I woke up feeling worse than ever. I felt like I could throw up any moment, and my head hurt like hell. My throat was hurting just as badly, making speaking very difficult.
Despite that I managed to call in sick for work today.
'Hey.' I heard his happy voice say as soon as I picked up the phone. I tried to reply with a 'hey' as well, but my voice was croacked.
'Wow, what's with your voice?' He asked, laughing a bit. He didn't wait for my answer and just continued, 'Anyways, can I come over? I want to see you.' He shyly said.
As much as I wanted him to be here, it didn't seem smart, 'I wouldn't do that if I were you.' I chuckled which turned inro coughing.
I could practically hear him frowning, 'Why not?'
'Because I'm sick.' I groggily replied.
'That does explain the voice.' He said and chuckled. 'I'm still coming over. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I'm not doing that without at least saying goodbye.'
I held myself from making an 'awh' sound, and instead I said, 'Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you when you get sick.'
'I'll be right over.' I heard him say, and then he hung up the phone. I tried to get out of bed, and make myself look somewhat presentable. But I wasn't up long, due to dizzyness. I groaned and let my head fall into my hands once I had sat down on the bed again. I had never felt this miserable in my life. Not even minutes later I heard a knock at the door.
'Tom, can you get it?' I said barely audible, but still hoping he'd hear me. I assume he did, as Viktor stood in front me of only seconds later.
'Hey.' He smiled.
I pulled my face out of my hands and looked up, 'hey.'
'Oh you really do look bad.'
'Thanks.' I replied sarcastically. 'That's exactly what I wanted to hear.'
I got up slowly and we walked to the living room. I sat down on the couch, and pulled the blanket I'd taken from the bedroom over me. Viktor sat down next to me.
'So, you're leaving tomorrow?' I started. I felt way more disappointed than I should have. I wonder if that's a good thing. I promised myself I wouldn't get attached so much to a person anymore, but I feel like I'm breaking that promise.
'I am.' He stated, a small smile on his face. Playing for his country was one of his dreams. One that was now coming true.
'I know you'll do well.' I smiled at him.
'I hope so.' He said. 'Do you want water? Or something to eat?'
'Water is good. I don't think I could handle food at the moment.' I answered, placing a hand over my hurting stomach.
'Are you sure? I mean you do have to eat something.' He said, standing up.
'I know, just not now.'
'You know what, I'll make you something and you can eat it later if you want, okay?' He proposed.
I smiled, 'Yeah, yeah..' It was sweet what he was doing, but not neccesary.
----
After a good half an hour, he left again, because of a training. I walked to the kitchen to see what he'd made for me. My stomach was grumbling; I felt good enough to eat. Pulling open the fridge, I found a sandwich inside. I made myself some tea, as that would always help a bit, and sat down to eat.
Later on, I regretted that, as I was throwing it all out at the moment. I guess I wasn't feeling well enough to eat yet. But that's too late now.
