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Taking care of a sick and frail Asaba Harumasa was something that you'd been used to for a long time. You were more than okay with taking care of the man; there had been so many times where you'd doted on him previously.
You'd been with him for a long time too: evident by the precious ring that gleamed proudly on your finger. You loved your husband, and you'd do anything to make sure he was doing as well as he possibly could be. You'd been with him through thick and thin: you'd shared deep secrets, cheered each other on through your euphoric highs, and comforted one another when you were going through dreadful lows. You know this man.
And right now, you were intertwined with him, limbs tangled together like a serving of spaghetti. You giggled, looking down at the man who was currently asleep, calm, muscles on his face twitching ever so slightly every now and then. You reached out for his unkempt hair, gently letting the dark strands flow through your fingers.
Then, his eyes slowly flutter open.
But, instead of him immediately greeting you, like he normally would do on a morning as soft and tender as this one, he sniffles. Once.
Suddenly, he coughs, his hand immediately shooting up to his face, warmth retracting from your body as his arm moves closer to his own.
Your hand cups your husband's cheek, your thumb tenderly rubbing across it. "Harumasa, love, are you okay?"
"Mmh," he mumbles, his hand going to his head as he slightly pout, "well… I'm feeling kinda dizzy… and my head hurts like hell. I think I might just have a fever."
Your hand moves from his cheek to his forehead, and your face gets closer to his than it already was. His head did feel slightly warmer than usual, true. He didn't look too ill, though. He wasn't sweating, his face wasn't overly flushed, and though it was true that his head was a little warmer than usual, he wasn't as hot as he would be when he really did have fevers.
Strange, you think to yourself. Could he be playing it up?
"You do seem a bit sick… but is it really fever levels of bad?"
"Yes!" He cries out, "does my beloved really not believe me?"
You let out a breathy sigh, giggling to yourself. "Of course I do, Harumasa. Somewhat. Tell you what, I'll call you in sick, hm? And I'll make you some soup to help."
You stroke his head, once again playing with the messy wisps of hair that dangled across that charming face of his.
You sluggishly leave the bundles of sheets and blankets, ignoring Harumasa's needy groans and pleas to “stay in bed with him a little more!", quickly popping back in your shared bedroom to hand him a thermometer to take his temperature with, then leaving again to prepare him his first meal of the day.
The morning feels surreal in a way: your apartment feels like it's been draped in a never-changing, dreamy veil of time. It all feels satisfyingly slow and still, the only sounds in the kitchen consisting of the slow boil of the rich, flavourful tomato soup you were preparing, the melodic trilling of birdsong, and the soft 'clang!' of utensils as you lifted them up and then dropped them in the sink. New Eridu's sun peeked through the curtains, smiling at you, painting the areas around you in a soft iridescent morning glow. The dawn sky was making itself known, its colour dipping from an almost pastel cerulean to a custard yellow. Hazy, but beautiful nonetheless. This scene was so wonderful; you wish that you could stay in this moment forever.
Soon after, you poured out the tomato soup. Rich in flavour, not hard to swallow, but still a hearty and filling meal. It wasn't sweet, but it wasn't bitter either, Harumasa wouldn't mind. You were sure. Though he most definitely had some water on his bed-stand due to having to routinely consume different pills daily, you made sure to carry an extra glass of water with you on a tray before adding your own serving of soup, and a drink for yourself.
You shuffle slowly, heading back to your bedroom, where Harumasa laid in bed, looking no different from how he did when he woke up. He jolts up a bit too quickly for someone who seemed to have a dire fever, and turns to you, an awkward expression on his face, and a thermometer in hand.
"Your meal," you state softly, sliding the tray on his lap as you take the thermometer from him, "eat up, my love. Feel better soon."
You study the thermometer, your eyes going up and up. You looked at Harumasa with an owlish glance, then looked back at the thermometer. Then at him again, then the thermometer one last time to confirm that you were, in fact, seeing a sky-high number the object. Should it really be this high?
"This looks a lot worse than I thought," you murmur, squinting when the thermometer brightly gleams at you, with a bright white light behind it that certainly did not belong to the sun. You move the thermometer and instantly squint when the harsh light from the ceiling light bulb hits your eyes.
"Haru, love," you begin, "when did I turn the lights on?"
Asaba Harumasa does not answer you and proceeds to stuff his face full of soup. You sigh, getting out of bed to turn off the lights, and then you join him again, keeping a safe distance from him while you take your bowl of soup.
Suspicious.
"I'll call up the workplace and tell them that you're sick… after this soup."
"Your cooking is wonderful, as always!" Harumasa cheers, placing his bowl back on the tray and patting the vacant spot next to him. "Sit closer to me, you're a bit far from the tray, aren't you?"
"But you're sick, Haru."
"My doctor would approve of this, though," he whines, "morale booster. Helps your sick lover feel better, hm?"
Your face warms when he says that, then you slowly shuffle towards him. As soon as your arms touch, he slots his head on your shoulder, keeping it there, unmoving, where it fits perfectly, like a lock and key.
"Try get some good sleep after this. You need rest."
It's not until midday, when you're preparing lunch for the two of you (chicken noodles for Harumasa, and a sandwich for yourself) that your lover tackles you from behind, producing an "eep!" noise, akin to a mouse's squeak, from your throat. His hands snake around your waist, his chin resting on top of your shoulder as he looked over it to see what you were doing.
"Harumasa!" You scold, placing your kitchen knife to the side, "you should be resting right now!"
"Can't I say hi to my beautiful wife?" He questions smugly as he smirks, holding onto you even tighter than he was before.
"Not when you seem to have a fever, no."
"But I wanna be with you!"
"You can just- just not right now! I'm cooking. You're ill. Go back to the bed, Haru."
Asaba Harumasa does not, in fact, listen, and stays with you, head remaining planted on your shoulder, beginning to hum as you attempt to resume slicing your sandwiches.
"So, [Name], I was thinking… wanna watch a movie with me? It's one I rented out from the one video store in sixth street."
"You're a bit talkative for someone who was coughing quite a bit this morning, shouldn't you be resting your throat?"
"It looks like a lighthearted watch!" your husband adds, completely ignoring your previous comment.
"If I watch this movie with you, will you go back and rest like you're supposed to be doing?" You ask, smiling at the man.
He goes silent again, staring down at the meals you'd just finished preparing, appearing to be deep in thought.
"Sure thing!"
"Let go, then. I need to move these dishes over to the couch somehow!"
Harumasa actually listens, trailing slowly behind you as you set down your lunch, and his, onto the small table in front of the couch. You flop down and your husband does the same, this time sliding his arms over you, snuggling far too close to you for your own good. Although, yes, Harumasa was very clingy with you, he would still keep his distance when he was sick. You raised your brows at him, simply smiling at the man as you fumbled around for the remote that you knew was somewhere on the couch.
"Oh, where's the videotape, Haru?"
"Mm…probably in one of the bedside drawers, I forgot to get it…"
You gently ruffle his hair, leaving your spot on the sofa to go and retrieve it. Harumasa whines once again, but you pay it no mind as you walk back to the bedroom.
You arrive there, and as you retrieve the tape, you notice the thermometer you'd used that morning on him. Thinking it'd be a good idea to use it on him again, you reach for it, and leave the room.
When you're back with Harumasa, you place the videotape into the player, sink into the couch, and into Harumasa's arms, which were already waiting for you.
The movie begins playing. He'd picked a very lighthearted movie: TreCarls. You'd definitely heard of it before, it was very childish. It wasn't something you'd expect Harumasa to pick out- not that you were judging. You found the abundance of different bangboos on the screen very adorable.
"You're clingy today, hm?" You tenderly murmur, your head ever so slightly leaning towards Harumasa's. You yourself seem to be abandoning the very rules you'd set in place for Harumasa at the start of the day, as you nestled yourself against him.
"Is there a problem with that, sweetheart? I think I'm like this all the time."
"Even when you're seriously ill?"
"Well-" he bursts into a fit of coughs for the first time since he'd come to you in the kitchenette. You pass him one of the glasses of water on the table, which he takes (having to retract his arms from your body which you find yourself slightly disappointed at, strange,) before wiping his head again. "-well. I do enjoy seeking you out when I'm feeling low. You're like a battery."
"A battery?"
At this point, the eccentric happenings of the movie are simply serving as background noise as the two of you conversed, cuddled up to each other.
"Yeah, you charge me up."
"That was a little cheesy but…cute at the same time," you laugh.
His hands wrap around you again for the nth time that day, and he hums.
You pull out the thermometer, waving it in front of your lover's eyes, "Oh! Before I forget!"
His eyes are wide, and his eyebrows are raised. You snicker to yourself; your lover looks like a surprised cat.
"Open, I need to check your temperature again."
"You already did, though…" he complains. Nonetheless, he obliges, opening his mouth, allowing you to place the thermometer in it. He closes it after, staying still, just admiring you with his radiant yellow eyes, following your focused face and all its features. Your pretty lips, which're closed, slightly pursed. Your furrowed brows, keeping that same position while you're waiting for his temperature. And your eyes, glued to the thermometer, watching the temperature slowly rise.
"You're nowhere near as hot as you were when I checked on you this morning," you noted, taking the thermometer from his mouth. "Interesting."
"Interesting indeed… can we watch the movie now?" He pleads, trying to skip around the subject.
"Whatever you'd like, my love."
Evening had arrived.
Warm golden lights from buildings below start to flicker, turning on, coming to life like fireflies in the summer. The city's skyline is dotted with lights like this, painting a pretty picture to remember in your constantly changing world. The night sky was beginning to creep into the picture frame, a deep periwinkle covering the sky, melting into a yellowy- mint green, which then blended into a deep, passionate pinky-red. The sun had just dipped behind the buildings, its golden rays gleaming fervently, trying to stay seen even though its job for the day has finished.
You and Harumasa sit on the small dining table, sitting across from each other, meals set down. You kept your word behind making easy to digest meals, this time going for some spaghetti and tomato sauce with vegetables, which you'd put extra effort into, making sure to chop the veggies up finer than you normally would.
"So," you start, playfully twirling your fork around as you gather your meal, "how was your sick day, Haru? Did you get enough rest? Did you sleep enough?"
"Well… I did get a bit of sleep," he starts, poking his food around, "but I spent a lot of time with you, and I think that's better medicine than rest."
"So, your fever's gone? No need to nap, no need to stay in bed… all you need to do is stay by my side and cling to me like a koala, huh," you tease.
"I did say that you charge me up. What, you think I'm lying?"
"I think," you begin, placing your fork back, "my precious husband was exaggerating."
"My beloved wife doesn't believe that I have a fever?"
"Your beloved wife has seen you with a fever. It was nowhere near as bad as your fevers usually are. I've always been by your side, love."
Your husband sulks. "How mean! My own wife doesn't believe me…"
You simply shake your head as you laugh, picking up your fork and eating some more food.
"You saw the thermometer this morning, didn't you? I'm telling you, I truly do have a fever!"
Right now, Harumasa sounds like he's trying to convince himself that his own (obvious) lie is true by being more dramatic. You placed your hand on your cheek, elbow slumping down on the table as you lovingly look your husband in his eyes, which desperately stare back into yours.
"Would you like to know what I think, Mr. Asaba?"
"What do you think, Mrs. Asaba?"
"I think that while I was fixing you some breakfast, you placed the thermometer up to the light this morning, which by the way, wasn't on before that."
Harumasa looks at you, then his food, and awkwardly begins to chew. "Mpfh- I just needed to find something and I couldn't- mff- see!"
"Oh, don't chew with your mouth full, love. Anyway, that would explain the thermometer not being anywhere as high as it was when I checked on you at lunch."
"My fever just got a bit better. I swear!"
"You were terribly clingy and chatty though. Super active for someone who would have a fever, no? Whenever you're that ill you're always asleep and rarely leave the bed."
"Well…" Harumasa was silenced, a knowing lopsided grin on his face.
"I do think you were a little sick though. That coughing was pretty nasty."
"Yet you hugged me regardless?" Now he's the one teasing you.
"Well, how could I say no to you?"
The two of you just sat there, eyes locked on each other, smiling, giddy, like a pair of high-schoolers that'd just fallen deep in love with each other. Your shoulders shook, and a deep, heartfelt laughter left your body. Harumasa soon joined you, his honeyed laughs mixing with your own, creating a unique yet precious melody that permeated through the home.
"I promise you though, I was actually sick," Harumasa affirms once he'd calmed down. "Maybe I was exaggerating, but I got to spend time with you, so it was worth it."
"Knew it," you giggled once more. "Just don't do it too often, m'kay?"
"…but what if I wanna spend time with you again?"
"You…"
"I really loved being with you today. I really love you," he declares, suddenly. He's still smiling, still happy, but there's seriousness within his words. "I want to be with you as much as I possibly can."
"Haru, you're so sweet," you coo. "I love you too. I'll always be here for you."
You stand up, taking your now finished plates and heading to the kitchenette.
"I'll handle these. Head to bed, I'll join you soon, promise."
"Just leave them," Harumasa tries to persuade, gently taking hold of your hand. "Leave them for tomorrow: I want to spend the remaining part of my day the way it started: you, me, in bed.”
"As you wish," you earnestly smiled, rubbing Harumasa's knuckles up and down with your thumb.
You began walking, slowly leading him from the dining table back to your shared bedroom. You encourage him to sit on his side of the bed, lifting up your covers to join him again. You look down at him, your limbs tangling together again, just like they had been tangled together in the morning: like a serving of spaghetti.
You were oh so close. You could feel his chest rise and fall, his breathing steady, but getting slower, bit by bit, as he grew accustomed to the night. His hands were on your body, not tight, but they were around you in a way that made you feel secure, a way that made you feel safe. You heard his breathing: his soft exhales and inhales as he simply looked at you with an unfathomable amount of love. You could smell him too, you were used to the faint smell of medication and disinfectant on him, it was something you'd grown used to over the many years of loving him. In a way, it had become a smell of comfort. Your own hand was up in his hair again, fiddling with the silk soft strands. Your other hand was on his face, rubbing his cheek, which he nuzzled into a little. He really was like a cat. You were linked like two locks: you were never letting go. Sweet nothings are whispered into your ears, and in return, you whisper sweet nothings back into his as the night gets later and later, and they linger and hang in the air like the stars that hung themselves in New Eridu’s sky.
"Y'know, Haru, you're going to have to work tomorrow. You're not that bad, and your sickness hasn't been getting worse," you remind.
"Well do I have to?"
"People are counting on their hero."
"I'm probably just gonna be stuck there working on paperwork, y'know?"
"You'll find a way to get out early."
"Hmm… what should I say this time?"
"Tell them that your doctor prescribed an outing with your wife as medicine."
"What if you call the office for me again?"
"Nuh-uh."
Harumasa sighs before leaning further into your hand—if that was possible— closing his eyes. He presses a kiss into it. "I'm glad I got to be with you today. Seriously."
"I'm happy I got to take care of you. You're cute, you know."
"Cute? Not cool? Not awesome?"
"You know you're both of those and more. But you were cute today. Like a kitty."
"No… I'm not a cat," he groans.
"You so are. I should start calling you kittymasa."
"Please don't."
"Okay then. I won't," you laugh.
"I don't know if I’ve said this already, but… thank you, [Name]. For letting me get away with this, and all."
"You're welcome, Haru. I love you, I'll take care of you. I'll always take care of you."
There's a shift of weight as your lover's head leaves your hand, and his head inches closer to yours, stopping for a moment, his half lidded, lazy and drowsy eyes locking with your own- as your nose touches his nose, before he closes the distance, turning his head, slowly, tenderly, lovingly, and presses his lips up against yours. His lips are pillow-soft to a mesmerising degree, it messes with your mind, making you feel fuzzy all over, it's wonderful. He pulls away, placing your hand back on his cheek, and nestles into it, finally closing his eyes, but parting his lips to say one more thing-
"Goodnight, [Name]. Thank you."