That Sexy Librarian and Me

34th

nothing new 

for thirty four illnesses

When Athenia went by the library the next day, she found it closed.

Remy had forgotten to get up in the morning.

The thought should’ve made her angry, frustrated, cockily unhappy and the like, but all it did was bring relief.

“Remy?”

The house was empty, or so she thought. As she headed over to her bed she realized that by ten o’ clock on weekends Remy usually got to studying in some corner of the library. Well, old Remy would’ve lazed around the apartment playing on the Xbox all day long, but this Remy was, in fact, all grown up.

“Rem,” she sat next to his limp form as she placed a hand on his head. “Wake—”

Her skin felt hot, terribly so, as she touched his neck, his bare chest.

“I don’t feel so good,”

“You’re not good. You’re sick.”

He moaned as he turned to the side, the sheets going with him.

“I feel like I might throw up.”

“Throw up on your own time. Right now we’re going to see the doctor.”

“It’s just the flu,” he reminded her, for the hundredth time, as she fed him the hot soup. “You don’t have to feed me.”

“If I don’t, who will?”

“I can feed myself, I meant.”

“Maybe I missed you enough over the week to feed you. Open up.”

“Really?” He asked as she removed the spoon from his mouth. “You seemed to be doing just fine.”

“How would I be doing just fine? You were ignoring me; avoiding me... must I say more?”

“You were doing all of that to me, too. You looked like you were doing fine without me.”

“Other people look fine without you, too, Rem,” she plunged the spoon into his mouth. “That doesn’t mean much, though.”

Remy only looked at her after that, his face red and sweaty as he kissed her lips.

“If you get me sick...”

“Then I’ll take care of you.”

She snorted at that. “You? Have you any idea how to make soup?”

“I know you know, and I’ll ask you to teach me.”

“While I’m passed out?”

“While you’re... not sick.”

“So it’s a given I’m falling sick then?”

“It’s a given I’m going to kiss you a hundred times over, so you’re probably going to fall sick, yes.”

“I’m not a wimp.” She told him as he swallowed the last spoon of soup, noodles and all.

“You’re a sexy wimp, but a wimp, nonetheless.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I wish you were nicer to me. I’m sick.”

“I wish you weren’t sick.”

He smiled as she came back to bed and held him, reading out all of Captain Haddock’s funny insults she’d managed to cough up on Google. When they came to the fiftieth one, Remy had fallen asleep with his mouth open, softly snoring with every breath he took.

It was really boring when she had to come back from the Laundromat to find Remy still asleep, showing no signs of waking up anytime soon. The library was quiet enough, and now the apartment, too. It was killing her to realize that without Remy, this was her life.

This is her life, without Remington.