I catch her, and when I feel her body temperature, I curse.
She’s burning up, obviously running a high fever.
She’s probably been sick all day, and she didn’t even tell me.
I lay her on her side, checking that she’s breathing normally as I call up Harriet.
She should be at my apartment.
“Hi, Harriet. Can you please come down to Lily’s apartment? She just fainted, and she’s burning up. Probably a fever,” I tell her, and just a few seconds later, I hear the elevator doors opening.
When Lily stirs, I lay her across my legs, her head in my lap as I trail my fingers down her cheek. It takes a few seconds before her eyes open, and she looks a little hazy.
“Christ, Lily. Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?” I ask her, feeling my heart pound in my chest.
What if I hadn’t gotten here in time?
She could have hit her head when she fainted.
Harriet comes rushing out of the elevator, and I realise I didn’t even get to close the front door before Lily fell into my arms.
“Oh, dear. How are you?” Harriet bends down to us, feeling her temperature as Lily mumbles something about being fine.
I shake my head at the beauty in my lap.
So stubborn and independent.
Fine my ass.
I hoist her up into my arms, bridal style, before I lay her down on the couch.
“Can you get some toiletries for her? I’ll look for some clothes, then we’ll bring her to my apartment,” I tell Harriet.
When I’ve made sure Lily is okay on the couch, we get straight to work.
When I roam through Lily’s wardrobe, I don’t find anything that looks remotely comfortable.
Dresses, skirts, and jeans don’t make for the comfiest fit when you’re sick.
She’ll have to borrow something from me.
When we have what we need, we make our way up to my apartment.
It may not be the wisest choice to move her, given her current state, but it will be easier to care for her from my space.
I have several bedrooms in my apartment, but I don’t hesitate to bring her to my room.
I lay her carefully down in the bed before stroking some hair away from her face.
“I’m so hot, but I’m also freezing,” she mumbles, her eyes half-open.
I help her under the duvet.
“It’s your fever, Lily. I’ll have someone come and examine you,” I murmur.
“That’s not necessary. It’s probably just a cold, and I don’t want to be even more of a hassle,” she insists, but I don’t bother arguing with her.
I can’t believe she would say something like that.
