Everything Is Blue

Chapter 50

A flash of lightning illuminated the bedroom, seconds before thunder rattled the windows. Streetlights flickered in the rain.

Each crack of thunder made the businessman slightly jump. He gave up on sleeping entirely and sat up in the bed.

Truth be told, he really did feel sick at the moment. He hated it. He hated the feeling of wanting to throw up every twenty minutes. The way his face felt like it was a hundred degrees. He hated it, and had no intentions of throwing up or falling back asleep. He wanted to hug his girlfriend. He wanted her to hold him and tell him he was going to be okay.

Bud leaned back into the bed and swallowed with a frown, sighing at a surge of vertigo that hit him all of a sudden. Then a glance over to Kimbra's side of the bed. The Samoyed was still asleep, sprawled across the pillows, snoring gently.

He wouldn't wake her then.

But how in the world had he gotten so sick so quickly? He wanted to fall asleep. When was the last time he'd been so sick?

And wasn't the flu going around this time of year? A few of his employees had called out of work, mentioning it.

Great, of all the things he had to catch, it just had to be the flu. Did this really have to happen? Anything, just anything else, would be better than this. Like getting hit by a car while crossing the street. Or getting audited by the IRS.

Bud let out a muffled whimper as his head began to throb, pain squeezing him as if there were a vice around his crown and temples. And a migraine as the cherry on top of everything. What a fantastic day.

"You sound horrible." Kimbra said suddenly, sitting up on an elbow with a yawn. She hadn't expected him to be awake at this hour.

"I sound fine."

"No, you don't. You sound like you're dying."

Bud swallowed as his heart flipped in his chest. He could just play it off. He could play it off as a tummy ache, and he could let her get a good night's rest.

But he...

He wasn't okay, but he could be.

"It's just a cough."

Do you really believe that?

"Buddy, you're sick." She spoke again, much softer, not caring what he thought of her at that moment. "Are you okay?"

He might think she was silly, for worrying so much. Especially if it was something as small as just a minor cough. But she didn't care what he thought of her at that moment.

Bud's southern accent slipped from his mouth. "I ain't got time to be sick. And I'm perfectly fine." He didn't need to dwell on it now. It would just make him feel sicker than he already did.

As always, the scientist saw through Bud's lies. She frowned before standing up from the bed.

"I'll be right back," she said, before stepping out of the room. Disappearing down the stairs.

The Samoyed made her way into the kitchen, opening up one of the cabinets. She rooted a hand around inside of it, looking for a bottle. Once found, Kimbra pulled it out and grabbed a spoon from a drawer.

Once back upstairs, Kimbra sat down on the bed, beside the hound. The bed shifted slightly under her weight. "Take this and you'll feel better."

Bud made a face of disgust at the liquid. "Ew, no, I'm not taking that."

Kimbra tried again, holding the food closer to his mouth. "You need it, you're sick."

"I can survive on my own."