05; scared
A hand brushed blonde curls to the side, a maneuver uncharacteristically gentle in the feebleness of its giver. Taking a deep breath, Nicole laid her hand back on the bedsheets and turned her head towards the hospital ceiling, away from the visage of her exhausted, painfully stubborn boyfriend.
Well, at least that's what she assumed he was, considering he had adamantly refused to leave her side from the moment he arrived at Mungo's following the afternoon's match. They hadn't been particularly kind to each other recently, and he had yelled his face off at her when he got there, but something told Nick that all of those things were secondary considering that she had just gotten done nearly killing herself.
She didn't regret it, really... Call her terribly competitive, but she had been determined to play despite the fever. Quidditch was one of the most important things in her life, it was a championship match, and it wasn't the first time she would have tried to play out a game while not feeling her best. She hadn't expected to fall unconscious and plummet off her broom, per se, but--it had been worth it. And anyway, an hour ago, the healers had come in and told them that she would be fine. The virus had mostly passed, and while she should continue to rest to get her strength back, she would not be one of the troves of victims the disease had already taken.
She did regret worrying him, though. For more reasons than one.
Martin, her dear bulking idiot, should not have still been there. In fact, his continued presence in her room--only allowed due to his rage-filled screaming and brute force--had the healers keeping a constant, anxious watch. Their vigilant post was no longer dedicated to her, but to the perfectly healthy man who insisted on staying attached to the side of someone still potentially carrying a virus to which no one had a cure.
He terrified her, honestly. Nicole didn't know if this was a weird, self-destructive way of getting back at her and giving her a taste of her own medicine, but she certainly did not approve. She was so, so scared of that fifty percent chance that she would pass what was left of it on to him, and then they would be in this situation all over again--but it would be worse because she would have to be the one sitting by, helpless and scared.
"You're scaring me enough already, alright?" she whispered warningly down at his sleeping face perched next to her thigh. "I'm sorry, okay? You've punished me enough."
Her hand lifted again to smooth down his messy curls, but froze mid-air and fell back to the bed.
No, he'd scared her enough already. Stupid man. |