Some Day One Day

28

I didn't have any trouble finding Shawn's place because I'd never  forgotten where it was from the time Ojay told me. By the time I got  there the downpour of rain was heavy and wind was rioting wildly. There  was no absolute way that I could continue driving under the thunderous  circumstances.
The first thing I noticed when I looked at Shawn's two  story house was that the front door was wide open, which I obviously  found to be thoroughly odd. All the alarms in my body went off and I sat  up from my inert position and vigilantly looked around. His car was  parked right in front of the garage though, but that didn't mean he was  at home. It could've meant he went out with a friend or something.
The  front door being wide open didn't make any logical sense. Then my heart  starting bumping loudly when the assumption that some buglers had gone  in and found him at a bad time crossed my mind. The thought of him being  hurt nearly drove me into insanity. Instinctually, I barreled out of my  car and fighting the angry air and piercing raindrops over to the front  door. At the vestibule, debris from the stormy wind marred the  refurbished wooden floor. I didn't know whether to close the door or  not. For all I knew the thieves may have still been inside the house.
Sliding  my car keys into my jacket pocket, I closed the front tightly and eased  in with cautioned steps. My heart pelted slowly, as if waiting for  something outrageous to happen to make it snap.
"Shawn?" I bellowed his name, shocking myself by how loud I sounded. The house seemed so empty that my voice echoed numerously.
Ignorant of how Shawn's house was built, I didn't know exactly where to go.
"Shawn?!"  I called out to him again and heard a faint noise that I couldn't  easily distinguish. The sound nearly discouraged me from walking back  out when I realized it could have very well come from the raging storm  behind me. Turning around, I pondered over whether to close the door or  not. This was a transgression what I was doing, I could go to jail for  breaking and entering. Then I remembered Angie's beseeching voice and  how she needed to know if he was okay or not.
With that thought in mind, I let my intuition lead me warily into the house.
When  I stepped into the house, it was dark, with only the occasional light  from the lightning that streaked the skies. I'd expected everything to  be in a state of frenzy and chaos. Instead, everything in the house was  well kept and in order. I'd always been curious what was in Shawn's home  but I'd given up hope of ever finding out what he held inside of it  knowing that it was none of my business. Now I was witnessing everything  vividly with my own two very eyes, my steps slow and measured.
The  entire scenario was as enticing as it was frightening, I thought as I  reached the bottom of the winding stairs. The raging storm pelting  against the windows and the flashing lightning followed by rebellious  thunder didn't mitigate my panicky state.
"Shawn?!" I called him again, still remaining unanswered.
This  was madness. With the final decision to just leave, I pivoted on my  heels and started to head out, only to stop dead in my tracks when I  heard a low groan from upstairs. The hairs on the back of my neck spiked  up. At first I contemplated over whether that was some distant thunder,  but when I heard it the second time, then the third time, and I knew  then that it definitely wasn't the storm.
My next thought was a silly  one, but I immediately wondered if Shawn was up there with some tramp  having this sex that he was claimed to be always having nowadays.  Suddenly fuming, I traipsed the stairs, ready to bust through the doors  and catch him in the act when I came to a screeching halt, realizing how  ludicrous I was being. What he did with another female was none of my  business. And why was it making me so mad anyway?
Feeling thoroughly  ashamed by my behavior, I made it only a few steps down the stairs  before I heard another moan that made my knees get so weak that I had to  latch onto the stair's railing. Rotating my head, I looked at the  hallway upstairs.
I needed to stop being silly. For all I know he  could've been badly bruised from those robbers. He could be very well  only moaning and groaning because of the pain.
But there's two types of pain Beyonce. And one of them, guys really like.
I shook my head viciously at its reasoning.
I stood midway of Shawn's steps, averting from the stair to the front door, trying to decide what to do.
Instinctively,  I leaped up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me. The nearer I  got, the more audible Shawn's moaning became. Once I got to the top, it  didn't take me long to figure out which room he was in. the door was  wide open.
I could the occasional susurration of sheets rubbing  against sheets and the intermittent squeaking of the bed along with  Shawn's low groans.
Oh god, why were my knees shaking and why was my womanhood pulsing?
And  why was I thinking about that in the first damn place. For all I knew  there could be a woman in there, but I realized Shawn's moaning wasn't  accompanied with any other.
Sucking in a deep breath and holding it  in, I tiptoed over to his door like a timid mouse and nudged my head  slightly out the side of the doorjamb, hoping not to see anything that  would make my eyes bleed.
My mouth dropped.
The only thing  clothing Shawn from head to toe was...I tried to find something but came  up short. Thank God the sheet was luckily rumpled over his hips and  thighs. When I suddenly wished another place of him had been shielded  instead of there, I fought the urge to slap some sense into myself and  stop being so lewd.
Lord, I might be walking in on him pleasuring  himself! Was the first frantic thought that zapped through my mind. I  then quickly reminded myself to stop being so idiotic.
He was  obviously writhing in a lot of pain from the restless way he shifted on  the bed. His head would fling from one side to the other and he'd wince  in pain. His hands dug into his white linen sheets and his entire body  would tense. My knees buckled and I leaned against the wall for support.  He wasn't supposed to look good. He was supposed to look sick, just  like Ojay and Angie had expected.
"S-Shawn?" I called out to him from  the doorway, making sure I was audible above the storm and his  groaning. If he wasn't groaning through clenched teeth, all covered in a  sheen of sweat, then I wouldn't have been feeling nervous flickers over  my womanhood the way I was.
His chest and excavated abdomen heaved up and down though his rigorous breaths.
He  hadn't seemed to have heard me when I called him. So I stepped further  into the room on wobbly legs, shivering at how chilly the room was. And  he was sweating like hell.
"Shawn?" I called out to him, but again he  didn't see to hear me. I walked over to the side of the bed that he was  closest, where I had to kick off the heaps of thrown off comforters and  blankets to get to him.
Not really knowing what else to do, I  kneeled on the edge of the bed with one leg and hovered him, calling him  once again. He still didn't respond, it looked as though he were in  some sort of nightmare. Now that I was really close to him, I could see  how seriously ill he was.
This was all so strikingly familiar that I panicked, my heart nearly giving out.
Gulping  hard, I placed a shaky hand over his smooth forehead. The moment I  touched it, I was relieved to find that it wasn't as blazing as I  thought it would be. I suddenly yanked out of my relief when a hand  flailed outward and caught mine in a deathgrip that made my eyes go wide  from the pain that shot through up my arm like wild fire. The next  thing I knew, I lost my equanimity and will a yelp of not only surprise  but pain from my burning wrist, I fell on top of Shawn's iron chest so  hard that my breasts hurt when they compressed on him.
Shawn's eyes  were open now, intense and crazed. I knew this look very well. Anytime  he had a nightmare—most of them about the hurricane he'd had to  endure—he'd wake up with a fogged up almost scary expression on his  handsome features. I squelched another moan of pain because Shawn's  fingers tightened their grip around my wrist and I knew if he added any  pressure my wrist would be done for and shatter.
We stayed like this  for a long time, both of us breathing heavily, me shaking not only from  fear and the blistering cold of his room, but also the pain  conflagrating on my right arm. My other hand was pressed firmly flat on  the mattress right beside him. Somewhere throughout this commotion, I  was very much aware that my left thigh had somehow landed on the grove  between his iron hips.
I felt him.
He was hard.
I wanted to move, but my body had suddenly lost its willpower.
Our eyes held for a long time.
"...mmm...you  came back...I missed you..." he said in a rugged voice, the bleariness in  his eyes never fading. I couldn't tell if he was asking or telling me.
"Huh?"  I quavered in confusion, convulsing like a leaf on top of him, the  front length of my hair drooping erroneously around his.
Shawn licked his lips, releasing the tightness around my hand slightly, but not letting go.
Shawn  murmured something hoarsely but it was unintelligible to me. I felt his  voice vibrating against my chest and my nipples began to ache at the  sensation against my own wishes.
I swallowed hard and began rumbling  nervously because I was confused, "I just came by to check on you. Ojay  and Angie were worried about you."
Shawn said nothing, still in  delirium. All he did was stare at me; and all that did was make my  breaths more rapid. It was crazy how good he looked, smooth sweaty skin,  his body so firm that all I wanted to do was lean further more into it  and...
As soon as those thoughts fleeted across my mind, I panicked and  struggled against him. My desperation caused me to nudge Shawn's pelvic  area and his eyes went wide before he bit his lip to swallow the groan  I'd felt him creating against my chest.
Immediately after that  Shawn's fingers uncurled from mine and I wasted no time getting off of  his hot body before I melted all over it. I got up so quickly that I  stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the pile of beddings that I  thought I'd shoved safely away. As I stared at Shawn slip out of his  daydream, I rubbed my aching wrist.
Shawn finally blinked into focus  and stared at me in shock. It's like he'd been asleep with his eyes  open. Who had he been dreaming about? Grabbing a handful of the sheet,  he bunched up the sheets over his mid section. That should've covered  him more but it only slid the shits further down his navel, where I  caught a glimpse of his whorl of hair. I bit my lip and trained my eyes  to his face. I would not look anywhere else, I couldn't.
"What did you say?" he murmured.
"I said I think you have a fever Shawn. Hold on, let me go close the front door. You left it open."
His brows drew together over his dark, tired eyes in confusion and his chest heaved with more pronunciation "...huh? I did?"
"Yes, it's okay. Calm down. I think you just forgot to close it fully and the storm must have opened it fully."
When all Shawn did was stare at me confusedly, I added.
"Don't  worry about it I'm going to go close it. I didn't at first because,  well I thought there were some thieves in here." I said as I walked off  and Shawn's confusion deepened.
"Thieves?"
"I'll explain later." I  told him and made my way downstairs, my heart racing faster than the  lightning that briefly lit the house. When I got to the front door, I  saw that more debris had scuttled into the house and when I looked out  the door I saw that the storm had fueled in strength. After closing the  front door and locking it, I made my way up stairs, two steps at a time.
When  I got there, I found Shawn trying to sit up in bed, clenching his teeth  and eyes tightly shut as he groaned in what looked to be pain. Sighing  heavily and wishing I wouldn't be turned on by seeing him that way, I  made my way further into the room.
"Shawn stop trying to move so  much." I castigated and right when I did he fell onto the bed with a  loud huff. With his eyes closed, he breathed through his mouth which was  moistened. A flare caressed my womanhood and I told it to stop.
This  time I sat on the edge of the bed and reluctantly moved my hand over  his forehead to feel him. He didn't even flinch when I touched him and I  relaxed, exhaling slowly.
"Shawn I think you might have a fever."
He grumbled something under his breath that I didn't catch on to.
"Hmm?"  I leaned closer. When Shawn lifted an arm I reflexively sprung upwards,  fearing that he was going to catch me again when all he did was throw  his forearm over his eyes. I frowned at the sight.
Reaching forward, I felt his dewy cheek, neck and sternum too.
"Yes  you have one," I concluded, searching around his uncharacteristically  untidy room with my eyes, "Do you have any aspirin on you?"
He mumbled something but I didn't get it.
"Sorry I didn't hear you. What did you say?" I leaned forward.
"The bathroom," he nearly yelled out of frustration but repeated in a softer grumble, "I think I have some din the bathroom."
"Oh okay," I stood to my feet, my hands rubbing my thighs, "I'll get it. Don't move."
Shawn's  bathroom was the adjoining room and much like his bedroom it was a  mess. Ignoring everything else that I itched investigate, I opened his  glass cabinet. I sought through different bottles until I came to the  one closest to my desire and pilfered it.
I found Shawn trying to sit up.
"Lay your ass down Carter!"
He  made a disgusted sound, ignoring me as he slowly rolled off his smile. I  bit my lip when his movements exposed his leg some more.
"You're sick." I stated the obvious.
"Fuck  that man." I would've taken that barb as an offense if I didn't know  this side of Shawn. Whenever he was faced with weakness, he became angry  at the world. Even when we were together, he'd been that way.
"Excuse you?" I hurried to his side, clutching the aspirin in my hand.
"Look  Beyonce, I appreciate your concern but—argh..." Shawn gritted his teeth  when he swung his legs off of the bed and that's when I noticed he was  wearing boxers and had only thought he was naked because they hung so  illegally low on his hips. Only lord knew why that knowledge  disappointed me. His held his head in his hands, muttering every curse  word in the book.
"See? I told your ass to stay in bed. Why don't you  ever listen? Why can't you ever let anyone take care of you Shawn?" I  asked him frustratingly, placing the aspirin bottle on the nightstand.
"I'm  fine iight." Shawn strained before hissing an inhale and puffing it  out. His right leg was agitating and I started to worry. I hadn't seen  him doing that in a while.
"Fine my ass." I muttered, placing one  hand on his lower back and the other on his shoulder. I added pressure  and Shawn resisted for only a second before he let himself rest supinely  on the bed once again.
"Do you need your brace?" I asked him edgily,  looking around the room searchingly for the metal brace that had always  been in his old room but it was nowhere to be found. From the corner of  my eye I saw Shawn tense a little bit. I knew he hated it when I asked  him that or talked about it. It was a subject he always left untouched.
"No." he told me firmly, "I'm good..."
I argued with Shawn about a lot, but not about that.
"Don't  move," I warned him sternly, eying him like a mother who was trying to  keep a watchful eye on her restless toddler, "I'm getting you some  water."
Shawn murmured something and shifted.
"What did I say? Your ass is trying to get up again?" I reproached, folding my arms.
"Damn Beyonce can't a nigga just fucking breath?!" he bellowed, putting his arm over his face and finally remaining still.
Fighting  the urge to smile, I turned back around and headed out of the room,  "That's what I thought. Now hold on okay? I'll be just a minute."
The  trip downstairs was short and finding everything I needed was even  shorter. Instead of water I sloshed him some orange juice. While I was  down there looking for glasses, I stumbled across some cans of soup—the  type one kept in case bad weather rolled in unexpected.
In a matter  of minutes I had the most suitable soup I found heating over the  purview. The kitchen didn't need much cleaning so it wasn't a tedious  task for me to have it spotless in a short amount of time. As I wiped  off the counters though, pinpricks of pain would afflict my wrist and I  was galled at how damn strong Shawn truly was.
After ladling some  soup into a bowl and placing it on a tray with the orange juice, I  prudently made my way up the steps, my thumb pinning the spoon I'd  nearly forgotten down.
When I reached the threshold to his bedroom, my fingers tightened around the tray in aggravation.
"Shawn  fucking Carter ugh!" I shrieked, nearly dropping my tray in  frustration. Shawn was sitting at the edge of the bed, his fisted hands  by his side as he tried to keep himself up. Drowsily, he looked at me  inquiringly, brow furrowed. If that hadn't been the sexiest look I'd  seen in twenty minutes...
"Man! Can't you just let someone take care of  you? For once? That's all I'm asking." I fumed as I stamped into the  room and placed the trey on the nightstand.
"...hmmm...?" he murmured  groggily as he slowly rubbed his eye socket with the heel of his hand  before holding his head as if it were about to explode.
"Okay, you  know what? You need to get back in that bed. That's probably all you  need to feel better." I said with a maternal instinct that always came  when I tried to get Shawn to calm down. With my hands firmly planted on  his shoulder, I pushed him backwards, advising him to sit up instead of  lay on the bed so that he could take his aspirin and soup. I had to  kneel with one knee on the bed to keep me balanced. I also had to  sustain the need to curl my hands onto his flesh and see how hard he  was. His skin felt so smooth, and looked it too. He'd always had  unfairly smooth skin.
"I have things to do okay..." he fought with his last strand of strength.
"Okay  I understand that," I straightened the disheveled sheet and brought it  up to his waist, "you wont get them done effectively if you're weak.  Notice how you left the front door open and didn't even notice it?"
Shawn  made a repelling sound that I ignored. I picked bent over and picked up  a bundled covet, shook it straight and draped it over his lap.
"Man nah, it's too hot for that shit." Shawn growled, pushing the comforter away from him.
"But  you'll only get worse if you keep yourself cold like this. The quicker  you get better the quicker you get back to work. Now here, take some  aspirin. It'll make your headache go away and I know you have one."
After  shimmying out two tablets into the center of my palm, I held them out  to Shawn. When all he did was stare at my hand blankly, I fought my  second smile of the night, took one hand of his and turned it over to  drop the pills there. I then grabbed juice from the tray over by the  night stand and held it up to him. Throwing the aspirin in his mouth, he  gulped the juice down, his eyes low as he did so. His eyelashes swept  across his cheekbones as he drank the juice and I thought that was the  cutest thing I'd ever seen in my life.
When he was done, I took the  glass from him and placed it back on the tray. Tearing off from the  paper towel, I turned to offer it to him to wipe his mouth but I found  that his head was reposed against the headrest and his eyes were closed.
His neck looked so inviting, if I could just...
"Um," I cleared my throat and spoke gently, "Shawn?"
The  only movement was the slow way he opened his eyes into very thin slits.  My mouth suddenly went dry. That was the same look he had everytime he  woke up after we'd...had a lot of fun.
"Do you want anything to eat? You need some fluids in your system."
Shawn  simply shook his head, fluttering his eyes closed again. He was still a  little bit restless, and I stayed seated by his side on the bed until  his breaths were even and he wasn't as shifty as before.
"...Are you  sure you weren't here before...?" Shawn asked me suddenly, his voice  distant and thick with sleep, never once opening his eyes as he spoke.
"No," I answered the question that seemed slightly out of context, "I think you were dreaming."
Shawn  never responded, leaving me slightly confused but not too worried about  it.