The first thing Luna felt when she woke up was the warmth on the side of her face, cause by a ray of sun breaking through the partially drawn curtains. The next thing she felt was Carl's arm flex slightly around her waist, and his face nuzzled deeper into her neck. She didn't want to move, didn't want to open her eyes, because she knew that the second she did, she'd have to start her day. She didn't want to leave the warmth and comfort of their bed, she didn't want to have to go out and talk to people and plan and work. All she wanted was to stay, right there in bed, forever. Of course, though, she couldn't.
There was too much to be done, too many people relying on them to get things done. So after a few minutes, Luna managed to pry Carl's arm off her and slip out of bed. Half-asleep and still longing for the warmth of her bed, Luna grabbed her towel and shuffled across the hall into the bathroom. Her usual morning routine had become nothing if not second nature by now, flipping on the shower and turning on the sink so she could brush her teeth with her eyes still closed. Just as she'd cracked them open to search for where she'd abandoned her toothbrush on the counter the night before, a wave of nausea hit her, and she'd barely made it to the toilet before she threw up.
Her body shook as she sat back, her hands weakly pushing against the tile floor. She groaned lightly, running a hand over her face and discovering a sheen layer of sweat now covered her body. It had been almost everyday for a week and a half that she'd woken up and threw up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what it meant, but instead of acknowledging that little nagging thought, she brushed it off as a stomach bug and moved on. Her stomach wretched again so she quickly sat forward, this time letting her head hover over the toilet once she'd stopped. She flinched and sat up, though, when she felt someone move her hair.
"It's okay, baby." Carl had lowered to his knees next to her, concern reading easily in his expression. "I'm right here." She waited a few more seconds, and when she didn't feel like she was going to throw up again, she sat back against the bathtub next to her. Carl reached over, flushing the toilet before moving to sit in front of her, his hands resting on her knees. "Are you okay, Lu? What happened?"
"I dunno." Her voice was rough as she shrugged. "Woke up and got sick." Carl couldn't help but frown.
"Are you feeling okay?" He moved one of his hands, placing the back of it against her forehead. "You're a little hot. Maybe you've got the flu or something."
"Yeah, maybe." She nodded lightly, reaching up and taking his hand. "I'm fine now, though. Really."
"I don't think you should work today." He sighed. "Not with Judy, at least. Just in case you really are sick."
"I'll see if Tara has any thermometers, okay?" She asked, and he nodded. "Help me up, I wanna shower."
—————
Luna stood in front of the closet, staring down the leather jacket that hung in the back. She didn't know why she'd decided to keep it, or why she couldn't get rid of it. Letting out a sharp breath, she pulled a sweater off of a hanger and slid the closet door closed. A few minutes later, and the warmth of Carl's goodbye kiss lingered on her lips as she walked down the street towards the pantry. There was no one there when she entered, so she quickly gathered up everything she'd come for before returning home. Carl was gone when she walked in the door-though she'd expected that-and she quickly got to work.
YOU ARE READING
NOT DEAD YET | C. GRIMES
Fanfictionluna mortimer-smith had long learned not to trust anyone, staying in the middle of the woods as to avoid any contact with the dead or any other humans. one evening, she'd gone out to check her hunting traps like usual. little did she realize, thoug...