So I took “and he gets really sad” to Langst levels because I have no control.
A small case of the sniffles was nothing to Lance. He worked through it with ease, but when he woke up two days later with a throat so raw and so sore that it brought tears to his eyes, he began to second guess himself.
However, he still tried to power through, but halfway through breakfast, his weak, raspy voice gave out entirely when he was in the middle of reassuring Shiro that he just had a small cold.
He tried to talk, but all that came out was a soft squeak that left him wincing.
“Just a cold, huh?” Keith asked, one eyebrow arched in a teasing manner.
Lance huffed and poked at his throat. He cleared his throat and tried once more to respond vocally, but it was helpless and quite painful.
“You better not,” Shiro warned. “You’ll only make it worse.” He held an index finger up to his mouth, motioning for Lance to keep quiet.
Lance sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. For the remainder of breakfast, he shoved his food around his plate with his fork as the others chattered around him as if nothing was wrong.