"George, can you stop babying me?"
I groaned as George tugged at me. He was going to help me get into a pair of sweatpants before the healer arrived.
George had told me to stay in bed — he could bring her up here, but I refused, wanting to wear pants before she got here.
"I am not babying you. I'm helping you get dressed seeing as you're too stubborn to just stay in bed."
He pulled me to my feet and moved my arms up to his shoulders while he crouched down with the sweatpants, guiding me to step into them.
Then he pulled them up my legs, over my arse and let go of them as they hugged my waist.
"Thank you." I said. "Now help me downstairs."
"Downstairs?"
George looked at me as I kept holding onto him. I was dizzy and scared that if I let go, I'd fall.
"Yeah. I'm not lying in bed up here when a stranger walks into our home."
"A stranger? She's a healer. I think she's seen plenty of sick people lie in bed."
"Well I won't be one of those people." I said and George laughed, shaking his head at me.
"The sofa in the entrance hall?" He asked. "Is that good enough for you, m'lady."
"Shut up." I said with a chuckle, shoving him but the moment he stumbled back, his hands leaving me, I felt the dizziness take over.
Right before my knees hit the floor, George had gotten a hold of me, supporting my weight.
"You're okay..." he whispered. "...let's get you downstairs."
I laughed as I clutched into George.
"George... I'm dying."
He scoffed at me before he hooked an arm under my knees and picked me up.
"Ha. Don't even joke about that."
I laughed again, this time against his shoulder as he walked out of the room with me in his arms.
"I love freaking you out."
"You're not freaking me out." He breathed. "You aren't dying. You just have the flu."
"People die from the flu."
"Yeah, old people, babies or weak people." He said. "You are neither of those."
I shrugged.
"Maybe it is covid. Maybe I really am dying."
"Dia—"
"I'm joking."
"It's not something to joke about." He told me. "Imagine if that was the case. Imagine if you really did die. What do you think the world would look like for me and for our kids?"
I sighed as George put me down on the sofa in the entrance hall, immediately grabbing a blanket for me.
"Do you think that's a world I want to be in?" He asked. "A world without you?"
He spread the blanket over me, then cupped my face and tilted my head back.
"Don't joke about dying." He told me seriously. "Especially not when you're ill."
I rolled my eyes as he let go of my face and walked towards the kitchen, returning shortly after with a new cup of tea for me.
"Am I still beautiful?" I smiled teasingly. "Even though I'm sick?"
