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Unfortunately, seizures were a possibility in Mary-Anne's everyday life. Ever since she was a child--only now, the pharmacy has once again messed up her prescription, even though Mary-Anne told them it didn't seem correct when they handed it off to her. But what did she know? The result of which inevitably sent Mary-Anne into seizure fits much more often than she would have liked.
The morning brought another fit; She had been in the kitchen with Andrew, a quiet morning shared between lovers, between friends, as he made coffee and Mary-Anne worked on some French toast. The only food he let her cook was in the kitchen. Otherwise, the kitchen was his domain, as Mary-Anne often referred to it. Mary-Anne swore he almost stabbed her with a knife one time when she offered to cook. Andrew refuses to acknowledge that such a thing has ever occurred.
Mary-Anne hardly noticed that she couldn't smell the coffee or the cooking food. The sizzling in the pan started to ring in her ears, and an all-too-familiar wave of dizziness took over. Andrew sensed the seizure before she did, flicking off the stove and taking her arms, moving her to the kitchen floor. Then he got up to grab something (maybe her emergency medicine? Mary-Anne was not sure), and this seizure moved quickly, and she wasn't conscious long enough to see him come back. She did remember reaching a hand out to him as he left, her distress taking over her- and then she blacked out.
It had been a while before she came back, not just physically. There was a tremor that hadn't left, and her tongue felt like it'd been through hell and back. Mary-Anne was sitting in the breakfast nook area. The sun shone through the drawn curtains, and a throw blanket rested over her. Andrew. Speak of the devil, he came walking over with a bowl of soup and some bread.
"Strictly liquids, darling," he remarked, "just until you're a little more here." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. He nestled beside her, holding her bowl of soup in his hands. His hazel eyes were softened as he looked at Mary-Anne with love, care, and concern.
"How're you feeling? Ravenous yet? You're usually starving after you recover."
"Yeah, I am," She admitted. She was always hungry, but it was always hard to eat because she usually bit my tongue, and it never felt great afterwards. Usually, she left a good puncture mark on it. Mary-Anne pouted at the bowl, though, or as much as she could, all things considered. She just wished she didn't have to have these seizures.
Andrew smiles sympathetically, slowly running his hand up and down her back, soothing her as she felt like a pouting child who has had their favourite toy taken away.
"Yeah, I know." He let out a breath. The last thing he wanted was for her to get upset, and yet it seemed these seizures happened much more often than not these days. "You're getting more and more of them... You need to call the pharmacy, darling."
"I did!" Mary-Anne said forcefully, upset, looking down at the soup he had brought her. "They told me that they messed up the medications when they gave them to me. I knew they were wrong and what they told me wasn't correct, but who am I to know jackshit? It's not like I've been dealing with this my entire life." She tried to take a deep breath, holding her head in her hands. Mary-Anne didn't mean to explode on Andrew. He didn't deserve that. "Sorry."
"Hey..." Andrew's face softened as she got more and more frustrated- he knew this wasn't her fault, and this time it was the damn medication's fault. He placed the soup gently on the coffee table. "Shh, hey..." Andrew pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. He understood her stress, her anger, and her helplessness. Or tried his best, anyway. Mary-Anne started crying at the frustration of it all.
"I just want my brain to be normal. I don't want to be living like this!" Mary-Anne sobbed between words.
"I know, I know, I know..." Andrew murmured, gently cradling her head against his chest, the other hand rubbing her back. Mary-Anne seemed, to him, as small and delicate as a child as she started to cry, her tears soaking up the fabric over his heart. He closed his eyes, holding her close, making himself as much of a barrier around Mary-Anne as he could.
"Thanks, Bear."
"Don't thank me, " he whispered, holding her still, his nose buried in her hair. She smelled of vanilla, honey, and coconut—his favourite smells. He kissed the crown of her head. He pulled away just enough to take in her expression, his thumb gently pressing Mary-Anne's cheek and wiping away her tears.
He knew she hated breaking down like this, but she deserved to be taken care of and held.
"But I should be thanking you. You always know what to do, and you're always so patient and understanding. And I feel like I should be doing something for you. Instead, I just seem to cause so many problems." Mary-Anne rambled off.
The words had a pang of pain going off deep within his chest. No, no, no, no. He could never let her believe that. She did so much for him, but she didn't see it. And the "causing problems" part... that wasn't her in the slightest. A seizure was a very natural condition, and he would never want Mary-Anne to feel that way. He wanted desperately to reassure her, comfort her, make her understand...
"Love, love," he murmurs, hands moving to her shoulders. "Listen to me."
Mary-Anne did her very best to look at him just as she began to cry a little more "What, Bear?"
He held eye contact with her, looking at her as intensely as he dared as he spoke, hoping she would hear him.
"You cause me no problems. You are not a burden or an inconvenience, ever. You are my lover, my best friend, and the light of my life. I chose you, I love you, and I need you. The seizures aren't your fault, and no one blames you for them—not even the pharmacy, especially not me. Do you understand me?"
Mary-Anne tried her best to remind herself of this, but sometimes, it was hard when her brain was self-sabotaging itself by whispering dark words.
"I'm trying. But sometimes," Mary-Anne took a deep breath, trying to come up with the right words. "Sometimes, it just feels like I'm trapped in my own brain. And, well, you know how long it took for me to even let you in."
It was true. It had taken months for her to come to terms that someone could love her. That someone actually wanted to be with her. "It just, sometimes, I get scared that you'll change your mind or you'll meet someone who doesn't require so much maintenance."
A deep frown formed on Andrew's face as she talked about herself like that. It hurt him, hearing her put herself down like that, like she didn't trust him, like she didn't think she was worthy of his love just because of something that was out of her control. Andrew shifted, taking her hands firmly into his own.
"I'm going to tell you this right now, in all seriousness, and you're going to listen to me: I could never change my mind, and I could never want anyone else. Ever."
"Okay," Mary-Anne sniffled after saying that, looking into his eyes. "Okay. I do trust you, Andrew, in all seriousness. I doubt myself and don't trust myself all the way." She knew he would blame himself. Somehow. He always thought it was his responsibility to fix everything.
His eyes darkened softly as she spoke. He could sense that she was telling the truth, that Mary-Anne wasn't doubting his words. But it still hurt that she doubted herself. He brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb gently stroking her skin. Andrew looked at Mary-Anne intently, leaning forward as if to get that much closer to her.
"I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You're amazing, honey," Andrew answered sincerely. Mary-Anne got curious. How did this remarkable, sweet, honest, brilliant, and kind man see her?
"How do you see me?"
"Strong and stubborn, sweet and loving. Resilient and caring, wise but gentle. Independent but also willing to be vulnerable to the people you love. Clever and funny and beautiful." He listed off just a few of the many traits she possessed that he adored and loved about her.
Andrew smiled softly before bringing his thumb down to trace her lower lip. "A blessing, a gift, a miracle... I could continue forever, and it wouldn't be enough."
Mary-Anne smiled, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. She looked at him softly. "I believe you're describing yourself, Bear."
"Me?" Andrew paused, caught off guard a little, but a grin spread across his features. He laughed softly, looking away from her, shaking his head, his hand still on her chin. He glanced at her again, and his smile softened, turning affectionate.
"Ah, no, no... I don't give myself that much credit, love. No, I think most of those descriptions go to you, not me."
"Which ones do you keep then? Hmm?" Mary-Anne questioned him, feeling a bit better. She had at least stopped crying. "The stubbornness you described? Or perhaps it was the clever, funny, and beautiful bits that you were talking about? You were describing yourself then, surely."
Andrew chuckled faintly at your cheeky tone. There it was—that playful side to her he adored. He couldn't help but smile at it and the way she made him feel. He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as if to tell her a secret.
"Ah, I'll have you know that some of those definitely described me then. Particularly the stubborn and funny bits. You know me too well... But clever and beautiful?" He smirked gently. "Don't think I didn't notice you leaving yourself out."
Mary-Anne cocked her head to the side, studying him, confused. "What do you mean?"
He smiled again at the question and the way Mary-Anne cocked her head. She looked like a curious puppy. Andrew's hand moved to the back of her neck, his thumb tracing random patterns on her skin idly, his eyes never leaving Mary-Anne's face.
"You left out stubborn, sweet, and the "willing to be vulnerable" part, love. Don't think I missed that."
"Oh, so you think you're stubborn, sweet, and 'willing to be vulnerable'," Mary-Anne concluded. "Well, I suppose it's true. People just have to listen to your discography to know those bits."
Andrew chuckled warmly at that, his laugh deep, and the corners of his eyes crinkled affectionately as he smirked at her. He pulled Mary-Anne's head down to rest it on his shoulder, his other hand moving around her waist to keep her close against him, his head resting on her own.
"Ah, maybe. But you know it's a lot more than just my lyrics, love. I'm not saying I'm perfect, far from it."
"What? The man who sleeps until noon and doesn't answer his phone or emails isn't perfect?" Mary-Anne fake gasped, pulling away to look him in the eyes. "A shocker. A true, genuine shocker."
Andrew chuckled again, gently running his fingers through her hair, a habit he had formed early in their relationship. He hummed softly, thinking her playful sarcasm was absolutely adorable. He could not imagine a day without it.
"Mm, yes, I know. You're truly dating a mess of a man, darling."
"I really am. Where did I go wrong?" Mary-Anne tapped her fingers against her chin in faux thought.
He hummed, thinking for a moment as well. His fingers continued to gently play with her hair, stroking the strands lovingly. After a pause, he spoke quietly with a note of mock seriousness, teasing her as well.
"Ah, well, the mistake was falling in love with a man who can't get out of bed before twelve and who spends hours reading in the living room and doesn't take his calls. Tragic, really."
"Tragic," Mary-Anne answered, but as she looked up at him, all she could think was the word 'lucky' as it bounced around in her tired brain. "Truly tragic."
Andrew wrapped an arm around her tighter, holding her against his chest as he sat with his back against the wall of the breakfast nook. He felt a sort of comfort like this, in each other's arms, being able to have little moments like these and just be close together and in love. He hummed quietly, his hands moving to her waist, and then caressed her shoulders idly. He glanced down at Mary-Anne, and that same comfort settled in his eyes, making his expression warm and soft.
"You know I wouldn't have you any other way, honey."
Mary-Anne studied his face. "No. And I wouldn't either, Bear."
He raised an eyebrow. Andrew paused and gently traced her skin. His voice was soft then, affectionate and with slight amusement.
"No? So you like your man stubborn and sarcastic, sleepy and lazy, and unwilling to take his calls?"
Mary-Anne let out a laugh then. It hurt her tongue to be talking this much and to laugh. But it was worth it. She would talk to him for years on end with her tongue in pain, and she would care less about it. "That is exactly what I always planned for my perfect man to be."
He laughed with her, the sound of her laughter filling his heart with happiness. If he could capture the melody of your laughter and just play and listen to that for all of eternity, he'd be happy beyond his years. But making her laugh was equally as great. He spoke with mock offence.
"Ah, you planned it, love? So you planned to fall victim to my stubborn, sarcastic, lazy personality, hmm?" Andrew started playing with her fingers. Mary-Anne tried not to smile at the sight. He always seemed to want to touch her. It just seemed to ground him.
"Shit, I guess I did."
He chuckled faintly at the response but kept his voice dramatic as he brought a hand to his heart, speaking in the same faux-offended tone.
"You see, love, that hurts a man's feelings, that does. Here I thought you just stumbled into my life by accident!"
"No, dear Andrew, I am a mastermind. I am stalking you, watching you, planning for that interaction to happen, waiting for that exact moment when you'd fall head-over-heels for me. I've had this planned from the very beginning."
Andrew gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as he feigned a heartbroken expression. He laughed again, looking at her with a sort of affectionate disbelief and exaggerated offence. Mary-Anne did her best not to laugh at his ridiculousness. But his eyes were sparkling, lit up by her words. He let out a dramatic sigh as he tried to speak through his mock sadness.
"Ah, you've truly done me in, darling. I've fallen straight into your evil trap. I am utterly ruined." Mary-Anne nodded, self-satisfied as she began to play with his fingers.
"As was my plan, naturally," she jokingly finished. Mary-Anne wasn't sure how the two went from crying to pretending she was some evil criminal mastermind, but she didn't mind.
Ah, god, he loved how she was so playful. Seeing Mary-Anne like this was refreshing after seeing her in pain and crying about feeling like she was a burden when that couldn't be further from the truth. He let out a mock sigh, shaking his head and looking at Mary-Anne with a soft, affectionate gaze. He chuckled, gently caressing her cheek, his tone light and teasing.
"Truly. You've got me wrapped around your little finger. Evil incarnate, you are." Mary-Anne resisted the urge to snort at him. She looked up at his gorgeous eyes that she loved.
"One downfall to my plan, though," She stated as if it were the most tragic thing on earth. "It seems I am wrapped around your finger as well. I fell harder than I thought possible."
Andrew scoffed, shaking his head. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your neck, speaking in a low, affectionate tone against your skin,
"Mm, a tragic downfall indeed. Poor thing."
Mary-Anne frowned. "I would be more unhappy, but you happen to be really good at cooking."
Andrew smiled at that, nuzzling your neck again, wrapping his arms around her, not wanting to let go. He spoke softly against her skin, his words slightly muffled and a little playful as he pressed gentle kisses on her neck.
"Ah, yes, the cooking. I did get your heart through your stomach, didn't I, darling? Mary-Anne hummed, almost leaning into his warm and affectionate touch.
"But I do love your mother's cooking more than you," she teased, restraining her giggles as he continued to kiss and nip at her neck.
Andrew laughed at that, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. He gently pinched her waist in a feigned form of slight offence, his lips still moving against her neck in kisses as he tried to speak in a jokingly serious tone.
"Ah, love, you're hurting my heart. How can I compete with a master chef like my mum, hmm?"
"Oh, Bear, no one can cook like your mother. I would marry her just for her cooking alone. But alas, she's already married. I already tried." Mary-Anne jested before yawning. Seizures always drained the life out of her, whether they were grand-mal or not.
Andrew's eyes softened as they always did when she started to get tired. His hands moved to gently caress her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing over her skin soothingly.
"Mm, be careful, darling. You'll start to make her an offer she won't be able to refuse, and I'll have to start getting jealous of my own mum."
Mary-Anne laughed at that. "I'm afraid she's just too in love with her husband, it seems." She frowned as she felt another yawn come. "Cuddles and movies?" She proposed, looking up at Andrew. She didn't want to end their day yet, not when they had planned a walk after breakfast—wait, hold on. Mary-Anne's mind abruptly stopped her from thinking about sleep. "Bear, please tell me you've eaten."
Andrew smiled at her fondly. He hummed as he felt her yawn and gently touched his forehead to hers.
"Mm, I have. No need to worry, love. I had breakfast when I got up, remember?" He paused, gently running a hand through her hair as he spoke again, a hint of concern in his warm voice. "And yes, cuddles and movies sounds very comforting right now, honey."
"No, we were going to make breakfast, and then I had—well"— Mary-Anne paused. She didn't like saying the word seizure because it usually caused murmurs and horror-stricken faces. "And then, well, obviously, I don't remember. But you have eaten?" She looked at the clock. It was just past five. "Breakfast and lunch?"
"Yes, love, I've eaten breakfast and lunch. I promise you I have." His expression was warm and reassuring. "Now, how about those cuddles and movies, hmm?"
Mary-Anne relaxed more and was reassured that Andrew had confirmed he had, in fact, eaten. "Sounds lovely."
He kissed her forehead and gently slid out from the breakfast nook, holding your hands and pulling Mary-Anne up with him as he spoke.
"Well, come on, then. Couch cuddles and movie time. My favorite nighttime activity." He told her.
"Odd. mine too."
He smiled at the comment, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold Mary-Anne close against him as he guided them towards the couch in the connecting living room. He sat down and tugged her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her in a comfortable and safe spot.
"Mm, I thought it might be love." He settled down on the couch with her, pulling a blanket over the two of them as they relaxed in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her torso. He let out a content sigh, leaning his head back on the couch with his eyes closed. He spoke again in a soft, soothing tone.
"Are you comfortable, love?"
"Very," Mary-Anne reassured him, looking at his contented form. If only they could stay in this little bubble forever. "You can pick the movie. We both know I won't make it through the first thirty minutes."
Andrew drew a smile, amused. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. It seemed to be his favourite spot to go. He spoke gently against your skin, sounding fond and amused.
"Oh, I know. You're usually asleep within the first ten. Are you sure you don't want to pick a movie, though?"
"I always make it through the movies!" Mary-Anne protested, fiddling with the fluffy blanket, a grumpy frown falling onto her face. "It's just when I'm really tired that I fall asleep." She ended up grumbling the last bit. "But yes, Bear, pick a movie."
He laughed gently, nuzzling her neck again as he spoke in a warm, amused tone.
"Ah, of course, love. You're always awake for the movies. Just, you know, almost always asleep by the end of them." She tried to swat him but to no avail.
He thought for a moment and then spoke again, a playful light in his eyes that mirrored the warm affection still behind them.
"Mm, how about Forrest Gump?"
"Are you making a joke?" Mary-Anne asked him, referring to the fact that Forrest also had a disability, found someone who loved him and lived through life embracing the disability. If it was a joke, Mary-Anne pulled a face, making Andrew know she wasn't impressed by it.
Andrew had picked the movie as a light-hearted joke, yes, but the second she reacted, he immediately felt awful. He hadn't actually thought through how it could be viewed as a cruel jab instead of a soft attempt at making her laugh. He tightened his arms around her waist as if expecting her to storm off. His following words were spoken instantly, in an earnest tone, as his eyes filled with remorse.
"No, love, I wasn't. It was an... ill-attempted joke. I didn't mean it like that. A different movie?"
Mary-Anne shook her head lightly, a smile pulling through. "Play the movie, Bear. And work on your jokes while you're at it."
He exhaled a breath of relief, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease as she smiled. Andrew had been genuinely worried that he had hurt her with that joke, and it was almost a relief to hear her tease him about it.
"Ah, my mistake. I'll work on my jokes better, darling."
He grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie.
As predicted, Mary-Anne fell asleep by the mark of around twenty-two minutes. Andrew could tell by how your breath had evened out, and you had gone limp in his arms. But who was to blame her? She has had so many seizures lately, and they always make her tired. Not to mention, she often forgets most of the events of the day and the days following.
Andrew let out a soft sigh, gently running a hand through her hair as he spoke to Mary-Anne quietly, even though she was asleep.
"Sleep tight, darling."