He was there every time I opened my eyes, offering water or a cool rag, or helping me into the bathroom. If I’d have had the energy to be humiliated, I’d have been that and more for him seeing me in the throes of sickness. It wasn’t a good look on me, but he’d never looked at me like I was hideous or asking too much…
Because I didn’t have to ask at all.
I’d selfishly asked him to stay once, but that had been it. Everything else had been offered before I’d even had time tothink about it, and he took care of me every bit as tenderly as he might have a lover.
I didn’t deserve it.
I didn’t deserve him.
When I finally woke to a clear head, he was asleep next to me. He was curled on his side, and it looked like he’d fallen asleep waiting for me to get up again. It was the first time I’d woken to find him sleeping. Usually he was watching TV and waiting for me to wake up. It gave me a moment to watch him, and I reached out to slowly brush a few strands of hair from his face.
I breathed in deep, memorizing the sight of him there, so peaceful and beautiful as he slept. This was when he was most at peace, when he had no concerns at all and could just drift in dreamland.
I wondered what he was dreaming.
Was he dreaming about freedom? Was he back home?
Was he kissing his girlfriend?
This time, the possessive jealousy faded quickly into sadness.
I’d never really cared that I’d taken him away from his life before, but now… Now I couldn’t think about anything else. He’d lost everything, but he’d stayed when he’d had the chance to go. Had I broken him down too much? Or was there something inside of him that had begun to care for me?
I’d tried to ask, but he’d shushed me each time instead of answering… and there was a part of me that was just… happy not to know.
I thought about food, but my stomach churned in protest at the mere thought. I definitely wasn’t ready to go back to normal, but I was at least able to think about sittingup without wanting to vomit. It was a definite improvement over the past few days.
The next time I touched his hair, stroking the soft locks, he stirred. His eyes slowly fluttered open, and he offered me a sleepy smile that went straight to my heart.
He smiled at me.
It didn’t last long, but it was replaced with very real-looking concern. “Are you feeling better? I… I was worried, but I didn’t really know how to get a doctor out here…”
And that would’ve caused more problems than it would’ve solved.
“Much better,” I reassured him, touching his cheek before letting my hand fall away from his bare skin.
He was partially dressed, I realized, wearing one of my shirts. It looked ridiculous on him, but it was sort of cute, too. I liked the way he looked in it. It inhibited my view of the nude body I’d gotten used to gazing at, but it was the mark of something else that I couldn’t deny I liked.
I was so fucked.
So fucking fucked.
“I wanted to cook breakfast for you,” I said softly, “but the idea of being around food…” I grimaced and shook my head. “A little too much right now.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not really hungry anyway.”
I was used to feeding him as soon as I got up, but I realized I didn’t even know what time of day it was. Breakfast might not have even been the right meal anyway.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Are you?” he countered.
I sighed. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” I pointed out.
“Not right now,” he told me. “Right now, you’re the one who needs to be taken care of.”
“Why are you taking care of me?” I asked, unable to hold the question back any longer.
