where the water meets the moon | e.d.

fifty-seven

addy

my sick day was long and filled with chills, heat waves, sniffling, and nasal spray. finally at 10:30, the boat started to quiet down enough for me to fall back asleep for the fifth time of the hour.

i've been darting in and out of it for awhile due to their rambunctious card game, and it was starting to annoy me a little.

my limbs ache with each heavy movement, and i give a small prayer that this will be better by tomorrow so i can dive with everyone else.

i can tell evan is asleep by the way his meditation noises has quieted down, and i'm pretty sure kendall is in ethan's room right now.

i get sad for a moment, then remember that she's still his girlfriend. i'm the "mistress."

their quiet mumbling and frequent laughs can be heard through the thin walls, and i try to block them out completely by holding a pillow over my ears.

𓆉𓇽𓆉𓇽𓆉𓇽

"hey. ad," a quiet, whispery voice fills my ears, and i feel a hand shake my shoulder lightly.

i groan since my muscles are ultra sore when i'm sick, and when anyone touches me it feels heavy. "ethan? i can't go tonight—"

"shh, shhh, i know," he reassures quickly. "i wanted to come say hi."

i can't help but smirk into my pillow. "risky."

"very. scoot over."

with pretend annoyance, i scoot over on the bed and he chuckles a little as he settles in next to me, grabbing my blankets and pulling them up to his chin.

he flips to his side to face me, and leans up on one elbow. "hi beautiful."

"i've been sick all day. i don't think beautiful is the word," i air quote his words.

"of course it is," he says quietly, pushing hair out of my face.

"you're... cheesy. i'm cringing."

"fine. you're ugly, then."

"no," i giggle a little. "that's not what i meant."

he smiles a little and leans forward for a kiss, but i pull back. "no way. i'm not getting you sick."

"you won'ttttt," he groans out dramatically, pulling my chin back in.

i hold my head high and look away from him, preventing him from connecting our lips.

"wow," he says dryly.

i laugh a little and bury my face back into my pillow, trying to stop the blush from blooming to my face— like it usually does when i'm around ethan.

"stop hiding your face, you look cute."

i've been looking like utter trash all day and he still somehow sees me as cute. unbelievable.

i lift my head from the pillow and close my eyes, giving the most unflattering smile and then plopping back down again. "how 'bout now?"

"hm... let me think," he pretends to ponder in thought. "yeah, still the same."

"shush. i'm tired. let me sleep."

"okay," he whispers and let's me nestle into him and close my eyes.

"you smell nice," i blurt randomly into his plain white t shirt.

"thanks," he laughs a little. "you're sweating."

"probably because i have a fever... and the air conditioning in this place already sucks."

but even though i'm practically dying of heat in the covers and his arms, i never wiggle out of them. i know that he won't be here when i wake up, but it feels nice to fall asleep next to him.

as i begin to drift off and close my heavy eyelids, i hear him begin to ramble on about his day, and what he ate for snacks while i wasn't there to pawn animal crackers off of.

i know he's not sleep talking, because his sentences are coherent and make sense. they do begin to jumble up when my brain turns to sleep-mode, through.

how can i feel so strongly for the guy i barely could hold a conversation with two months ago? it doesn't make any sense to me.

but i guess that's the beauty of it.

nothing ever has to make sense.