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Monthly Bonus Content #2—Farah Version
🕑 Added 2021-11-25 14:00:01 +0000 UTCThe inside of my head whirls until I wonder if my brain might be so sloshy it’ll start seeping out of my nose.
Why not? Everything else seems to be coming out of it. I would laugh at my own joke if my throat didn’t feel like it was made of sandpaper.
I roll my head over to look at Farah sat beside me on the bed. She stares at the TV, the colours flashing and blinking in her wide eyes, her lips parted in silent awe.
“You know, you don’t have to stay here with me while I look like this,” I say, though my chilled fingers wrap around her arm even I suggest it.
She looks to me with a brow arched. “Babe, you look like you always do. A bit snotty and sweaty, but still absolutely gorgeous.” Her kiss on my forehead helps quench the fever, the momentary relief allowing me a second to relax.
“I didn’t realise I was that gross,” I splutter through a cough.
She passes me a tissue. “You’re sick. You’re supposed to be gross. Well, from what I’ve heard. Obviously not experiencing any kind of illness, I wouldn’t know myself.” She grins at me with a wink.
I nudge my shoulder into hers. “All right. Show off.”
She tugs me closer against her, glancing across me to the side table. “You didn’t touch any of your soup.”
“I didn’t feel hungry.”
“I spent minutes of my life in front of a microwave warming that for you,” she says with a pout.
I manage a smile of my own, even if it makes my cheeks ache. “Would you have warmed it in a double boiler if I’d asked?”
She kisses my cheek this time, once again providing a euphoric second of relief from my symptoms. “For you, I would have made it from scratch.”
I chuckle, then hack out a cough.
She rubs my back as I hunch forward, and I suck in as much of a breath as I can manage, not enjoying the crackling sensation against my throat as I do.
“You all right, babe?” she asks, worry catching at the edge of her question.
I flop back against my pillows with a groan. “Not at the moment.”
“Then lay with me until you are.” She snuggles down beside me, her hand on my thigh and the other wrapped around me.
I puff out my cheeks and shrug. “That could be days.”
“Then I’ll stay for days,” she promises, leaning her head against my shoulder and kissing my neck.
I almost feel the fever break right then, my chest expanding with clear air at her touch, my brain clearing of its fog.
“Plus, you being ill gives us a legitimate excuse to laze about in bed together until you’re better.” She grins, a flicker of mischief making her eyes bright.
I cock my head to the side. “Are you just using it as an excuse to watch TV?”
She picks up the remote and flicks off the screen. “As if that thing could hold my interest when you’re right next to me.”
Warmth bubbles in my chest…and brings on another bout of coughs.
“Aw babe. Come on, eat your soup and let me pamper you.”
We settle down together again, and I pull the soup over to give it a taste, letting the liquid soothe my throat.
“It’s good,” I croak.
“Of course it is. I made it for you.” She half shrugs. “Well, you know. I warmed it.”
I gaze at her as she smiles so brightly and warmly at me, and I realise I don’t need to soup at all. She’s the only cure I need.
Comments
Jason Bond
Reading this kind of makes me want to try the F route again. That was sweet!
Raychill
This was so sweet I went back and did a play through of Fs route. Was I asleep reading it before? Is F perfect? I had butterflies reading the scene after the detective wakes up from the Murphy nightmare. 😳
