Chapter 58

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"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Okay."

"Just okay?" Alastor pried. His closely knit brows furrowed a little as he gave you a hopeful smile. Reaching for you he gently smoothed out your hair, his finger slightly curling around the end of a longer strand and admiring it in his hand before letting it go. "You haven't coughed in a couple of hours, that's a good thing."

"Yeah." You nodded. Your tone flat and unwavering as you spoke. "Head doesn't hurt anymore either."

"That certainly is good." He agreed. "Probably from all the pressure of coughing."

"You read my mind."

"Pardon me if I'm wrong but you seem rather glum, my dear." He said. Concern laced with a hint of sympathy had etched into his features as he looked upon you.

The day had come and went. It was evening now, you spent most of the afternoon fading in and out of naps. Begrudgingly taking medicine when you were supposed to and eating when Al insisted that you needed sustenance; despite your lack of appetite. Your fever had managed to be brought back down and -as he had noted earlier- your cough was in fact being suppressed without issue. However, medicine and rest did very little for how tired and achey you felt. Of course you felt well enough to get up and go to the bathroom as needed, or to change into different pajamas that weren't covered in fever-sweat; but, you definitely didn't feel like yourself. You felt fatigued and lethargic.

Heavy thoughts continuing to bedevil you certainly weren't helping brighten your spirits either.

"I just don't feel good, hun." You said simply. Looking down at your phone as you mindlessly scrolled through social media in some feeble attempt to receive a microburst of serotonin from a funny post. Which you had been doing for a while prior, and it was starting to get on Alastor's nerves a little.

"Just physically?" He asked. "Or...?"

You merely shrugged and continued scrolling without even looking up. Alastor clicked his jaw as he pursed his lips. Watching your thumb swipe across the screen one last time before he swiftly took the phone. Swiping it from you.

"What the fuck?" You asked. Looking up at him with confusion and slight irritation, you reached up to grab it back from him. But he merely poofed it away- like a magician making something disappear right before your very eyes.

"Al, give me back my phone!"

"No. You've had enough screen time."

"Excuse me, but do you pay my phone bill?" You snapped. "Give it the fuck back-"

"Don't yell at me." He said lowly. "You're unplugged as of right now because I'm trying to connect with you."

His smile practically gone which immediately quieted your otherwise irritated tone. Shrinking back where you sat, you sighed and looked up at him expectantly. He continued to look down at you sternly, his expression only softening when he saw that yours finally did as well. Once you had settled back in the bed where you sat, he sat down in the bed beside you and softened his voice.

"I know something is bothering you." He said simply. "And I want you to know that I'm there for you."

"I'm fine."

"You're lying to me." He said quietly. His ears flattening just a little in dismay, but not completely drooping. "If there's something wrong I'd like for you to tell me. Preferably now, not when you've repressed things to the point of having major panic attacks."

Dismally your eyes cast downward at your own fidgeting fingers. Purposely avoiding his gaze that tried to penetrate your own; fearful you might crumble under pressure. He knew you well.

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