The Broken Orphan [Being Rewritten]

Thirty Seven- Sick

Evangeline

I'm woken up by being shaken. My eyes flutter open to reveal a blurry Luke sitting on the edge of my bed. I grope randomly on my night stand until I find my glasses. I put them on to see Luke watching me with emotions that I can't place.

I can feel that my cheeks are still slightly puffy from crying last night. I probably look like a hot mess. Then again, Luke doesn't look so great either. I barely slept last night, and what little sleep I did get was filled with nightmares. It's hard to say that I would prefer staying up all night rather than dealing with the night mares. Both have consequences that I would rather not deal with.

I shiver and pull the blanket up my body. Luke looks at me strangely before placing the back of his hand on my forehead and cheeks.

"You don't look too good." He says
"You're one to talk." I say back raspy from just waking up. My throat is sore and scratchy when I talk.
"You're warm. Do you feel alright?" He ask. I don't respond, in fear that he might go into doctor mode. He leaves my room and I nuzzle back into my bed. My whole body aches and I'm congested. My nose is runny and I use the back of my sleeve to wipe it. Luke comes back in with a thermometer and stethoscope in hand, along with a small white flashlight. I hide myself under the covers pathetically. I feel a dip in the bed meaning he is on it. He tries to peel back the covers but I hold them tightly in my grasp over my head.

"Nooo," I whine and end up coughing. "You're still mad at me. Don't hurt me, please." I plead with him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not still mad at you either." He says a pulls back the covers. I try weakly to keep them up, but he wins. He fixes some of the pillows behind me and helps me sit up against them. I brush some hair out of my face and adjust my glasses. My heart beats wildly in my pressure filled chest.
"Put this under your tongue." He says placing the thermometer in my mouth. I do as he ordered me to and wait for it to beep. When it does, he removes it from my mouth and reads the number silently to himself. He lets out a small huff and grabs the stethoscope. He places it in his ears and stops.

"Lift up your shirt for me." He tells me. My eyes go wide at the statement and I tug down on my shirt.
"I'm not going to touch you or look at you. I just need to listen to your heart and lungs." He says trying to convince me. I reluctantly pull my shirt hem away from my stomach just enough for him to slip his hand and the stethoscope underneath. I jump from the sharp coldness of the tool and he chuckles.

"Sorry it's cold." He apologizes but I stay quiet and keep my shirt down. Confusion flashes across his face from how fast my heart is beating, I guess.
"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." He tells me

'That's not what I'm concerned with.' I think to myself. 'I'm more concerned with you not seeing the bruises from Colin.' I say snarkly in my mind.

"Take a deep breath for me." He says. I comply with his demands but end up in a coughing fit. He takes his hand from under my shirt and rubs my back to help relieve me of my discomfort. I catch my breath again and he picks up the flashlight.
"Open up and say ahh like last time." He tells me. I slowly open my mouth and say ahh for him. He shines the light in my mouth to help see the back of my throat. He clicks the flashlight off and drops it in his lap. He brings his hands back up to my neck and starts feeling around my throat.
"Does any of this hurt?" He ask
I wince at one spot and he catches it. "Lot of pressure. It's just uncomfortable." I explain
He stops with a sigh and just looks at me. I begin to peel the covers off of me but he stops me.

"Where do you think you are going?" He ask me
"I have to get ready for school." I tell him
He pushes my shoulders back gently to the pillows and shakes his head.
"You aren't going anywhere." He says
"I'm fine." I protest
"You're congested, have a low fever, and your throat is irritated." He says firmly
"English please?" I ask
"That was English." He says sarcastically
I glare at him "Fine, then French." I say
"Tu as un rhume. (You have a cold.)" He says. I huff and cross my arms over my chest.