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I closed my eyes once they were gone, feeling too tired to do anything else. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something like this for me, taken care of me the way Charlie was. My parents loved me, but they’d never been the affectionate types. They cared for me, and they’d supported me through everything, but I’d rarely gotten a hug or a kiss from them, so having them take care of me while I was sick almost seemed like a dream.
“Brady? You up?”
“Yeah,” I said and immediately winced at how hoarse I sounded.
Charlie winced in sympathy as they walked over and took a seat beside me on the bed, a tray in their hands that they placed on the bedside table before turning to me. “Do you think you can sit up? Have some soup?”
“Yep,” I mumbled as I tried to push myself into a sitting position, but my limbs were unwilling to cooperate. Charlie must have realized this because they stood up and then grabbed me by my armpits and helped me sit up.
“Uh, thanks,” I croaked out, and they gave me a smile before grabbing the soup bowl and resuming their seat. Instead of handing me the bowl as I’d expected them to, they dipped the spoon into the soup before holding it up in front of my mouth. I went a bit cross-eyed as I stared at the spoon, dumbfounded. Were they actually going tofeedme? What kind of weird universe was I in that I was getting taken care of instead of the other way around? What the fuck was happening?
“Come on, take a sip,” Charlie urged, and I opened my mouth. Charlie tilted the contents of the spoon into my mouth, and I sighed as the soup warmed me from the inside. I couldn’t taste it much because my taste buds felt out of whack, but what I could taste was enough to tell me this wasn’t a canned soup. Charlie hadmadethe soup for me?From scratch?
They held up another spoonful of soup, and I obediently opened my mouth. Spoon by spoon, they fed me until I’d emptied the bowl. I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was, but I felt so much better now. Though I knew the takeout I’d been planning to order wouldn’t have cut it the way Charlie’s soup had.
“Okay, lay down and try to sleep, okay?” Charlie said as they stood up. They helped me as I snuggled back under the covers before turning off the lights and leaving the room. I heard the click of nails on the hardwood floor and realized Cherry must’ve followed them out of the room. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come, but unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. I’d never been able to sleep when I was sick, for some weird reason. I knew people usually slept more when they were sick, but for some reason, I was an exception to the rule.
It was a few minutes later that I heard Charlie walk back into the room, though they didn’t turn on the lights. “Hey, Brady, you still up?”
I hummed to let them know I was and waited for them to speak.
“I cleaned up in the kitchen, and I took Cherry out too, so no need to worry about that, all right?”
I opened my eyes and turned to look up at their silhouette. “You took Cherry out?”
“Yeah, she needed a bathroom break. Don’t worry. I cleaned up after her.”
“Thank you so much. I don’t know why you’re doing all of this for me, but thank you.”
“I’m doing this because you’re my friend, and I care about you. Aren’t you sleepy?” Was that an abrupt change of topic or was it just my fever-induced brain?
“Nah, I can’t sleep when I’m sick. It’s awful.”
“Do you…do you want me to sing to you?” Charlie offered in a soft, hesitant voice.
“Sing to me?”
“Yeah, I used to sing for my little brother when he got sick. Only if you want, though.”
“Yes, please,” I whispered softly, and Charlie sat down beside me, their hand coming to rest on my forehead. They ran their fingers through my hair for a few moments before they started singing in a soft, deep voice that felt like honey as it curled around me in a warm embrace. It took me a moment to realize that the words were Spanish. I had no idea what they meant, but the tune was soft and melodious, making my eyes drift close as I let Charlie’s warm voice wash over me. I wasn’t sure how long they sang, but after a while, all I could hear was the soft murmur of their voice, and before I knew it, I was asleep.
7
Charlie
IsanguntilIwas absolutely sure Brady was asleep. I was still surprised I’d offered to sing, but somewhere along the night, I’d switched into the role I used to play for my little brother when we were younger. My mom had died when I’d been ten, and my brother had been just five. And since our dad spent most of his time working, it fell to me to take care of my brother, especially when he was ill. I was used to doing it, which was why I’d so easily taken care of Brady, but now that he was asleep, I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I go home? What if he needed me?
I’d seen how unsteady Brady was when he’d tried walking. I’d also noticed that he’d seemed slightly uncomfortable when I took over, as if he wasn’t used to being taken care of. I wasn’t sure why that was. I didn’t really know much about Brady’s past, but I’d assumed he’d had a happy childhood, but maybe he hadn’t. After all, he did volunteer at a nonprofit that catered to homeless LGBTQ kids. Ugh, I needed to stop assuming things. And I needed to figure out if I should stay or not.
Brady didn’t have a guest room, so I’d have to camp out on the couch if I stayed. I took one last look at Brady’s face, appreciating how handsome he looked even as he slept, his hair covering his forehead. I leaned down and pushed the hair off, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warm, clammy skin before standing up. With one last look to make sure he was covered, I walked out of the room and into the living room, eying the couch as I wondered if I’d fit.
Brady’s place was small, but it had a homey, warm feel to it that my place lacked. There were splashes of color everywhere, from the bright, abstract paintings on the walls to the throw pillows with bright covers on the couch. The carpet had geometric patterns made in primary colors, and the tall shelves beside the television were full of colorful knickknacks, most of which looked handmade. And yet, despite all the colors, the room didn’t feel harsh or too bright in any way. Somehow, Brady had managed to findjustthe right balance to make the room feel warm and inviting instead of an explosion of colors.
I’d noticed that the kitchen was neither well-stocked nor well-used. The only stock in his pantry had been baking-related, which told me that Brady helped out in more than one area of the café he ran. But it also told me that Brady wasnotone for cooking. Well, that was all right because I loved cooking. Thankfully, he had enough eggs and bread that I’d be able to make him a light breakfast tomorrow before having to do a grocery run. Hopefully, he would feel better.
I contemplated going home and then coming back early, but then Cherry raced out of the bedroom, her long hair shining in the low light as she came up to stand near my feet, staring up at me with her dark, button-like eyes. I could feel myself melting under that warm look. “Do you want me to stay, Cherry?”
She woofed happily, as if agreeing with me, and I grinned. “Well, then, will you cuddle with me?”
