groaned, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose. “I’m basically a magical biohazard right now.”

He leaned in and kissed her temple, unbothered.

“And yet, I still choose to lie in bed with you while you transfigure our furniture into botanically inclined librarians.”

Luna laughed, which immediately turned into another sneeze—this time a double.

“Ha-k’tchh! Heehh...Hehh’KTSHHhuh!”

The blanket on the top layer flared with a pulse of magic and shot straight up to the ceiling, sticking there like a startled bat. Miles flinched and blinked up at it.

'Didn't really need that extra blanker anyway."

“Ughhh,” Luna groaned, pressing her hands over her face. “I should be locked in a magical quarantine zone.”

Miles slid closer and took her hands gently in his.

“Luna, baby, stop that. You could sneeze a hurricane through the window and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her voice small.

“Even with the cactus lamp and the blanket on the ceiling?”

“Especially with those.”

There was a beat of silence, then Luna let out another laugh that turned into a sneeze - and accidentally turned the alarm clock into a squirrel.

Miles shrugged.

“Okay, that one might be a problem.”

“Don’t worry,” she sniffed, nestling her head against his chest. “If it wakes us up early, I’ll just sneeze it into a houseplant.”

Miles grinned and wrapped his arms around her.

“See? You’ve got everything under control.”

As long as she didn’t sneeze again, that was probably true. But with Miles beside her, even magical mayhem didn’t seem so bad.

~*~

Day four of her sneezy, sniffling head cold had turned her once-cozy cottage into a chaotic mess of magical misfires. Blankets floated in midair, cups turned into cats, and the teapot had developed a habit of teleporting to the roof whenever anyone mentioned tea.

“Hehh-SHHOO!”

✨️POP!✨️

The lamp beside the couch turned into a small tree with hummingbirds circling it. Luna groaned and collapsed into her mountain of pillows.

“Bless you,” said Miles gently from the kitchen. He emerged carrying a steaming bowl of soup — floating two inches above his hands for safety. His dark hair was tousled, his glasses fogged from the kitchen steam, and his expression was full of equal parts patience and awe.

Luna peeked up at him with glassy eyes.

“I feel like a disaster.”

“Okay so maybe you're a little bit of a disaster,” he said, kneeling beside her with a smile. “But you're a very cute one.”

Luna sniffled miserably.

“I can't even sneeze without hexing the furniture. Yesterday I turned your socks into goldfish.”

“I liked the goldfish.”

She blinked at him, lips twitching in a reluctant smile — just as her nose twitched with a new sneeze building.

“No, no, no—” she gasped, fanning a hand in front of ber face, but it was no use.

“Aaaahh...SHIEWW!!”

This time, the sneeze sent glittering sparks across the room, and suddenly the couch sprang up on chicken legs and sprinted into the hallway, squawking like a hen.

“Sorry,” she croaked, mortified.

Miles sighed, set the soup down (it floated politely), and sat beside her on the now-empty floor. He pulled her into his lap, unbothered by the way her hair crackled faintly with leftover magic.

“You know what I think?” he said, brushing a hand through her hair.

“That you’ve lost your mind for dating a sneezy magical biohazard?”

“I think,” he continued, ignoring her. “That this is just part of loving a witch. Cursed furniture, airborne teacups, and all.”

Luna buried her face in his hoodie.

“I turned the toaster into a duck. It keeps demanding bread.”

“I'll talk to it,” Miles said with perfect seriousness. She laughed, then groaned rubbing her temple.

“Ow. Even laughing hurts.”

“Then rest, baby girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I'll keep you warm. And if the bookshelf starts singing again, I’ll handle it.”

With a flick of her hand, Luna summoned a tissue to her nose. She sighed and leaned against him.

Maybe being sick wasn’t the worst thing in the world — as long as she had someone to catch the soup and calm the ducks.

At least until she sneezed again.

~*~

Luna sniffled and blinked blearily at the fireplace, which was now quietly burping bubbles instead of smoke.

“I think the fever’s down,” she murmured. “But my nose is starting to feel like it’s planning something.”

Miles raised an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

She gave him a pained, foreboding look.

“Like a fit.”

“No, no, no—Luna, maybe we should get you outside. Or to a magic containment field? Do you have one of those?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but—

“Aaaahhh-CHHUUH!”

✨️CRACK!✨️

A loud pop echoed through the room as the rug rolled itself into a burrito and scooted under the coffee table.

“Okay, okay,” Miles said, backing up with wide eyes. “That’s one. You good?”

Luna held up a trembling finger.

“Not… not done—huhhh… Hehh-CHHHHHuhh! Hehhh-CHHUUUHH!”

✨️ZAP!✨️

The lights flickered violet, and the bookshelf flung open like a stage curtain, revealing a group of frogs in tiny tuxedos singing barbershop harmonies.

Miles stared.

“We’re definitely not good.”

Luna was fully in the throes of it now, sniffling and squinting, nose twitching uncontrollably. She grabbed a handful of tissues, but they turned into doves and flew away as soon as she touched them.

“Hehh...TCHHHuhhh! Ehh-TCHOO! Aahh-TCCHH!”

✨️BAM! ✨️CRASH! ✨️ZING!✨️

A chandelier turned into a disco ball.

All the mugs stacked themselves into a tiny, porcelain golem who began waltzing with a coat rack, and poor Miles found himself very suddenly wearing a very frilly Victorian ball gown.

He blinked, looked down at the lace and ruffles, and sighed.

“You okay?” Luna wheezed from where she had collapsed into a pile of glitter and feathers.

“Define ‘okay,��” he said dryly, tugging at the corset strings. "I’ll survive.”

“I think it’s… done,” she whispered.

The air shimmered with residual magic. The frogs gave a final “ba-da-dum!” and vanished in a puff of pink smoke. Silence fell.

Then the sofa — now back from its chicken-legged adventure — tiptoed back into the room like a scolded dog and flopped gently to the floor.

Miles sat down beside her again, brushing her hair back.

“You good?”

Luna nodded groggily.

“I hate sneezing.”

“I kind of love it,” Miles said with a grin. “Not only are you seriously cute when you get all twitchy, but it’s like living in a cartoon dimension for five seconds.”

She gave him a long, exhausted look.

“You’re not right in the head.”

“And yet, still the sanest person in this room.”

She sneezed once more — just a small, polite tchhoo! — and a halo of butterflies circled her head before settling in her tangled hair.

Miles kissed her cheek.

“You’re magic, Luna. Even when you’re a sneezy apocalypse.”

“Stop buttering me up," she rolled her eyes, but she was smiling faintly.

"Want some tea?" He offered.

"That sounds amazing," she said gratefully. "But if the teapot’s on the roof again, I’m not flying up there.”

“Understood. I’ll negotiate with it.”

And with that, he left to find the teapot while Luna curled back into the couch, already dozing off under a blanket that had started humming lullabies.

~*~

The chaos had quieted — mostly.

Luna’s fever had broken, and she was steady enough on her feet to shuffle around the house in oversized socks and one of Miles’s hoodies that hung off her like a blanket with sleeves. The frogs were gone (probably), the rug had unrolled itself, and Miles had finally changed out of the ball gown, though he did keep the hat because it made him feel "distinguished."

By the time night rolled in, they were both exhausted.

Luna climbed into bed with a soft groan, her magic finally calm and her head only slightly full of cotton. Miles slid in beside her, lamp off, one arm wrapping around her waist as she melted into the warmth of the blankets and his chest.

“Almost survived the day,” she murmured.

“You did great. You only turned one of my shoes into a sandwich this afternoon.”

“It was pastrami. You should be grateful.”

He chuckled, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Sleep.”

But Luna’s nose had other plans.

She sat up suddenly, eyes wide.

“Uh-oh.”

Miles opened one eye.

“No. No ‘uh-oh.’ I don’t like ‘uh-oh.’”

“Tickle…” she whispered, her voice hitching as her breath caught. “Miles, move.”

He bolted out of bed just as Luna sneezed.

“HEHH...CHHHHUUUHH!! EHHHTCHHHhhhuh! HEHHHTCHHHhhhuh! Hehh–TCHHHuhh!!”

✨️BOOM!✨️

The bedroom exploded in sparkles and shimmering blue light. The bed levitated a full three feet into the air before flipping upside down like a lazy pancake and landing — somehow — perfectly intact, though now facing the opposite wall. The curtains started melting into long strands of licorice, and Miles’s pajama pants turned into… well, they looked like neon-striped lizards that slithered off toward the hallway.

He yelped, realising he was wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with red polkadots.

“That’s twice this week your sneezes have ruined my pants!” he said. He was trying to sound indignant but there was a hint of amusement there, too.

“I’m sorry!” Luna cried, now half-collapsed on the pillows, her nose red and twitching. “I can’t stop—hhuhhh… Hhhuhh-CHHH!!”

✨️ZING! ✨️POP!✨️

The floor briefly turned to water — then back again — leaving Miles soaked from the knees down. The lamp became a jellyfish again. The alarm clock developed wings and buzzed around like a mosquito.

And then, finally… stillness.

Miles stood frozen, dripping and pantless, as the jellyfish-lamp hovered serenely in the corner.

Luna flopped backward onto the bed, groaning.

“I am never getting over this cold. Just bury me in a glitter coffin and call it a day.”

Miles walked over, grabbed the largest remaining blanket (thankfully still a blanket), and wrapped her in it like a burrito.

“No coffins. You’re too powerful. We’d all die.”

“Honestly, Miles, why are you still here?” she muttered, peeking out from under the blanket. "Anyone with any sense of self-preservation would be long gone by now. I'm a safety hazard."

Miles looked down at her and smiled faintly.

“Because I’m hopelessly in love with you. Sneezes, spells, sandwich shoes and all.”

Luna sniffled, eyes glassy again — this time from something softer than illness.

“…I’m sorry about your pants.”

He shrugged.

“They had it coming.”

She giggled, curling up into his arms as he joined her on the bed.

“If I sneeze again in my sleep and you wake up with antlers, just… don’t freak out.”

“No promises.”

They lay there in the strange, cozy aftermath — under a humming blanket, beside a jellyfish lamp, surrounded by floating glitter — and somehow, despite the madness, it felt like the most peaceful place in the world.

~*~

Morning light poured through the half-licorice, half-curtain windows, casting a soft rainbow glow over the room. The upside-down bed hadn’t righted itself in the night, but neither Luna nor Miles had the energy to care. They’d fallen asleep wrapped around each other, tangled in humming blankets and surrounded by the remnants of magical chaos.

For the first time in days, Luna woke up with a clear head. Her nose wasn’t running. Her sinuses weren’t filled with cement. Her magic felt calm, settled. Controlled.

She blinked at the soft light, stretched, and inhaled deeply without sneezing. It was… glorious.

“I think,” she whispered to herself. “I’m finally better.”

A muffled groan from beside her made her turn — and there was Miles, still cocooned in a blanket, his face flushed and his nose a rosy shade of red.

He sniffled miserably.

“You think you’re better? Great. Can you magically remove the sledgehammer from inside my skull?”

Luna’s eyes widened, both in sympathy and… just a tiny bit of panic.

“Oh no. Oh, Miles…”

He groaned again and flopped onto his back.

“Everything hurts. My eyes hurt. My teeth hurt. Even my fingernails hurt.”

“You caught it,” she said softly, brushing back his hair. “I’m so sorry. You took care of me all week, and now—”

“—Now I’m dying,” he croaked. "And I want you to promise me something.”

She leaned closer, alarmed.

“Anything.”

“If I sneeze and stuff goes crazy again, just… end me. Quick. One fireball, clean shot.”

She snorted and cupped his face.

“Relax. You don’t have magic.”

“Not yet. But I’ve been exposed to, like, six metric tons of magic germs. Who knows what that does to the human body?”

Luna kissed his forehead — hot, but not alarmingly so — and tucked the blanket tighter around him.

“Well,” she said with a smile. “I guess it’s my turn to take care of you.”

“Just keep the teapot away from me," he groaned. "Its still hissing at me.”

She smirked.

“Noted.”

He sniffled loudly, wincing.

“And if my nose starts twitching like yours did yesterday, you run, Luna. You run fast.”

She paused dramatically.

“If you sneeze and accidentally turn the couch into a dragon, I’ll marry you.”

Miles cracked one eye open, managing a weak smirk.

“Tempting. But I think I’ll start with a nap and maybe... not igniting furniture.”

He rolled over with a groggy groan, pulling the blanket over his head. Luna rose, stretching for the first time in days without dizziness, and padded toward the kitchen. The licorice curtains twitched behind her. The jellyfish lamp blinked once in farewell.

As she opened the cabinet, the mugs all trembled.

“Relax,” she told them. “No spells today. Just tea.”

From the bedroom came a faint, desperate

“Haaahh...HACHOO!!”

Luna froze.

A moment passed, and then...

✨️POP!✨️

The toaster turned into a duck. It looked Luna dead in the eyes and quacked.

She sighed.

“Well. Guess somebody caught a little more than just a cold.”

[msallycat]

This is where I'll be posting my original (non fanfic) writing.

Tags will apply as there will be some things on here not everyone will want to read.