safe | l.h.

three

"safe, better keep that thought to yourself, when you find that place and it only lasts for a minute" - Safe / All Time Low

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-Violet-

A few days after all of our friends and family had flown back home, I woke up on the couch, cringing to myself at the stiffness in most of my body. I stood up and tried to stretch, feeling just a little bit of relief. I quietly crept over to the bedroom, opening the door and peeking in to see if Luke was awake.

He was, just the top of his head sticking out from under the covers. He gave me a sad smile, "I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch. You probably would have been fine sleeping in here."

I laughed lightly, "No, I figured it was better on the couch. I love you, but I really don't want any of your germs right now."

Luke had the flu, which had pretty much turned him into a bed-ridden mess. He was trying not to be too needy, but I knew he appreciated me taking care of him. He was running a pretty consistent fever, and had thrown up a few times. He had called out of work the last two days, and hadn't had much of an appetite. I was forcing him to eat what he could choke down while I was home, but he had to spend the days alone because I couldn't get the time off of work.

I took a few tentative steps into the room, "Do you want anything to eat? I'm going to make some eggs and bacon for myself and I can make you some toast if you want."

He nodded slowly, pulling the blanket up even closer to his face. Despite my better judgement, I walked over and bent down, giving him a gentle kiss on his warm forehead. Luke just smiled, "Look at you, risking your health just to give me some love."

I laughed again, heading out into the kitchen, "I just couldn't help myself."

Before I started cooking, I also wet a small towel for Luke and brought it in for him to lay on his head. He was on the verge of falling asleep again, and I knew he would probably be out like a light by the time the toast was ready. I started making my own breakfast anyway, figuring I could just make him something when he woke up.

I had one frying pan on the stove with a few pieces of bacon, and I was about to pour a bowlful of whisked eggs into another pan. As soon as they hit the oil and started cooking, I could feel my stomach doing flip-flops. I winced a little, but tried to distract myself by focusing on cooking. I kept mixing the eggs and flipping the bacon, trying to ignore the nausea that kept building up.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. The smell of the bacon and eggs had officially gotten to me, and I quickly turned the heat under the two pans off before running into the bathroom. I knelt in front of the toilet for nearly ten minutes, silently cursing Luke for getting me sick. I hated throwing up.

After I felt like I was finished, I slowly got up and brushed my teeth, generally feeling pretty disgusting. I went back into the kitchen and saw the food I had made and started feeling nauseous all over again. I opened the trash can and just dumped the freshly made food right in, knowing there was no way I could eat any of it right now.

I opened the door to the bedroom again, and the noise made Luke lift his head up from the pillow. He could see the disgust on my face, "What's wrong?"

I flopped down on the bed next to him, pulling the covers up onto my own body. I turned onto my side to face Luke, "Well, looks like we are both bed-ridden now. You gave me the flu."