37. Glad I Got You

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Luna's POV

August 4th

10:24 am

I barely slept for more than 3 hours at a time last night. Every time Jax would move in his sleep or get up, I'd get up.

He woke up sweating and shaking, still with a fever. It was low-grade now but still worried me.

When was this going to be over?

The exhaustion from yesterday made it hard to get out of bed this morning.

It took him forever to get out of bed, let alone brush his teeth. And he wouldn't let me help him.

It was like playing tug of war with a kid. I was dragging him by the hands and he was pulling back, nearly falling over in the process.

At that point, I'd left him in the bathroom, going to take Bella for a walk and to make breakfast.

By the time I was done in the kitchen, I checked his room and found it empty.

Walking into the bathroom, I found him sitting on the closed toilet, slightly hunched over in nothing but his boxers.

I sighed, leaning on the doorway. "How we feeling?"

He didn't answer but judging by the way his head moved back and forth and the breathing he was doing, I was gonna guess nauseous.

"I just—-uhh...I wanna take a shower." He said, his voice sounding like sandpaper.

"Okay, well let me help you."

I walked over to him and he put his hand up, stopping me from getting closer to him. "No. Le-let me a-at least do this."

"Jackson," I pleaded, pulling his hand away. "Let me help you. Stop resisting."

Even though he looked all pale and sickly, he still managed to give me a glare.

"You know I'm not going anywhere so why bother arguing with me?" I reached over and turned on the shower faucet. "You'd save up more energy if you'd stop fighting me."

A wave of chills seemed to ripple through him because he twitched slightly, staring at the wall behind me and bobbing his head slightly. He was moving like he was on a boat.

He rubbed his nose and let out a heavy breath, already sounding exhausted. I was worried he wouldn't be able to stand up in the shower for longer than a couple of seconds.

Thankfully, Jax's bathroom had a sit-down area. With marble walls and fancy-looking tiles, the bathroom looked like it belonged to a hotel.

I patted his head softly and didn't move away. He pressed his weight into the touch so I combed my fingers through his hair, making little waves.

He sighed and pressed his whole head into my stomach, the weight of his body almost making me fall over. His arms went around my torso loosely and lowered until he was holding onto my thighs.

I frowned and patted his bareback, feeling bad for him.

I hated being sick and hated it even more when basic tasks felt like so much.

The bathroom mirror began to fog up and the air grew thicker with the temperature getting warmer.

I felt his hands grip the back of my thighs and his breathing against my stomach.

I probably looked a mess with my hair up in a loose ponytail of braids and only wearing a big yellow t-shirt. The lack of sleep left me yawning and with half-lidded eyes.

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