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Luke wakes up, having no clue what time it is. He just knows it’s still dark and Paloma is still asleep next to him in bed, her body warm, her chest rising and falling with steady breathing. He can’t say the same for himself. His breathing is quick and uneven, his skin unnaturally hot with what he can only assume is a fever, and his stomach is gnawing at him, his dinner ready to make a comeback.
He slides out of bed, making sure not to disturb his cozy girlfriend, and goes to the bathroom, closing the door shut behind him. The effort of standing makes him sway and his stomach churns. He catches a glimpse of himself in the vanity mirror, his face is a pale hue of green, as if he hasn’t slept in days.
He puts a hand to his bare stomach, feeling incredibly woozy. He takes deep, calming breaths in an attempt to feel well enough to go back to bed, but he knows it’s a lost cause. He feels so sick he can barely stand. His reflection swims in front of him, his stomach lurching, and he vomits down into the sink.
“Fuck.” He mutters through the sour after taste, turning on the tap to wash his mouth out and try and clean up his mess.
“Luke?” The bathroom door creaks open, revealing a bed ruffled Paloma, squinting in the bright bathroom lights. “What’s wrong?” She crosses the small room, placing a firm hand on his back.
“Threw up.” He sighs, pushing back his matted hair. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Don’t be stupid.” She says comfortingly, rubbing small circles on his back now. “Do you think you’ll be sick again?”
“Dunno.” Luke shrugs, allowing himself to lean against her, trusting that she’ll support him. She does, wrapping both her arms around his naked torso.
“You definitely have a fever.” She comments, her voice quiet and non-judgmental.
“Come on, let’s sit down.” She pulls him over to the toilet, lowering him down to sit on the cold tile floor. “There we go.” She coos. “Much better.” She caresses Luke’s green cheek, giving him a small kiss.
“I don’t want to get you sick.” He protests, moving his face out of reach. “I feel like absolute shit.”
“You have the stomach flu, it’s to be expected.” Palo retorts, slipping her hand into his. “Besides, we share a bed, your germs are mine, baby.”
Luke can’t help but smile at her, already feeling a little better.
“Thanks.” He mutters. A moment of peace before his body draws his attention back to his rumbling stomach. He leans over the toilet bowl, Palo rubbing his back as he empties out his insides.
“All done?” She asks as he sits back against the wall, his face ghostly white and shining with sweat.
“For now.” He nods, letting his eyes close. “Now I just want to sleep.”
“Then let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” Palo stands, holding out a hand to Luke. He accepts it and she pulls him to his wobbly feet. She guides him slowly back to bed, tucking him in with a kiss on the forehead. “You’re quite feverish.” She tuts, her silhouette outlines her with her hands on her hips in the faint moonlight coming in through the window curtains.
“Don’t worry about it.” Luke mumbles, already half asleep. “Go back to bed.” Half consciously, he presses her cool hand to his face for some relief. “I’ll be fine.” He adds after a long pause.
“Sure.” Palo mutters, more so to herself.
Luke wakes up with a start, his entire body drenched with sweat and screaming at him. He bends over the side of the bed, a hand clenched over his aching stomach, and vomits into a trash bin that seems to have magically appeared during the night. Must’ve been the stomach flu fairies. Or Paloma. Probably Paloma.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Palo appears in the doorway, already dressed and bright eyed.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Luke asks, flinching as he sits up in bed, wiping his mouth with the back of his shaky hand.
“Took the day off to take care of you, idiot.” She says simply.
“I’m fine.” He argues uselessly.
“I took your temperature an hour ago. 101.7. You’re not fine.” She puts her hands on her hips. “You also just threw up again. Someone whose fine doesn’t do that.” She crosses the room and kisses his damp, ablaze forehead. “Not fine.” She tuts. “I’m gonna get you some paracetamol. I think we still have some in the cupboard.” She disappears out of the room.
Luke lays back down, the room spinning, his skin too tight around his bones. He keeps his hands clamped tight over his stomach under covers drenched in his own sweat.
“Sit up again please.” Paloma requests as she comes back into the room, two pills of paracetamol in one hand, a glass of water in the other.
Luke struggles into a sitting position, elbowing his pillows so he can still rest his head on them. She hands him the paracetamol and he puts them in his mouth, allowing Paloma to hold the water up for him. He swallows the pills, continuing to take small sips of the water as Palo runs her fingers through his hair. He comes up for air and smiles at her. She sets the glass down on the nightstand, not moving from her seat on the bed. Her hand moves down to his cheek, her skin soft and smooth against his sticky skin.
“Anything else I can get for you, love?” She asks softly. Luke melts into her touch.
“I’m okay.” He mutters. “The paracetamol is helping.”
“Do you think you can manage some breakfast? Just buttered toast, or something.”
“I dunno.” He mumbles, his stomach twisting with nausea. Palo puts a hand over Luke’s, still over his stomach. “It’s not working that well.” He swallows uncomfortably, feeling all the color drain from his face as his stomach churns.
“Here, love.” Palo picks up the trash bin and holds it close to his mouth. He gags into it, but nothing comes up. His stomach’s all empty.
“Thanks.” He mumbles. Palo puts the bin under her arm and stands.
“I’ll go clean this. Shout if you need anything.” She kisses his cheek again before leaving.
Luke sighs, reaching for his phone from the nightstand. He has several missed messages from AJ, so he opens them and immediately flinches.
“Fuck.” He mutters. He completely forgot AJ and his girlfriend, Becca, are in town and they had lunch plans. Against his better judgement, he presses the call button, putting the phone on speaker.
“Hey mate!” AJ’s voice booms around the room. “Everything alright?”
“Uh, not really, no.” Luke says, his voice weak, almost hoarse.
“What’s wrong?” AJ’s tone shifts into something more serious.
“I can’t make it to lunch. I’m really ill.” He explains, wincing at how pathetic he sounds. “Palo took off work and everything.” He continues, not fully knowing why. “I’m really sorry.”
“Mate, it’s fine. Do you need us to bring you anything?” AJ asks, a siren sounding somewhere in the distance on his end.
“Nah.” Luke shakes his head, even though this isn’t a video call. His mind is too full of fog. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Dude, of course. You feel better, okay? And call if you need anything.”
“Will do.” Luke smiles to himself, feeling warm and fuzzy in place of the knot in his stomach.
He hangs up the phone and sighs, settling deeper into his pillows, his eyes drooping shut.
He wakes up to the sound of familiar voices drifting down the hall. He pulls the covers off of himself, willing himself to stand. As soon as he puts weight on his feet the room starts to spin and he has to sit back down.
“Do you mind if I come and say hi?” AJ’s voice echoes through the house.
“Of course.” Paloma says, their footsteps getting closer.
Luke lays back down, keeping the covers off, suddenly very aware that he doesn’t have a shirt on and is sweating like he just ran a marathon.
AJ and Palo come into the room together, Palo carrying a plate with toast slathered in butter. AJ smiles when he sees Luke.
“Hey mate.” He leans on the doorframe as Paloma goes to Luke’s side, forcing the plate into his hands.
“You have to eat something.” She whispers so AJ can’t hear, planting a kiss on his forehead. “You boys talk as long as you like.” She says, turning to AJ before disappearing again.
“Sorry to just show up like this.” AJ says sheepishly.
“You’re welcome any time.” Luke replies, adjusting on the bed so he can eat his toast, but the smell is making his stomach hurt. He slept off the paracetamol.
“Becca sends her love.” AJ says, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. They’re both quiet for a second before he speaks again. “You really don’t look well. How long have you been feeling ill?”
Luke tries to think back, his mind still foggy.
“I think around last night. Palo asked if I wanted to go get ice cream and I was too tired to.” He answers thoughtfully, setting the plate of toast on the nightstand. He notices AJ eyeing it.
“Aren’t you gonna eat that?” He asks, his voice more gentle than usual.
“Not right now.” Luke shakes his head. “Just the thought makes me feel sick.” He double checks the trash bin is still by his bed just in case.
“Want more paracetamol?” AJ offers.
“Who are you? My doctor?” Luke laughs for the first time all day.
“I want you to feel better.” AJ shrugs with a smile. “I brought some soup over.” He continues. “Canned, not fresh.”
“I assumed.” Luke nods. “Who brings homemade soup with them on vacation?”
“You’d be surprised.” AJ laughs.
They settle into a comfortable silence, letting everything hang in the air between them, not needing to be said to be known.
“I should head out.” AJ says finally, patting Luke’s leg. “Wow you’re warm.” He flinches back. “It’s radiating off you, dude.”
“Yeah.” Luke sighs, curling up into a more comfortable position. “Palo’s been fussing about it.” He yawns, the smell of the toast beside him making the room spin. AJ’s face goes out of focus. “Can’t say I blame her though.” He holds back a gag, not having the energy to lean over the bed and aim for the trash. He gags again, screwing his eyes shut.
“Luke?” Palo’s voice comes down the hall, high pitched and worried. “Everything okay in there?”
“I think he’s gonna be sick, Palo!” AJ calls, rushing out of the room only to come back seconds later with Paloma at his heels. She helps Luke sit up, rubbing his back as he gasps shakily, unable to make anything come up.
“Sorry.” He exhales, all the color gone from his face. “It’s the smell of the toast.” He holds his stomach, everything hurting. “I can’t-” He pitches forward, throwing up the water from earlier into the bucket.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Paloma coos softly, a firm hand on his feverish skin, grounding him. “You’re alright.” Luke feels her turn to AJ. “Thanks for stopping by. I think it’s best if he just rests now.”
“Yeah.” AJ replies hoarsely. Luke catches a glimpse of his pale, worried face out of the corner of his eye. “Feel better, mate.”
“Bye.” Luke rasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. AJ leaves and Luke falls back onto his pillow, breathing like he just ran a marathon from his bed. Palo cups his face with her soft hands, her face sunken in worry. He sees tears in her eyes.
“Hey.” He whispers, trying to sound comforting. “Hey, I’m okay.” He attempts to smile, but he’s too tired to manage it.
“I know.” She mutters. “I know. I just worry.” She wipes a tear away from her cheek. “I love you.” He takes her hand, holding it in his.
“I love you too.”
“And I’m sorry I don’t know how to make it stop.” Another few tears roll down her face, ignoring them this time. “I’m sorry I don’t know how to fix it.” She’s crying freely now.
“Hey, hey, Palo.” Luke shakes his head, not caring that even the slightest movement makes him dizzy. “You don’t have to make it stop. You’re doing plenty. I love you.”
She wipes at her eyes, hiccuping as she nods in understanding.
“I love you too.” She sniffs. “I just- I feel- I dunno, I feel guilty? Like you’re suffering because I’m inadequate as a caretaker.” She inhales sharply, letting it out slowly. “Sorry, I know that’s stupid.”
“You’re feelings aren’t stupid.” Luke pushes himself up, locking their hands together in his lap.
“You’re really sweaty.” She laughs through a fresh wave of tears.
“And it’s not your fault.” Luke says firmly, leaving no room for doubt. “People get sick. It’s unfortunate but it’s true. And I will get better. It’s just the stomach flu.” He presses his forehead against hers. “You’re the best girlfriend in the world, Palo. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.”
“You mean it?” She half hiccups, half sobs. Luke wraps her into a hug, holding her to his chest.
“I mean it.” He mutters. A quiet promise that belongs solely to them. “I really mean it.”
Luke decides to take a shower while Paloma puts fresh sheets on the bed. She comes into the bathroom to rub his back when he bends double, his body attempting to throw up food that doesn’t exist and she helps him into some fresh pajamas, tossing his wet hair with a loving smile.
“All better.” She glows, kissing his damp cheek. “Or at least, much less green.”
“At this point, I’ll take it.” Luke sighs, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I’m so tired.” He whines like a child. Palo embraces him, kissing the side of his head.
“Then let’s get you back to bed.” She guides him back to the bedroom, making him sit down as she turns down the fresh sheets, fluffing the pillows. He crawls into bed gratefully, everything aching but slightly less nauseous. He’s grateful for the small win.
“Think we could try a late lunch? Or would you rather sleep?” She asks, eyeing him carefully.
Luke’s stomach growls in response, finally aware he hasn’t eaten since last night. And even that wasn’t a lot since he had started feeling poorly around dinner time.
“AJ’s soup please.” He says, half sitting up against his pillows. The cool linens feel great on his burning skin. “But a small portion.” He adds as Palo exits the room, a woman on a mission. Luke’s heart twists as the image of her crying flashes in his mind. He needs to try really hard to get better as soon as possible so she can stop stressing.
She deserves to be happy more than anyone. Sometimes he doesn’t believe he deserves her.
Palo comes back quickly with a bowl of soup, some plain bread and a ginger ale on a tray. She sets it down in front of him, pairing it with a simple cheek kiss.
“AJ also brought over ginger ale.” She explains. “He was really worried when he got here. He said you sounded awful over the phone.”
“I wonder why.” Luke jokes, making Palo laugh.
“I see you’re feeling better.” She remarks cheerfully.
“Trying to.” Luke nods, looking at the food in front of him as anxiety fills him to the bring. What if he throws it all up immediately? What if he takes one bite and gets so sick he can’t stop? If any of that happened Palo would blame herself. She can’t blame herself.
“Hey.” Palo sits down on the bed, her face taught with worry. “Breathe. You’re scaring me.”
“Sorry.” Luke gasps, realizing he forgot to take a breath. “Just- after the toast this morning. I guess I’m scared.” He exhales shakily, giving his best smile to Paloma in a feeble attempt to show that he’s really okay.
“I’m here in case you throw up.” She says firmly. No room for doubt.
Luke carefully lifts a spoonful of soup to his chapped lips, immediately burning his tongue. But he doesn’t feel sick. He almost feels better. Less shaky, less like something’s missing.
Before long, he’s finished the whole bowl, getting brave and dipping the bread into the broth. Palo lays down on her side of the bed, watching him silently with worried eyes. When he’s done she takes the tray, setting it on the floor and curling up against his heater body.
“All better?”
“All better.” He nods in confirmation.
“Good.” She curls her hand around his, interlocking their fingers. “I’m glad we could get something in you.”
“I just hope it doesn’t come back up.” Luke grimaces at the thought, his free hand instinctively going to his stomach.
“If it does, I’m here.” She mumbles, resting her head on his shoulder like the final piece of the puzzle. With one touch, he’s whole again.
To both his surprise and delight, his lunch does not make a reappearance. Instead, finds himself on the couch, cozied up under three blankets using Palo as his pillow, her playing with his hair, as they watch his favorite movie, Rental Family.
“Why’d you have to pick this one?” Palo whines. “It’s so sad.”
“Well, when you inevitably get the stomach flu from me we can watch what you want.” He replies simply.
“Fair enough.” Palo sighs, bringing her hands down so they fall around his shoulders in a loose hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” She nuzzles into his, now messy, hair.
“Thanks to you.” He reminds her, leaning into her touch.
“And AJ’s soup.” She adds.
“And that shower.” Luke laughs. “It washed all the grossness off.”
“You could never be gross.” Palo pouts.
“Not even when I’m hunched over the toilet spewing my guts out, covered in sweat with a high-ass fever?” Luke asks, tilting his head to look Palo in the eye. She shrugs.
“Not to me.” Is all she says before nuzzling back into his hair like a bird in a nest, or a cat in a warm ray of sunshine. They’re each other’s natural habitats.
Eventually Luke dozes off, ready for bed and Palo lays down on the couch so he can lay on top of her. The house is quiet, the only sounds being the cars outside and the hum of the refrigerator. She works her fingers through his hair again, feeling every strand as if for the first time. Luke smiles in his sleep, feeling Paloma’s steady heartbeat against him. Nothing hurts, he’s not nauseous. It’s just a peaceful evening. As if nothing ever happened and they’ve just been here the whole time.