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It was the pounding in your head that woke you, closely followed by the full body chills that wracked you even though you were burrowed under the covers. When the motion of sitting up made your sinuses scream and your chest tighten until you hacked out a cough, you decided that you were well and truly sick.
You stumbled to the bathroom and rooted through the medicine cabinet until you found the thermometer, shaking violently as you stuck it under your tongue and waited. When the display read a hundred and two degrees, you grimaced and, teeth chattering, dug out some medicine.
Cursing whatever deities you could think of that there didn’t yet exist some medicine or potion to make you feel better instantly, you trudged back to bed, and then saw Farah’s form sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed. In your pain and self pity, you’d nearly forgotten you shared her bed; while your body ached and you wanted nothing more than to lie down as soon as possible, you knew your sleep wouldn’t be quiet the rest of the night. Not only would you disturb Farah and keep her up with you for the rest of the night, you’d mostly likely infect her with whatever bug you had, and deeming that too cruel to do to the woman you loved, you simply grabbed your pillow and made your way to the spare bedroom.
The sheets were horribly cold when you crawled in, only making your chills worse, and you curled up as tight as you could, praying for the inevitable sweat of fever to come quickly if only to end the constant shivering. You wanted something warm, thinking of the rice bag sitting in the living room, but the energy just to retrieve it and heat it in the microwave sounded daunting, so instead you just closed your eyes and tried to let exhaustion take you.
You teetered just on the edge of sleep for what seemed like an eternity, and just when you felt like you might just relax into sleep, the bed beside you dipped, making you jerk, a motion that made your head pound anew.
“Darling?” Farah murmured as she touched your shoulder, and even in the dark you saw her frown, her hand moving up to touch your cheek and then your forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re burning up.”
“One hundred and two, according to the thermometer,” you croaked out, and then closed your eyes against the heartbeat in your temples. “Might be the flu.”
Farah made a sympathetic noise in her throat, gently stroking back your hair. “I woke and wondered where you'd gone, then found you here. Why didn’t you come back to our bed?”
“Didn’t want to wake you,” you murmured, her gentle touch lulling you. “Or make you sick. You probably shouldn’t touch me.”
“If you think I’m not going to take care of you when you’re this sick, then you’re wrong.” There was a slight teasing note in her voice, but the heartfelt sincerity more than outweighed it, and such selfless kindness overwhelmed your sick-fragile mind until tears welled up in your eyes. You pressed your face to her thigh near you, then coughed with the effort of holding back tears, and if possible, fell in love even more as Farah gently rubbed at your back until the fit passed, murmuring comforting words while she did.
“I’m going to get a couple of things for you,” she whispered when you settled, and stroked your hair one last time. “I’ll be right back.”
When she came back with her arms full, you couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight of her, serious with concentration as she arranged her supplies on the bedside table. She sat down next to you again and you went willingly as she coaxed you on to your back, pulling the covers down to your waist. “Lift your shirt?”
“Never thought you one to cop a feel of a sick person,” you murmured as you did as told, and you smiled when she huffed out a laugh, gently pinching your side.
“See if I help you if you keep teasing me that way.”
The smell of eucalyptus and lavender hit you as she began to rub a balm on your chest, some of the tightness there easing immediately, and again the gesture had tears welling in your eyes. You relaxed underneath her light touch, allowing her to apply the balm, then to dab a bit of peppermint lotion along your sinuses and on the back of your neck, then to pull your shirt down as she helped you to ease into a sitting position.
“Have you taken any medicine yet?” she asked, and you nodded once.
“Just some of those cold pills.”
She nodded and handed you a vial. “You’ll take more later. For now, drink this.”
It tasted green, not in a bitter way, but like the green smell of the earth after a rain, though still it was overwhelming, and you had to choke down the last swallow as you handed Farah back the vial, and she nodded approvingly.
“Good. Now drink this. At least half.” She handed you a cup of water and again you obeyed, taking a few slow sips at a time as Farah arranged her things on the table. You managed three quarters of the glass before you couldn’t handle any more and handed it back.
Drowsy now from her care, you were grateful when Farah coaxed you to lie back again, carefully arranging your pillows, and then she surprised you by crawling in next to you, curving her body neatly around yours. The heat of her skin felt heavenly against your chill-wracked body, and you couldn’t help but to nestle closer even as you spoke. “What if you get sick?”
“I’ll risk it,” is all she said as she wrapped her arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of her shoulder that felt like it was made for you. Settled, you felt her reach back and grab something, and then a weight settled on the back of your neck. When the rice bag warmed with her magic, tears pricked at your eyes again, and you pressed your face deeper into her shoulder.
“I love you,” you choked out, those three little words feeling so wholly inadequate to encompass the tidal wave of love and affection and gratitude swelling inside you.
And then she kissed your temple, nuzzling you with her nose, and everything fell into place as words between you became unnecessary, but she spoke them anyway because still they rang true.
“And I love you.”