AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It's just like I thought it would be - a big staircase in front of the door, a cozy living room to the left with a blanket bunched up on it, a dining room to the right with enough chairs to fit the entire Reeve clan and then some.
"I really don't want to do this, Mel. It's been a fucking day and I just want to nap on the couch and pretend it never happened."
Pretend it never happened? That includes sleeping with me. Shit this is worse than I thought.
"Ash, I said I was sorry. Look I'm not used to all this ... extra stuff that comes with a hook up alright? I've never had a guy make me breakfast after and it freaked me out okay?"
"I get it, I took it too far. I get the hint." Ashton walks away from me back towards the couch where his nest of comfort waits for him. I toe off my shoes and hang my coat on the banister before following him.
Instinctively I put the back of my hand against his forehead assessing his body temperature. With the procedure, they must have given him antibiotics which shouldn't cause a fever but I am guessing he took them on an empty stomach without knowing any better.
"Did you eat anything when you got here? Before you took the meds? Your body is probably pissed that you took them on an empty stomach."
"Wasn't really feeling up for eating when I got here ... "
I hustle towards the dining room, assuming the kitchen will be right around the corner. Lucky for me, I see a box of crackers sitting on the counter next to an old-school wooden breadbox. I take a ream of crackers and fill a glass with water before heading back into the living room where Ashton is still hunched over somewhat sitting but barely.
"Eat a few of these and drink as much of this as you can." I instruct him, putting the glass onto the side table and ripping open the plastic housing the crackers before holding it out to him.
His face barely has any color, he looks like he might be sick and I really don't want to have to deal with that kind of mess.
"Come on Ash, it will make you feel better. If you don't ... your dick might fall off." I lie, hoping the joke grants me at least a small smile and some cooperation from him. I don't get a smile, but he does take a stack of three crackers and a large gulp of water. I will take the partial win.
He chews slowly and we stay quiet for what feels like too long. I sit next to him once I know that he has what he needs, our legs touching softly due to our proximity. I pat my lap, inviting him to lay his head down, knowing damn well that if he is feeling lightheaded or dizzy, the best thing is to be less vertical. No words are needed as he lays down, accepting my invitation and allowing me to feel like I made a small difference.
My fingers instinctively part his hair, brushing it in different directions in a soothing rhythm. Some of it is damp, most likely from his slight fever. I know our body heat together won't help it come down, but I sure as hell won't make him move. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest start to shallow out, a sure sign of him falling asleep. I can even hear a low rumble that resembles a snore coming from him and it brings a smile to my cheeks.
Today has been a day of highs and lows and it's not over yet. I continue brushing his hair with my fingertips.
"Isn't it funny how no one ever did this for me when I was sick growing up, but I know that this is what you do? There's some kind of magic healing power when someone plays with your hair I think." I talk softly to no one, the gentle vibration of Ashton's inhales and exhales on my leg.
"They don't teach it in medical school either but we tell everyone that their loved ones can hear them talking even if they aren't responding. We can heal each other if given the chance. I probably shouldn't say that as someone who works in the medical profession, but I don't think you will tell anyone since you're sleeping."
I trace the shell of his ear, the soft skin with a delicate coating of pale hair. He has a freckle just inside it and I bet his mom used to scrub it extra thinking it was dirt.
"I have a freckle on my pinky toe that no one else knows about. My parents didn't take the best care of me before I went to live with my aunt. And she was too paranoid to help bathe me, so it was all up to me. I became a little obsessed with getting myself clean since I was the only one who actually cared. It was bad enough that my clothes weren't always clean since I didn't know how to do laundry when I was six, but I learned quickly after kids at school started calling me Pigpen - like the kid from the Charlie Brown comics. I wasn't that dirty, or at least I didn't think I was, but it became all I could focus on."
Out of habit, I look to my fingernails to make sure there's no debris under them.
"I was the only one who cared about what those kids said about me. I would go home in tears, walking from the bus stop to our trailer alone, none of the other kids wanting to catch my stench they would say. And when I got there, the door would be unlocked and the kitchen would be empty. There was no one to greet me, no one to ask how my day was, no one to wipe my tears and tell me the kids at school were dumb and I was special. I would heat up whatever I could find in the microwave and eat alone."
I catch the tear that is starting to roll down my cheek before it has a chance to fall on Ashton, fearing it might wake him. Twirling the hair at the nape of his neck like I have before when we were tangled in a kiss or he was devouring my pussy.
"No one ever cared for me so I stopped letting myself care about everyone else. They say you get what you give, but I gave so much to try and get my parents and my aunt to love me. I got the grades to win awards, I kept the house clean and did every chore I could. But I was never enough for them. It sticks with you, ya know? Who am I kidding, you have no clue what that's like. Look at the home you have, and the family who loves you, ready to celebrate your birthday."
My eyes glance over to the evergreen twinkling behind the couch, flecked with ornaments housing pictures of miniature Reeve boys.
"We never had a Christmas tree. I didn't believe in Santa because he never came to my house. I didn't ruin it for the other kids though, I would lie and pretend I got cool toys and make up funny stories of how I saw snowy footprints across my living room. I learned a lot from watching holiday movies, getting lost in the magic of them."
"That explains a lot about why you're so shitty at taking care of yourself. You eat the worst food on the planet even though you're in the medical field and set these crazy rules for yourself so that you can never have any fun. I haven't been able to just sit by and let you live like that ... not when you're missing out on the good parts."
My hands freeze, the realization that he could have heard some or even all of what I just said sinking in and weighing like a metric ton of lead in my stomach. I force down a swallow of nothing but air.
"Which good parts are those?" I ask, my mouth dry and my voice coming out hoarse. I keep my fingers tucked in his hair, a way for me to keep him from looking at me and seeing the sadness on my face. All these feelings that I thought I was working through while he slept now feeling like I ran a full marathon with them on my shoulders. I guess I have been running my whole life carrying them.
"The good parts like a real breakfast served in bed or sex by moonlight. Coming home to the house being a mess but not giving a shit because I cooked you dinner that is almost as good as the orgasms I will serve you for dessert." Ashton's hand reaches up to hold mine.
"And the best part - knowing that someone is at home waiting for you so you don't have to leave the light on."
