Chapter Text
Eris stared out the window while the espresso machine hummed, rich caffeine dripping down into the mug below. It was dark and rainy outside. Swollen grey clouds rolled out over the city like dirty overstretched cotton balls. Smaller wisps drifted by faster on quicker winds. The windowpane was flecked with splattered raindrops that reflected the streetlights that were flickering on early due to the gloom. A figure in a billowing windbreaker roller-bladed down the street, splashing through a puddle.
“When’s the last time you actually slept?”
Aurae’s voice made him look away from the window. She was lounging across the plush armchair in the living room, computer open on her cheap lap desk, her mug of green tea with elderberry steaming on the side table. There was an antique cherry wood desk and ergonomic chair for her to use in the office, but she rarely used it. That armchair, a worn-out relic from their first apartment, was still her favorite place to write. His attempts to get rid of it were met with stony silences.
“Last night,” he said, picking up his mug as the machine finished its work. “I remember you being there.”
“Oh, you’re counting that pitiful two hour cat nap of yours?” Aurae closed her laptop.
“I am.” Those two hours were the only ones he could claim as time spent sleeping in the last 24-36 hours, so yes, they counted. He moved over to the fridge. There were three types of creamer, all Chobani. He chose milk instead.
When he turned to the counter, his coffee was missing.
“I’ll just make another one,” he said as he closed the fridge door and regarded his wife, the thief who had absconded with his mug. He was too tired to banter about her stealing.
Aurae’s eyes darkened with concern. She set the mug down on the kitchen island as he headed for the Diletta Mio, taking a new mug from the three-tiered rack as he passed it. He couldn’t sleep right now. He had a shareholder’s meeting in the morning, along with an overseas conference call and a different meeting after lunch, a covert one about the highly illegal white collar corporate sabotage he was conducting against his father. And Rhysand was so irritating to work with in the first place, he needed time to prepare, to consider his strategies—
A cool palm pressed against his forehead, then moved to his neck. Without meaning to, Eris leaned into Aurae’s touch. “You’re freezing,” he said, frowning even though she felt amazing to him.
“Let’s fix that statement. You have a fever.”
“I do not,” he protested. He was too busy to have a fever. Besides, maybe she was the one who was sick, that would explain why her hands were so cold. He took her hand and held it between his, warming it up.
“That’s it. Bed,” she said, trying to pull her hand away. He kept it trapped. “Bed now.”
Eris pulled her against him. She was cold all over even, chilly through the thin, comfortable shorts and t-shirt she was wearing. He slipped his hand under her shirt and waistband, fingers spreading across her side. “That would be an acceptable way to warm you up, but maybe you should take something first just in case. Do we have any DayQuil?”
“You’re going to take NyQuil,” she said, sliding away from him. “And we’re not getting up to anything, you’re going to actually sleep.”
“I prefer my plan.” It would be much more satisfying. He would make sure she was satiated.
“That’s too bad since this time we’re going with mine.” Opening a cabinet, she pulled out a clear plastic container and popped off the lid. Eris walked over and leaned against the counter next to her. He wasn’t sick. She should have let him drink his espresso, take her to bed, then let him get back to work. He would’ve let her sleep while he did research. And NyQuil was out of the question, that would knock him out, he knew from previous experiences.
Their elderly golden retriever, Alphonse, hefted himself off the couch. Shaking his pale golden coat, he came over to nose Eris’ leg. While Aurae searched through their medicine box, Eris fed Alphonse, patting his grey-speckled head. Somehow he ended up sitting on the floor next to him. He was rubbing Alphonse’s ears while Alphonse wore a blissful expression when Aurae sat down next to him.
“I’ve got meds for you to take, they’re on the counter.”
“You take them.”
Aurae made a frustrated noise. Alphonse, realizing they were fighting, got up and wandered off, too old to bother with their nonsense. “I know you’re too feverish to realize this, but when you’re sick, you start acting like a petulant teenager.”
Eris had been about to argue but that was feeding into her theory. Instead, he decided to undermine it. “I really don’t feel sick, Aurae. If you want me to sleep more, that’s fine. I will, tomorrow.”
“I thought you might say that.” She held up a digital thermometer. After pressing the button, she poked it into the corner of his mouth like a cigar he didn’t want. “Under the tongue.”
“You—”
She put two fingers over his lips, widening her eyes for emphasis that he should heed her. Eris surrendered but in retribution, he pulled her into his lap, plunking his chin on top of her pale blonde head. He idly drew her hair between his fingers. After this, he was going to convince her that they should go to bed for a while so he could show her that he appreciated her concern in a delicious wicked way, then he would get his laptop. Yes. That would be good.
The thermometer dinged. Aurae didn’t even let him take it out; she reached for it before he had the chance. Almost immediately, she held it up to his face. “102.3."
“That can’t be right.”
“Are you trying to say we bought a broken thermometer?” she asked, crawling out of his lap. She grabbed his hand and began to tug, trying to get him to move. “Like I said, there are meds on the counter, but if it gets any higher, you win a trip to the ER.”
That wouldn’t do. He stayed on the floor, using his superior weight and height to make himself immovable. As least until she dug in her heels and managed to drag him a few inches by the wrist. “Aurae, the hell—”
She pulled him another inch. “Get up or I’ll slide you all the way there. We have tile or hardwood most of the way, it wouldn’t be difficult.” She neglected to mention the stairs.
Eris stood. “Maybe the thermometer actually is broken.”
“Then we’ll go to an urgent care with a not broken one. Also, your cheeks are flushed and you’re wheezy. Does your chest hurt?”
Was he wheezing? His nose had been stuffy and he’d had a headache most of the day, but that was due to the fact he hadn’t slept much and it was rainy. And if his heart had felt like it was racing something, well, he had a great deal on his plate right then. They were so close to being completely free of Beron, which he desperately needed to happen. Beron hated Aurae because he hadn’t chosen her for Eris, and he hated Eris for marrying her. He kept Eris on the board of his company and curtailed some of Eris’ businesses through threats, most of them aimed at Aurae or Lucien or one of his other brothers. At least his mother lived with Helion now. But if Beron really wanted to play dirty—
Aurae put the NyQuil pills in his hand and pushed a cup of water toward him. “You’re taking the day off tomorrow.”
Eris snorted. He swallowed the pills to make her happy.
“I can rephrase it,” she said, “You’re spending the day with me tomorrow or I’ll be extremely dramatic and call an ambulance for my incredibly sick husband.” Her scowl was laced with the threat that she would do it.
Leaning against the counter, he reached out and threaded his fingers through her hair. “You’re so hot when you’re being ridiculous.”
“See, this is how I know you’re burning up from the inside,” she said. Reaching out, she started removing the cuff links from the wrists of his dress shirt. “You never say I’m hot. You have a better vocabulary than that.”
“You are though. Hot.”
“So are you, we’re well-matched,” she said. “But right now you’re hot in a different way. The bad way.”
“That’s rude.”
When she finished his cuffs, she went for his collar, unbuttoning his shirt. “I can feel heat radiating off you.” She pressed her palms to the planes of his stomach. “Maybe you should take a cold shower.”
“No.”
“Fine, at least go to bed then.”
Eris allowed her to lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs of their downtown townhouse to the bedroom. One day, he was going to buy her a home somewhere far away from the city. He would drive into work when he needed to and work from home when he could and they would have land with forests on it and trails to roam and maybe kids, when they wanted them. If they wanted them. He wasn’t sure if he would be any good at it…the parenting.
She pushed him onto the edge of their king-sized bed. From the drawer, she lifted a pair of his loose pajama pants. She tossed them to him, and he changed. “It’s hardly even sunset,” he said, still up for a debate even though he was, possibly, beginning to believe her.
“I’m tired,” she said, “I just want to rest. Can you stay with me?”
Well…who was he to deny her. He laid back on the mattress, the high thread count sheets cool against his back. He rolled over onto his stomach. Aurae drew her fingers along his spine as she climbed in beside him.
Now that he was lying down, the fatigue caught up to Eris. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he laid his head in her lap. Aurae tossed a fleece blanket over him. She stroked his shoulders and neck. “I should get a washcloth.”
“Don’t move,” he mumbled, tightening his hold on her.
“Okay,” she said, softer, less brusque now.
He hugged her, cheek against her thigh. “I’m going to make everything better.”
“Go to sleep, Eris.” She kept up her steady, gentle, soothing touches. “You can keep saving us all the day after tomorrow, when you’re feeling better. And as long as you let me help."
“I don’t deserve—”
“Shh. Sleep.”
As he drifted off, he wondered if she knew how much he didn’t deserve her help, since she hadn’t let him finish that thought. Why she put up with him and his ever-changing and constantly growing schemes and why she worked alongside him on them, he would never understand. But she was here with him, and he couldn’t imagine what life would be like without her anymore.
Even if she was probably wrong about this imagined illness.