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Lenore tucked the covers higher over her head, blocking out any light that could further stoke her headache.
“Eughg”, she groaned through the wall of sinus clogging her throat.
Annabelle’s kiss had harmed more than she had intended- Lenore had collapsed moments after she’d been transported to the classroom. A day later she’d awoken to a raging fever and the inability to breathe from her nose- so that was just great.
She felt useless, stuck in bed while her friends searched for Duke and fought with Annabelle’s (recently irritable) posse. She’d tried to get up yesterday and help, much to Euladine and Berniece’s chagrin.
“Oh no, babe,” Berniece had said, shoving her exhausted self back in her room. “You are getting some proper rest. We’ll tell Ms. Poppet how you’re doing.” And, before a complaint could be made, she slammed the door, her friends ‘Byeeee’s a sour comfort.
And here she was still, stuck in bed, alone and weak. At least no one would be back until late- she’d heard murmurs of the difficult lesson today. Being seen all snotted and gross would just be salt in the wound.
She sulked in her blanket cocoon, sick and sputtering, hardly able to reach for her water. The foot traffic outside certainly hadn’t helped with her headache earlier, but at least all was quiet now. All the students were presumably in a different part of the manor, enduring whatever convoluted trials the deans came up with.
Well, until a stray few steps carried someone down the hall. Lenore stilled, hoping they’d pass her room unaware of her toiling inside, but the figure stopped right outside her door. A knocking, before- “Pet? Are you in there?”
Lenore groaned again, shifting in her mass of blankets. “Anabelle?” She croaked out, throat sore from the effort.
“It’s me- oh, pet, you sound terrible. Are you quite alright?”
Lenore tried to rise from her nest, but stumbled once her feet reached the floor. After a few shuffling steps she opened the door to a very clean, very concerned Anabelle Lee.
“Oh dear, what have I done to you?” She grasped her arms, closing the door and guiding her shaking self back to the bed. “Have you been drinking water? And what about your temperature-” She laid her cheek on Lenore's forehead- “oh- you’re burning up!” Here-”
“How… did you… get here?” Lenore interrupted, pulling away from Annabelle.
“I walked, pet.” She said, pulling a handkerchief from her blazer pocket and started dabbing at Lenore’s head.
“N-no…” Lenore dodged away from Annabelle again. “Away… from classes?”
She fussed with Lenore’s shirt collar a bit, making sure she wasn’t too hot in her bedclothes. “Today we’re studying what our specter’s truly do- and the attacks they harness. I requested to see how my death’s kiss affected you, and they obliged.” She tried once more to wipe the sweat from her forehead, but Lenore fell back onto the mattress, away.
Annabelle pulled back- “Is something the matter, pet?” After a few seconds of silence, she sat, criss-cross apple-sauce on the bed.
Lenore looked away and retreated to the corner of her mattress. Back against two walls and blanket pulled up to her nose, she felt the smallest bit more concealed.
Annabelle looked on at her, hands fiddling with handkerchief she still grasped. “Pet… you’re not… wary of me, are you?”
She peeked out from under her blanket shield, shaking her head feverishly. That, as well, did nothing good for her headache, and she stopped to rub at her neck.
“You know I never meant for you to be so- incapacitated,” she continued. “I didn’t think my ability would cause this much harm to you- I never would have done this on purpose.”
Lenore leaned forward, mouth falling open to interrupt. “No- I’m not… I believe you, I…” her voice lulled away, looking down at her own hands.
Annabelle reached out again, tenderly, as if Lenore was a timid woodland creature. “Then why do you shy away, pet?”
Her hand weaved through Lenore’s hair, her head falling forward begrudgingly to allow her more access. “I’m just… you know,” she began, clearing her throat, “I’m sick. It’s not a very flattering look.” She kept her eyes down, trying to pass the question off.
“Oh, pet. You’re sick, it's not meant to be a flattering look.” She shifted closer, pulling Lenore until she was resting against her heart. “Now- how much water have you been drinking? That cup looks fuller than it should be.”
Lenore huffed, “Couldn’t reach the water… my arms are in a sorry state. My whole body, really.”
“Oh, pet.” Annabelle frowned, guilt coating her features. She rubbed Lenore’s shoulder quickly before reaching for the glass. “Now drink- slowly, pet. It’s not going anywhere.” Lenore drained the cup and fell back down on her shoulder, nestling into her neck. Her eyes scrunched closed against her worsening headache. “You poor thing.”
Lenore whined indignantly, frowning at such an observation. Annabelle took no mind though, tucking her blanket around her shoulder. She ran her fingers through Lenore’s hair again, from the nape of her neck up. Lenore, headache pounding, sighed into the touch. She repeated the motion, soothing Lenore so that she almost fell from her shoulder.
“Come on, pet.” Annabelle murmured, laying Lenore's head in her lap. She whined at the sudden motion- Annabelle came to stroke her head in sympathy. She pressed her forehead into Annabelle’s middle, fleeing from any light that could sneak through her eyelids. She grasped the edge of her skirt in one hand, clinging to it as she drifted further from wakefulness. Annabelle continued to run her hands through Lenore’s hair, sighing as she looked upon her prone form.
She still stewed in guilt for being the reason her pet was in such a bad state. Her kiss wasn’t meant to cause such an effect. Even right after Lenore had poofed back into the classroom, Annabelle felt regret. Her Lenore- shivering and weak, still clasping the broken bell. It was a sight to behold, but one even more to process. She had realized her mistake too late- Lenore was very much not alright.
She had collapsed, unconscious under the furious, confused deans. Her friends rushed her to the infirmary- but they rushed out just as fast. Something about Duke being in danger. Thankfully, after the little stunt Ada pulled, Annabelle could stay with her, bustling around with Prospero, orbiting Lenore’s little cot. She had looked so cold, and vulnerable, she couldn't help but dismay. She had yearned to take her into her arms, rouse her, apologize for her brutality.
The days that followed were difficult to justify to her posse. Her interest in Lenore’s condition could be swept under clinical curiosity, but she’d had to work to mask her worry on Lenore’s unconscious state, and when she had awoken, her relief. It wouldn’t have been an issue if it ended there, but her following illness shook Annabelle more than she’d like to admit. The long term repercussions were fascinating- she had come close to death, after all, but her worry overshadowed her interest.
It had been three days, Lenore was bedridden. Annabelle was loath to have only snippets and speculation about her state. It was a blessing she was able to charm Ms. Poppet into letting her check up on Lenore today. Hopefully her group wouldn’t wonder too much about her insistence- but she could not help herself. Lenore was in need of care, and Annabelle would not be the one to sit on the sidelines.
Speaking of, Lenore roused slightly, coughing into Annabelle’s stomach. Annabelle patted her head and turned it toward her so she could speak. “Now, pet- did Ms. Dolly give you any medicine?”
Lenore grumbled and turned back into her stomach. “Won’t take it.” She said, voice muffled.
Annabelle stroked her head again, peering curiously. “Why ever not, pet? You need to get well- for your sake and mine.” Lenore shook her head and curled closer around her.
“I’ve had enough medicine for a lifetime, and then some.” She took Annabelle’s hand in her own. “If I never see another bottle again, it’d be too soon.”
Annabelle sighed sympathetically and squeezed her hand. “I know, pet. This isn’t ether, I would count on it.” She leaned forward, eyes on Lenore’s bedside table. “Where have you hidden it?”
Lenore grumbled in protest but didn’t hesitate. “Second drawer, behind the sewing kit.”
Annabelle stood and rustled through the cabinet a bit, turning back to a pitifully lonesome Lenore once she found it. “Come now, pet. Sit up- we don’t want you choking.” She guided the vial to her lips and cupped the back of her head as she took her due. “Now there, that wasn’t difficult, was it?”
Lenore wiped her lips and scowled, making grabby hands at her water and then Annabelle, who allowed her both. They returned resting on the bed, Lenore’s head tucked under Annabelle’s, arms secured around her middle. Annabelle would run her fingers through Lenore’s hair, whispering comforts to her, lulling her back to sleep.
They laid there together as the day passed by, restful and quiet. A sliver of comfort for each of them in these lonesome times.