The day had started off like any other, I mean they all blend together don't they, but by noon I knew something wasn't right. A dull ache settled in the pit of my stomach, my head began throbbing, and waves of nausea made it hard to focus on anything. I tried to brush it off, thinking maybe it was just something I'd eaten or nerves from an upcoming match. But as the hours passed, the feeling only got worse.
By the time I made it home, I was exhausted and pale, with a pounding headache that seemed to echo in my ears. I dropped my bag by the door, barely noticing as I trudged toward the living room, where I found Mum relaxing with a book. She looked up as I entered, her smile fading when she saw the look on my face.
"(Y/n), sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked, setting the book aside and immediately moving toward me.
I didn't even have the energy to muster up a reassuring smile. "I don't feel so good, Mum," I mumbled, my voice weak.
Without hesitation, she reached out and placed a gentle hand on my forehead. Her brow furrowed as she took in my flushed cheeks and the slight tremor in my hands. "You're burning up," she said, concern lacing her voice. "Let's get you to bed."
I nodded, grateful for her help as she led me upstairs to my room. Every step felt like a marathon, my legs heavy and uncooperative. By the time we reached my bed, I could barely keep my eyes open, as I was slowly drifting of into a slumber. Mum helped me lie down, pulling the covers up to my shoulders with the same care she'd given me when I was a little kid.
"I'll get you some water and medicine," she said softly, brushing a stray hair from my face. "Just try get comfortable for a moment, okay?"
I closed my eyes and nodded, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the heat radiating from my skin. As I lay there, I heard Mum moving around the house, her footsteps on the stairs, the sound of the cabinet opening in the bathroom, the clink of glass being filled in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she returned with a glass of water, a damp tea towel, and some medicine. "Here you go, love," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and helping me sit up. I took the medicine, grimacing at the taste but too tired to complain, all medicine that's meant to help you tastes awful.
Mum gently pressed the cool towel to my forehead, the relief immediate as the damp fabric soothed my feverish skin. "Try to drink some water," she encouraged, holding the glass for me as I took a few small sips.
"Thanks, Mum," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I leaned back against the pillows, feeling slightly better now that the medicine was starting to take effect, yet more drowsy as my body begged me for sleep.
She smiled at me, her eyes filled with warmth and concern. "You don't have to thank me, (Y/n/n). Just focus on resting. I'll be here if you need anything."
True to her word, Mum stayed with me, keeping a close eye on my condition. She brought me more water and a bit of toast, which I nibbled on reluctantly, even though my appetite was nonexistent. Every so often, she'd check my temperature, her brow creased with worry whenever the fever hadn't gone down. But no matter how tired she looked, she never left my side.
At one point, I must have dozed off for the tenth time, because when I woke up, the room was darker, and Mum was sitting in the chair by my bed, knitting something soft and colourful. I watched her for a moment, the steady rhythm of her hands moving the needles together almost hypnotic.
"Mum?" I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy.
She looked up immediately, setting the knitting aside. "Hey (Y/n/n). How are you feeling?"
"A bit better, I think," I replied, though my voice was still weak. The nausea had subsided somewhat, and the headache had dulled, but I still felt drained.
She leaned forward, placing a hand on my cheek. "Your fever's gone down a little. That's always good isn't it. Do you need anything?"
"Just... stay with me?" I asked, feeling slightly embarrassed for needing her so much, even now that I was older.
"Of course I will, I wasn't planning on leaving anyway." she said without hesitation, moving to sit on the edge of the bed again. She took my hand in hers, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. "I'm not going anywhere."
For a while, we sat in comfortable silence. The room was filled with the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, the occasional rustle of the trees outside the window, and the steady, comforting sound of Mum's breathing. It was enough to lull me back into a light doze, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with me.
When I woke again, it was pitch black outside, and Mum had turned on the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow across the room. She was still there, still holding my hand, her eyes closed as she dozed lightly.
"Thank you, Mum," I whispered, squeezing her hand gently.
She stirred at the sound of my voice, her eyes fluttering open. "What for, love?" she asked, smiling sleepily at me.
"For everything," I said simply. "For taking care of me, even when I'm like this."
She smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "That's what mums are for, (Y/n). I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
I smiled warmly at her before slowly dozing back off to endless sleep my body wants, knowing my body needed the rest to get back to normal. Just before the dark consumed me I felt mum kiss my forehead and pull the covers back up.
