Peach Silhouette

36 | fever dreams

George, yesterday.

When I came in from the beach, I changed and then laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I stayed there for a while, thinking, probably a little too much. 

An idea flashed in my mind and I leapt up, eager to follow through - it was one of those ideas you get at 3 am and forget about in the morning. 

I dug through my drawers, until I finally found what I was looking for. My paints, and the few canvases I had brought over. I selected a few brushes and grabbed a mason jar of paint thinner. 

My preferred medium was oil, and I arranged my painting setup in the garden. It was quiet, but the flowers kept me company as I painted my base. 

Almost eight hours later, I looked up to see the sun setting. I grabbed my script brush and signed the corner of the finished painting, smiling softly. 

It was Dream, covered in flowers of all types of varieties. Anyone else would look at the painting and see a confident blonde man with nothing to do but lay in fields of flowers.

That's not what I saw.

I saw a boy who was breaking under the pressure his life laid on his shoulders. A boy who just wanted to be a kid again, when you could go on vacation and skip a couple days of school like it was no big deal. 

I wiped a bit of dust of the corner of the canvas, and left it in the corner of the garden to dry. 

George, the present. 

I woke up with a feverish feeling and an aching head. 

"Of course now I get sick." I groaned, realizing my throat was aching. I picked up my phone and dialed Kay.

"Hey George, you know we live in the same house, and you can just walk on over, right?" The sass in her tone crackled through my shitty phone speakers. I laughed, but it quickly became a cough. 

"Thanks for the heads up, Kay. I think I'm sick, though, and I was wondering if you could find someone to send up with a cup of tea and a thermometer."

"Oh, of course! My bad, you'd be surprised how often Tommy assaults me with phone calls for food. What kind of tea would you like?"

"Probably just peppermint with some honey. Thank you."

"Yeah, get some good rest and feel better soon." I ended the call and closed my eyes. 

A few minutes later there was a knock on my door. 

"Come in." I called hoarsely. 

"Hey George, Kay sent me up." Niki smiled, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a thermometer in the other. "I'll set the tea right here next to your bed, ok?" I nodded, murmuring a thanks. 

"Here, let me take your temperature." She carefully moved the thermometer over my forehead, and it gave me nostalgia of my mother doing the same when I was ill. "Yeah, you've got a fever. 37.9." I sighed.

"Can I get you anything else?" She asked.

"If it's not too much trouble, could you locate a heating pad? I'm freezing." 

"Of course. I'll be back in a bit." 

I took a sip of my tea, but quickly set it back down. My stomach was too upset to drink any more of the warm liquid. I looked up to see my door open.

"Here you are. Have a good rest George, and feel better soon. Text me if you need anything, ok?" I nodded, thanking her again as she plugged in the heating pad and exited.