𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒
Newly engaged couple Sierra and Nick were eager to graduate college and move in together-finally starting their happily ever after.
But life isn't...
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"Can I help you, sweetheart?" John greets me as I stagger through the door, weighted down with bags. "Oh mylanta, what happened to you?"
"Don't ask," I chortle as he scans my matted hair and damp clothing. "Can you please hit the elevator for me? I'll explain tomorrow. I have a sick sweetheart to care for upstairs."
Nicholas is still sleeping when I enter the bedroom, toweling my hair from my shower's aftermath. Chicken noodle soup simmers on the stove, and I tie my hair up high, readying to join him for post-recovery. Today calls for snuggles and kindness.
Pursing my lips as I scour through my collection of books on my nightstand. Since Taylor set a mood for captivating and haunting for me right before the Great Soapy Incident of 2020, I settle on Addie the maid's origin story, "Before She Ruled" by amelierhys.
Nick rolls over at some point, smiling at me, but still could use another twelve hours of sleep. His facial hair is cute and scruffy, his hair tousled, but some color has returned to his face. "Cute bedhead, baby. Are you hungry, or can I get you anything?"
"All my muscles hurt," he murmurs.
"You want more medicine and water? I can draw you a bath with epsom salt if you want."
"Yes," he sighs. As I scoot closer, he gives me another cute smile. "Please."
I lean down on him and tickle his neck with my lips. "There's already water and medicine next to you, I'll be back in a moment."
While the bath fills, I walk back and offer to help him up. He sways a little while attempting to stand. "I'll brave it," he says, smiling tenderly before walking stiffly toward the bathroom.
First straightening his blankets, I flip the pillow then follow him to the bathroom, halting in the doorway. "Want me to wash your hair?"
He grins boyishly with an eager nod, and I manuever behind him to rest at the edge of the tub. Warm water envelops my feet as I dip them in, and Nicholas rest his back against my legs.
He groans and squirms while I lather his hair, then rinse. "It's peculiar; I feel like hell, but also, you make me horny."
Five minutes later, I reenter the room with a bowl of soup. I perch on the edge of the tub, offering him tiny bites while he soaks. After the tenth bite, Nicholas tilts his head before laying it back and slides his eyes shut. "Thanks, baby, I can't—I can't eat anymore."
"Alright, can I get you anything else?"
"Do you mind handing me my phone?"
"Here you are, careful now," I say, bending to kiss his lips once before leaving to clean the bowl and dishes.
While Nicholas crawls back into bed, I lose myself in a rhythm of cleaning up the clutter I inevitably leave behind daily. The cat sometimes darts out to play, attempting to stick my feet with her paws, and I manage to scoop her up in a hug. "Hey, you frisky goofball," I say, booping her nose as a text tone sounds from the coffee table.
