Forever With Me《Marcelee》

Chapter 51

(MARSHALL'S POV)

"It's only getting worse, Marshall," Marcy breathed, her words laced with worry, "and you kept saying it was nothing!" We have been staying here for about three hours now. The fever has gotten worse, and now I'm lying on her bed. She has been putting a damp towel on my forehead and changing it from time to time, and every now and then flying around the house, rummaging through cabinets and drawers for anything to lessen the burning on my skin but to no avail.

"But I really am okay," except for the annoying sore in my throat, the fatigue, the discomfort of my warm body and the pounding headache which made my eyes heavy. I didn't want her to worry. "You look like crap," she responded. It was the first time this happened. The last time I ever got a fever was when I was still a pure demon. But being a vampire? This was the first time. It was very unusual and weird.

"What the hell have you been eating?" She asked, now almost angry, sad and worried, all at the same time. I closed my eyes as I recalled. "Nothing really, just some apples, cherries, strawberries... tomato juice. That's about it." She looked down and thought. All of those are okay and safe for us to consume, I ate nothing toxic.

It was to the point that I lost my extrasensory smelling. But that faint scent was stuck in my senses. It really was familiar.

Marceline removed the wet towel off my forehead. As she did, its chill left my head as well and heat slowly started to resurface to my skin again. "Sit up," she instructed. Slowly and careful not to shake my head - aggravating my headache - I did as told, propping my arm for support. She dipped the towel into a small basin of cold water, wrung off the excess liquid, and hung it on the mouth of the basin. As if reluctantly, she reached for the button of my shirt and unbuttoned it, then stopped.

"In other news," she started as she quickly grabbed the towel and put it on my palm, "you should do it yourself." I raised an eyebrow. "But why?"

(MARCELINE'S POV)

Don't act like you're so clueless, you idiot. I felt heat starting to rise up my cheeks as thoughts of 'that night' emerged on my mind again. Now's not the right time to be thinking about... 'that'. Marshall's sick and it's getting worse.

"'Cause you're not a kid anymore," I answered sternly, crossing my arms on my chest, "you can take care of yourself."

"But I thought you were going to take care of me? Isn't that why you brought me here in the first place?" Petty Marshall is annoying but darn cute. I glared at him. "Fine," he pouted and proceeded to unbutton his shirt. He unfastened the last button and peeled the shirt off his body. He started wiping his skin with the damp towel. "This is sad," he mumbled, making me giggle a bit.

Footsteps sounded from outside. My heart almost jumped. ASH!

"He's here, you have to get out before he sees you!" I whispered, but it was almost a yell. Marshall's expression turned stiff, he almost looked angry... or maybe he was. "Then let him," he stated briefly. His respond surprised me, and made me panic even more. Ash will surely kill him, and he's defenseless against him in this condition.

Ash knocked on the wooden door. "Babe?" his voice was a bit muffled from the other side of the door. "Let's see who this bastard really is," Marshall gritted as he slowly stood up, pushing himself off the bed with his weak arm while holding his head. I jumped out of bed and stood in front of him. "Marshall, what the hell do you think you're doing?! He'll beat the hell out of you if he sees you in here!"

Ash knocked again. "Babe, are you there? Open the door." Marshall got a lot angrier. "Then I challenge him to fight me to the death." He staggered towards the door. I flew in front of him and tried to block him. I held my hands to his chest in an effort to stop him, but he doesn't. "Marshall, please," I begged as the knocking continued, "Stop." He didn't. He continued moving forward, ignoring my pleads.