From the moment Lee cracked her eyes open that morning, she knew it was going to be bad.
Oh, maybe not the day itself. It was still early enough that the sun wasn't quite blinding, but it was soft and bright and lovely. Lee didn't have any plans for the day, either. She was still working remotely, but the head office had sent out a memo about servers going down for maintenance, so she wouldn't have been able to work on anything even if she'd wanted to. Lee hadn't mentioned it to Sam, planning instead to surprise him in the morning by cuddling up closer to him instead of getting up and getting to work. No, the day stretched out before her like a gentle golden carpet, promising softness and relaxation and leisure with love.
But her head was killing Lee.
It felt like a sinus headache. There had been a long stretch of many years in her life where she'd gotten really sick about twice a year: when the weather first got cold and when the weather first got warm. But Lee hadn't gotten particularly sick last winter and, at least so far this year, she seemed to have escaped the annual springtime allergies-turned-head-cold as well. Lee closed her eyes in a wince and tried not to groan. She'd been kind of itchy and sneezy for the last week or so, but her body never gave so much as a whisper of anything worse. And now it was hitting Lee like a truck.
Lying down was becoming uncomfortable. There was a growing pressure in her forehead and behind her cheekbones and, though she still felt absolutely exhausted, Lee knew she wouldn't be able to keep lying down like this. She took a moment to bid a wistful farewell to the idea of curling up happily beside Sam and dragged herself out of bed instead.
Lee shuffled into the kitchen. It was hard to be sure, especially right now, but she thought she might have most of what she'd need to make some kind of chicken soup in her slow-cooker. Pretty much all the ingredients she had were frozen or processed, so Lee didn't hold out any hope that it'd actually have the kind of healing power that real homemade soup supposedly had, but throwing some stuff together right now would take care of dinner for tonight because she was tired and sadly, the sickness didn't change her lazy ways. Moving as quietly as she could, Lee set about measuring and mixing and starting the soup.
When she was finished, she felt marginally more awake but not much better. Today, more than ever, she was tempted just to curl up on the sofa in her pajamas and just...wallow in how awful things felt. Growing up, Lee's mother's sole rule about sick days had always been that she had to change into clothes that she hadn't slept in, even if they were simply another set of pajamas. She'd always been a big believer in setting yourself up for success, and she'd insisted that sitting around in clothes from the night before only allowed anyone to feel worse.
Lee thought of Sam. When he woke up, he'd come out of the bedroom bright-eyed and put-together, and she didn't want to think about how she'd feel in comparison to him. He never breathed a word, never gave any kind of sign, that he thought the kinds of things about her that Lee sometimes thought about herself, but who could blame her? She was a human and he was a some kind of mish mash dog and human combined with a monkey and polar bear. So she groaned and pushed herself away from the kitchen counter, heading towards the bathroom.
Lee dragged herself through her whole morning routine, adding in a painkiller for her headache and a decongestant for her sinuses, and then slipped back into the bedroom to dress. She moved as quietly as she could, but still when she stood up and tugged on the hem of her shirt, Sam was watching her through half-lidded eyes. When he saw her looking at him, he smiled. It was soft and hazy and so filled with love that it made he heart flutter in her chest.
"Morning," she mumbled. He had never looked more inviting. He was stretched out on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. His hair was mussed just so, just enough to make him look perfectly-imperfect. Despite the way she knew it'd hurt, Lee couldn't keep herself from crawling back into bed to join him. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed as she fit her body carefully along his. He wrapped one arm around her back and Lee felt him kiss her forehead.
