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Arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping anxiously against the cold floor of the empty hallway of an apartment complex, Zeal Ginjoka stands outside of your residence. He’d rung the buzzer beside the door only a few minutes ago, but it was a few minutes too long for his liking.
About 40 minutes prior, Zeal had called you after locking up the live house for the night. You'd been M.I.A. the whole day and to say he was worried by the end of the night was an understatement. It was odd behavior for you. Sure, you may be busy yourself from time to time, but you always tried your best to text him on your breaks or in the mornings before your day officially started. When Zeal called and it went to voicemail, he threw away all reason and beelined to your apartment.
Staring at the door in front of him, Zeal frowned and let out a quick huff. His hand reached over and his finger pressed the buzzer once again. Just like before, after a few minutes, no one came. Alright. The bartender looked upwards, arm extended above him so that his hand could scramble along the tippy top of the door frame. His fingers brushed against a smaller object and he let out a small “aha.” Taking hold of it, Zeal stared down at the spare key to your apartment.
Stepping forward, Zeal slipped the key in and cracked the door open. When he peered inside, he was met with near complete darkness. The only light came from a far away window that faced towards the city lights. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Sweetie?” The bartender called out, slipping his shoes off before he continued further down the small hallway and into the open space of your apartment.
Zeal looked around, finding himself absolutely perplexed. Were you… even home? No, no that couldn't be, he thought to himself, nibbling on the flesh of his bottom lip. He then looked over to your bedroom, seeing that the door was shut, but when he looked down, he could see that there was a small, but noticeable enough, amount of light peeking and flickering through the crack between the door and the floor. A small wave of relief washed over him. Perhaps it was just a bad day for you, then. While he encouraged you to lean on him during tough times, he knew well enough that it could be difficult for some people to do so.
Zeal approached your bedroom door, gently knocking. “Honey? Are you in there?” He called out to you. Now that he was close enough, he could hear the faint sound of a tv, “I'm sorry to drop by so suddenly… especially since it's so late. You haven't replied to me at all today, so I got worried.”
“Zeal?” The bartender heard a weak voice come from the other side of the door, followed up by an ugly cough. “You–you should go home. I don't want to get you–”
Zeal winced slightly when another terrible cough escaped you. “...are you sick?”
You let out a frustrated groan as you swallowed away the discomfort deep within your throat. Sweat clung to your skin, both from the blankets you were under and the horrible fever you were stricken with when you woke up. You forced yourself out of bed and made your way to the bedroom door, cracking it open the tiniest bit. Sniffling, you kept a tissue hovered over your mouth.
“Yes…” you replied, the congestion from your fever was now incredibly obvious to Zeal.
Zeal’s eyebrows knitted together in an expression of worry. “Are you alright? Do you need anything? You sound, um, well… rough.”
You rolled your eyes at the last part. “No, I think I'm fine… I have my medicine and tissues in here with me. I'm supposed to take another dosage in about an hour or so.”
Zeal frowned. “You should be resting… not worrying about that. Have you eaten?”
A small smile crept onto your face. Even when you sounded like a creature from a crypt, Zeal still managed to be so sweet. But now that the topic came up… when was the last time you ate?
“Uh…”
“Hm…?”
“...I don't remember.”
Zeal let out a small sigh. “Honey…”
“Listen, I didn't forget to on purpose! I just–”
You're cut off by another cough and it's then that Zeal grabs hold of the doorknob and opens the door himself. Seeing your hair disheveled and that you were still wearing the clothes you most likely woke up in, Zeal found you oddly cute in the moment. But it wasn't time for that right now. The bartender rested a hand on your head, smoothing out some of the messy parts of your hair before he cupped your cheek, using his thumb to raise your chin.
“Get some rest, yeah? I'll take care of things from here.”
Your eyes widened for a moment and you quickly shook your head. “No, no, no,” you protested, “it's alright! Really, I'm just fine! I don't want you to get sick because you took care of me…”
Zeal let out a soft chuckle. “I'm your husband. It's my responsibility to take care of you when you need it.”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “You're my boyfriend. We're not even married.”
“Not yet~!” Zeal winked and your cheeks grew warm and for the first time that day, it wasn't because of your fever. Probably.
Zeal then put his hands on your shoulders and spun you back around, nudging you slightly towards the direction of your bed.
“Now, back in bed with you! And I don't wanna see you out of it unless it's for the bathroom!” With the choice of wording, you'd think Zeal had suddenly turned into a drill sergeant.
With little argument, because you knew already that you'd get nowhere, you shuffled your way back to bed and crawled back underneath the covers. Looking back at Zeal, who stayed standing in the doorway, he gives you a loving smile.
“I'll cook up something light for you. Just stay here, yeah?” His voice was soft, hushed and his words were meaningful. You gave him a nod, “I love you, sweetie.”
Whether it was pure delirium or the fact you were just now realizing how badly you needed to see him today, you teared up at Zeal's words nonetheless. Caught off guard, the bartender’s eyes widened for a mere moment, the expression quickly being replaced by a mix of sympathy and affection. With no hesitation, he made his way to you, leaning down so that he could press a lingering kiss on your clammy forehead. He moved lower, placing another kiss on your cheek and then a final one just beside your lips.
“If you get sick—”
“It'll be worth it.”
You gave his shoulder a lighthearted swat.
“Hehe.”
After that, Zeal left you to lie down and for the following hours, you were given the best at home care one could ever ask for. Zeal absolutely refused to leave you alone in the state you were in and while you protested heavily against it, he fell asleep on your bedroom floor that night and woke up bright and early the next morning to give you your next dose of medicine. You have no idea what you did to have someone like Zeal in your life, but for all of that confusion, your happiness measured even more. You don't know what you'd do without him.