The Summer Of My Life(Completed)

Part thirteen

Chris' POV

I slammed the door shut and walked down the stairs. I don't know but for some reason I was angry. Maybe its because the fact that she wants to starve herself hurts me.

I have been up all night, every night thinking about what Lily said. I'm gonna ask her out but I'm gonna wait until she gets over her father's death or at least until she breaks a smile.

I walked in the kitchen and stood at the sink, thinking about what I should make for her. I searched through the cabinets and found nothing so I went to the fridge and looked through it. I saw some stuff.

She's sick. The best thing to make for her is some soup.

Ah ha! Some soup, why didn't I think of that?

I'll make some chicken soup with parsley and egg drops.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

I finished making the soup and served it. Putting it on a tray, I made my way upstairs with it to her room. When I pushed the door open, she was asleep. I sighed and went over to her bed. I looked at her face and she was sweating and breathing heavily. I put down the tray on her nightstand and lightly shook her. Her eyes fluttered open and they were red. How sick is she?

"I made soup," I told her. She shook her head and tried to speak but it was distorted. "What?" I asked.

"I'm-not-h-hungry," she said.

"Gizzelle," I rubbed my hands all over my face in frustration and sighed. "You're gonna eat today while I'm here," I ordered.

I helped her to sit up and put my right hand around her neck to support her head while my left hand had the soup. I put the bowl in my right hand so that I can use my left hand to handle the spoon and feed her.

I dipped the spoon in the soup and gave it to her and she drank it.

Over and over and over I did this until the soup was almost finished but the chicken was left in it. I put the bowl in my left hand and removed my hand from around her head to lay her down.

I used the fork that was on the tray to feed the meat to her. I gave a piece to her and she chewed it until she coughed and it came back out of her mouth. I sighed and used my hand to take it up. Putting it on the tray, I thought about what I should do for her to eat the chicken.

Instead, I used my phone and Googled. Most were about putting it in her mouth and lightly chewing it.

Put in your mouth and lightly chew. Don't chew out just make sure it is soft enough. When you're sure it is soft enough, feed it to her using her mouth.

So I decided to do it. I sighed and picked up piece of the chicken. I chewed on it lightly without chewing it out and made sure it was soft enough and leaned down. I fed it to her and butterflies erupted in my stomach.

It felt like we were kissing which was practically what we were doing. She opened her mouth and I used my tongue to push it down in her mouth.

She swallowed it and squeezed her eyes shut.

I did this over and over until the meat was finished and the bone was left.

I sighed and I replayed our little scene over and over. Will she remember it? Does she regret being sick? Does she like it or thinks its okay for me to do that? Is she angry? If she is will she for-

"Thank you," she barely made her words out. "For what?" I asked though I knew for what. But part of me wanted her to say "for feeding me with your mouth which is practically us kissing."

"For feeding me," she said, softly that I hardly heard. "And making me feel better."

Part of me warmed up when she said I made her feel better. In my head, I was flying in the galaxy like a love struck puppy with hearts surrounding my head.

"Your welcome," I said, offering her a smile. I got up with the plate and went out. A sigh escaped my mouth and I stormed down the stairs to the kitchen, where I washed the dish and placed it in the plate tray.

I sat down on one of the island stools and thought. "What if when I tell her she doesn't like me? How well will that go?"

I shook my head and got up. As I said before, we just have to wait and see.

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