Chapter Three Hundred And Seventy-seven: Friends, Are we?

The third point of view:

"How do you feel babe?" Isabella asked, leaning against the restroom door with a concerned look. She didn't mean to upset his stomach, she had wanted him to enjoy her food cooked with love.

"Like my anus is on fire," He groaned in response from the toilet.

"Take it easy please," Isabella pleaded, wishing there was a way she could wave a magic ward and end the misery - she put him in. 

Her heart felt like someone had squeezed it tight, this was the first time she was this worried about someone.

She checked her phone, it was almost an hour since he went in. It had been quite an effort getting him back to the base since he literally stools almost every five minutes.

"I'm so sorry," Isabella told him sincerely. If only there was a way she could somehow take his place.

"It's alright," Pedro said from inside, "I know it's not your fault nor did you want it to end this way. You just wanted a romantic date,"