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The annoying noise started as a distant rumble, ramping up. As if an enemy army was after him to take him down. He opened an eye halfway, too weak to do more, mumbled "get away", turn towards the wall and adjusted the duvet on top. Stared at the wall, despite the utter effort to keep his eyes open. The holes in the wallpaper had started to look like Moon craters.

His empty gaze of abandoned ill person fell on the sheets with red and black geometrical shapes - like the logical riddles - find out haw many triangles there is. The sheer thought of logical riddles sharpened the pulsing pain in his temples.

He took a deep breath. Actually not! He couldn't. His nose was dysfunctional. "I'm gonna die."

He threw the duvet over his head with so much drama, that the feet got uncovered. Made some adjustments, folded himself here and there like street dancer and was ready to sail away to the kingdom of... that guy, you know... yeah, the dude from The Matrix... him Morpheus.

And there came the knocking - prolonged and tenacious. It was a tango rhythm, but Borquo couldn't pay attention or care less for that matter.

Turned towards the room again. Peeked through a hole in the carefully wound duvet like a worm out of an apple.

The impeccably ordered items on all shelves gave him a mild shock - he raised abruptly, convinced that he has fallen asleep in somebody else's room. Felt dizzy and tumbled back on the pillow.  It was indeed his own room he just needed a while to get used to his new roommate.

Knocking sounded extremely loud now, as if someone was hitting his head with a hammer.

-Come-e-eccch... in - he spoke, nearly losing his voice at the end.

-Hel-lo-o-o, is there anybody as eager as myself to see the ballet performance tonight? I know I come three hours too early, but I am just so exci-. Oh! -the jolly tone disappeared when she entered the room. - Borquo, are you ok?

-Hell no!

-O-oh.

Lina walked towards the bed with timid steps, like a little RedHood and left a hand on his frowned forehead.

-You are too warm - she remarked.

-I know. It is a bloody miracle I am not yet too cold. I am feverish, headachy, can barely breathe. And it has been like tha-a-a-a-chuut since this morning. 

-Sounds as if you have caught some kind of cold. I can get you some painkillers and make tea. Be right back. Already tomorrow you will be as good as new.

Lina dashed out. Not giving him a chance to share that in cases like his only unconditional affection, beer and chips were proven to relieve the symptoms, certainly not tea and painkillers.

She cam e back with a thermos, as if heading up in the mountain, ordered a few glasses like soldiers on the desk beside the bed, and gave him a pitiful look as he hid his nose in the end of toilet paper roll that was hired as handkerchief. Lina imagined that he had said “thank you” below his breath, deafened by the ugly sounds that followed.

Borquo rolled the wet toilet paper into a little ball, rose with effort and shot for the bin in the corner. Missed. Well, too bad. Had to take care of it as some point. If the super tidy roommate didn’t do it first.

-Well, I will now leave you to rest, cross fingers that you are back o feet later today.

-And you?

-I will check if someone else wants to join me in watching ballet.

Borquo jumped up in a surge of sudden strength that in such hard moment can only come from love or from this other thing that have nothing to do with love.

His gaze was shouting that he feels insulted. Disappointed. Misunderstood and left behind all alone in his suffering. But Lina was not looking his way. She turned away in disgust during the improvised basketball with the toilet paper ball.  

Borquo fell back helplessly.

-Sure, why not, that’s a wonderful idea. Don’t worry about me at all just leave me lying here.

-I knew you would understand. Thank you! You are a star!

And she was gone in five seconds. Borquo sighed – not only his nose, his sarcasm was dysfunctional as well.

He stayed turning in bed and cursing and disagreeing for half an hour that felt like eternity. Thereafter came two knocks on the door and a hasty loud entrance. Was it the new roommate, why would he knock?

-Hey-la-hoo – that was Dora’s voice. Apparently she also thought, she was up in the mountain. In case she was also thinking about making him tea, he would refuse abruptly and directly ask for rum instead.

-Hi Borquo. See? Now I knock before coming in. After the little hick-up the previous time…

-Do you remember- she asked after a short paus, completely bewildered by his non-adecuacy.

He didn’t want to remember. Nodded.

-What brings you here?

-My best Samarian intentions of course. I stumbled upon Lina at the entrance and she mentioned that you were not feeling well. So I came to offer you a sweat-the-cold-off interval training. It is absolutely magical. You will be as good as new in no time.

Dora set a piece of paper beneath his chin like a bib.

-I printed it out for you. High intensity intervals – fifty-five seconds work, five seconds rest.

-Five seconds? This is far beyond generous!

-As I said – high intensity, but really good. Well, I will go now. Come up to my room when you feel better.

-Sure thing – he lied.

Borquo followed her to lock the door behind her. He crawled back to his bed. Before collapsing like one of the World Trade Center towers in it he leaned over his computer, and, although he wasn't among of the most ardent DMX fans, played "What These B**ches Want From a N**ga".