War

Chapter Twenty-Two

A/N - I'm back I'm back 🫡

TW: upsetting scenes this chapter

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Aniyah
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I think I was falling for Marco Delgado.

And no, I wasn't coming to this realisation just because of what Lex had said the other day, or the fact that Marco's friends kept saying they could see the way he looked at me...I genuinely believed I was in too deep at this point.

I didn't know what had made it click: whether it was the fact that he seeked my comfort after a nightmare, had made it clear that he enjoyed having me by his side and didn't act like I was invisible, or that he'd been looking after me these past few days while my cramps tried to take me out.

All I knew was that when I fell asleep in his embrace last night...it wasn't gonna be anyone else other than him.

And the thought alone terrified me.

I peered over my shoulder at Marco who was typing away on his laptop while I dusted and reshelved my books in the exact same places they were before; he'd called the activity 'time-wasting' but I couldn't care less, I knew what possessions I'd grab first in the case of a fire.

"You're staring", my husband didn't move his eyes from the screen, fingers still moving speedily across his keyboard. I didn't know what the work he was doing entailed, but I thought I'd leave him to it instead of prying.

"I can't look at you now?", I raised an eyebrow and his gaze met mine instantly- I was almost certain my heart skipped a couple beats as he did so.

"I'd rather me than anyone else", was all he said, returning his attention to the laptop.

How could he say things like that and just carry on?

While I was stunned into silence?

I just hummed, going back to what I was doing while the occasional sniff came from Marco- he'd woken up with one symptom of the flu and had claimed he was near to death.

"What will the date be in twelve days time?", he asked and I turned around, mentally counting with my eyes narrowed before focusing on him.

"The eighteenth", I replied to which he hummed, thanking me and grabbing another tissue from the box he'd placed beside him, "why do you keep looking at me like that?".

"Because I'd rather not have you unwell too, yet you insist on going wherever I go", he sniffed again, wiping his nose and dropping the tissue into the trash can beside the bed.

"It's a runny nose Marco, I'm sure I'll survive", I snorted, "and am I not allowed to take care of you? If this progresses-,".

"Into what?", he cut me off, tone slightly on edge as he closed his laptop, "what would it progress into?". I frowned at his sudden worry, confused as to why he was so on edge now.

"A flu? Stomach bug at the worst-,", he cursed under his breath and practically sprung from the bed, knocking the box of tissues onto the floor in the process, "what is going on?".