It's the ding of my cell phone that wakes me, pulling myself up against the back of my chair- I'd fallen asleep.
Opening my phone and reading the text, I learn from Matteo that they're snowed in, with so many roads closed they won't be getting home until early morning, and it's already eleven.
After responding, with concern for them out in the cold, and pride because he told me he did win, I pocket my phone and turn to Nathan, who's gone into star fish mode as we've slept.
His long arm dangles off the side of the bed, and his pillow has half fallen off, leaving his head on an incline to the floor, where his fingers brush the wood. The sheet I'd left him with is drenched in sweat, tangled around his legs and waist, practically unidentifiable.
Getting to my feet I begin the slow process of coaxing him back to a comfortable position, bringing his arm up to the bed, holding his head as I move his pillow back into place, laying his head down gently once it's done. Moving to his legs, I slowly, and I mean very slowly, untangle the sheet, pulling it free from his bed once it's done.
I reach for one of the lighter blankets at the bottom of his bed, deciding it's okay seeing as his temperature has dropped slightly since I gave him the medication.
Leaving him to rest, I head to my room to change, opting to get myself ready for bed as well.
As I exit the room, leaving the door ajar behind me, I fail to hear the slight starts of a whimper.
. . . . .
Pulling a sweater on over my t-shirt, I putter back to Nathan's room, just to check on him, tucking my sweater into my shorts the whole time. Reaching his door, I hear it, the soft, muffled whimpers, the slow cries.
Confused, I enter the room, finding Nathan in his bed, sleeping, yet crying all the same, tears leaking onto his pillow case.
He sounds so sad, so broken, so tired- my heart aches for him, for whatever he's thinking of to make him act this way, to bring such a pain. Walking towards him, I sit on the edge of the bed, wiping the tear tracks off his cheeks with my thumb, trying to soothe him with sweet nothings, pushing his hair of his forehead, almost rhythmically.
A gasp leaves his lips as he shoots up, stuttering unfinished questions, eyes raking over the room multiple times before finally settling on me, on my hand clutching his wrist, on my worried gaze and my concern etched forehead.
"Nath-" he cuts me off, looking me dead in the eye as he speaks, clearly frustrated by his own stutter.
"C-c-can y-yo-you just stay w-with m-m-m-me?" He swallows hard, waiting for my answer, his arms shaking as they hold up his upper body.
I simply nod, at a loss of words as I watch him layback down, still jumpy, still shaking as if a frigid wind was striking him alone. Sliding over, so his back hits the wall, I lay down in the space given beside him, tucking my bare legs beneath the blanket, nearly sighing at its warmth.
Rolling over, so I face Nathan, I watch him watch me, his eyes wide, drinking in every inch of my appearance, from the logo on my sweater to the chipped nail polish on my finger nails.
Although he had asked me to stay, he doesn't seem to be happy with my answer, he has himself crammed against the wall, with nearly a forearms worth of space between us, his long arms tucked up against his chest.
"Nathan?" I whisper, pushing the pillow more towards him, so we share evenly.
"Y-yeah?" He swallows hard, and although I can't be sure in the dark, I'm pretty sure he's blushing.
YOU ARE READING
Love, Emma
Teen Fiction"E-Emma? It's okay y-you know. I-I'm used to i-i-it." "You shouldn't have to be, some people disgust me, the nerve of them." "I can't blame t-t-th-them, I m-mean l-l-l-look at m-me." He sounds so defeated, even though I can tell he's trying to hide...