Darling

XXVIII

Sebastian

Sebastian's eyes fluttered open, a dull ache in his chest pulling him from his sleep. The soft, steady rise and fall of Clem's breathing that had comforted him through the night was gone. He turned his head to the empty space beside him in the bed, his heart skipping a beat. For a moment, a sharp pang of panic tightened his chest before he heard it—the faint sound of retching from the bathroom.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. Every step he took toward the bathroom felt like a mix of dread and urgency, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. When he reached the door, his hand paused on the knob.

Her soft, fragile voice reached him before he could open it fully.

"Ugh... I'm sorry..."

It was a weak murmur, laced with exhaustion. But it sent a cold rush of concern through him as he pushed the door open, the sight of her kneeling by the toilet, her body trembling with dry heaving, making his gut twist painfully. She was empty now, nothing left to expel, just the raw, harsh retching of an exhausted body.

"Clem..." His voice came out softer than he intended, filled with raw concern. He stepped closer to her, kneeling down beside her, his hand gently touching her back.

Her skin was clammy, her hair a tangled mess around her face, and her eyes—tired, pained—met his with a flicker of shame, like she wasn't supposed to be this vulnerable, this weak, in front of him.

"Hey, hey..." He soothed, his hand rubbing her back in slow circles, trying to ground her. "It's okay. You're okay. Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

She didn't respond verbally, but her body seemed to relax against his touch, as if she trusted him to take control, to make her feel better, even when she was at her lowest.

With a quiet breath, Sebastian flushed the toilet, the noise suddenly too loud in the otherwise still room. He stood for a moment, steadying himself, before helping her to her feet, his arm wrapping around her waist as he gently guided her to the sink.

"Let's get you brushed up, alright?" His voice was a quiet murmur, steady and firm. He turned on the faucet, the cool water pouring out, and handed her a toothbrush, guiding her hands to it.

She barely had the strength to hold it, but she complied, brushing her teeth slowly. Her shoulders were hunched, every movement sluggish, the exhaustion evident on her face.

"Come on," he whispered after she spit, guiding her back toward the shower. He helped her undress, careful not to overwhelm her, before gently stepping her into the shower. His hands were steady as he adjusted the water temperature, testing it with his fingers before nudging her under the stream.

She winced slightly when the warm water hit her skin, but she didn't protest. Sebastian took his time, ensuring the water massaged her body, helping to ease the tightness in her muscles. His fingers worked through her hair, careful not to tug too harshly as he rinsed it, then reached for the soap to cleanse her.

He could feel the strain in her body, the weight of the nausea and the exhaustion settling over her like a suffocating blanket. It was as though her body was failing her in some way, and Sebastian couldn't quite pinpoint why, but he was certain he needed to do something. He needed answers.

Once he'd finished, he helped her out of the shower, wrapping her in a soft, thick towel. His hands brushed over her shoulders, his touch delicate as he patted her dry. He moved to the bed, pulling the covers down as he gently helped her settle back in, her body too worn out to resist.

"Stay here. I'll get you some water," he told her softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The exhaustion in her eyes was palpable, and the quiet vulnerability in her gaze made his heart ache in ways he wasn't used to.