Riding on the back of a motorcycle in the middle of the night seemed like a good idea until Natalie had to wake up the next morning to the dull pain of a headache and blocked nose.
She rolled over in her bed, pressing her face deeper into her pillows.
Of course, she had to get sick.
She gave into temptations and now this was her punishment—losing the ability to breathe through her nose.
Her mother sighed from the doorway. "This is what happens when you sleep with that window of yours open."
Natalie said nothing. There was no point, her throat hurt too much anyway, and any noise made her head throb even worse. At least her mum hadn't realised the truth behind her sudden cold.
"Stay warm and rest up. There's congee for you in the microwave." She heard the sound of a mug hitting her bedside table, and the squeak of a plastic water bottle. "You have to stay hydrated, okay?"
Natalie groaned in response. Her mum leaned down to brush the hair off her sticky forehead and pressed a light kiss to her eyebrow.
"Get better soon and call me if you need anything," she said. Before she pulled away, her mum slipped something cold against her hand. Natalie blinked to find the telltale white plastic covering of her favourite Chinese ginger candies. "From your dad."
And with that, her mum left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Sighing, Natalie flipped onto her back.
She held the ginger candy in a closed fist, feeling a sort of existential dread begin to build up in her. She couldn't afford to be sick. She would have so much work to catch up on. And who would she copy notes from anyway? Nyra was barely in half of her classes.
And yet, she was kind of glad. She would never admit it out loud, but she needed a break. Or, she needed an excuse to have a break, and being sick was the perfect excuse to lie in bed all day.
And now it seemed like her dad was starting to get over his whole Leon complex.
She smiled, unwrapping the candy, and biting the end off. It was sticky and got all up in her teeth, but the spiciness cleared her nose and throat, and the sweetness stamped that existential dread down a bit.
She turned onto her side, planning to fall back asleep, only to find a whole box of ginger candies waiting for her on her bedside table. She smiled, shoving the rest of the sticky piece into her mouth, and letting herself relax into the mattress.
As mad as she was at her dad, he knew exactly what could make her feel better sometimes.
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By noon, Natalie was feeling well enough to sit up in her bed and re-read her favourite chapters of Ophelia.
Really, she just wanted some mind-numbing romance to think about instead of all the homework she'd probably have to catch up on tomorrow.
And when she read those mind-numbing romance scenes, her mind took her back to last night—to Leon's arms around her, to watching him fight, to watching him fight for her.
Another burst of butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she wanted to squeal and giggle like a little kid on Christmas day. Her throat was too sore to give in to the urge, and she had no energy anyway, but she still kicked her feet a little under the blanket.
She wanted to relive last night over and over again. The hopeless romantic inside of her had been stirred awake, and she wasn't sure if she could ever stamp it down again.
Sighing, Natalie snapped her book shut. The words seemed to swim on the page, and she could feel sweat building on her forehead and down her back. She wasn't really reading it anyway. All she could think about was Leon—and how sick she felt.
The room around her spun and she closed her eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness.
She felt horrible. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this sick. It was like no symptom was spared. While this morning, she had felt a headache, sore throat, and blocked nose, in the hours since, she'd somehow developed chills, dizziness and body aches.
She shivered, covering her face with her hands.
She should have asked her mum to shut her blinds. The light was too bright. Her head hurt. Even the sounds outside made her head throb—the birds chirping, the cars driving past, the sound of footsteps passing her window.
The sound of her window opening.
Natalie blinked, squinting through the pain of the sunlight to see Leon sneaking in through her window.
"Leon?" she croaked, unsure if she was in the hallucination phases of her fever, or if he was actually there.
"Natalie," he replied, shutting the window behind him. He seemed to hover a few metres away from her and her heart dropped as she realised the situation that she was in.
Not only was she covered in a film of sweat, but her hair was a tangled nest, she was in her pyjamas, and if he came any closer, she'd probably get him sick.
She gasped, sliding lower beneath her covers, her eyes peaking up over the top.
"Don't come any closer," she said, as loud as she could without her throat giving up on her. "I'm sick."
"Sick?" he repeated. His face seemed to drop. "Oh, God. It's because of last night, isn't it? You got too cold. I should've drove slower or—or called you a taxi—"
"It's not your fault," Natalie said. Her voice came out almost like a whisper. Even after she'd scarfed down all those numbing throat lollies, it still hurt to speak. She decided to keep it short. "I was already feeling sick yesterday. I shouldn't have snuck out without warmer clothes."
He stepped closer, opening his mouth to speak, but Natalie held up a silent hand, her eyes wide enough to make him stop.
"You'll get sick," she croaked.
He scoffed. "You think I care about being sick? Look at you. Have you even eaten?"
She pursed her lips in shame and slowly nodded. His eyes narrowed and she had the feeling that he didn't believe her lie.
"And is this all you've drank?" He lifted her half-empty water bottle. She didn't have to answer. He already knew it was. "Natalie! You're lucky I skipped class to come here. Now where do you—Hey, don't even think about speaking, you need to rest your voice. Where do you keep your flu medicine?"
Natalie pouted, swallowing her arguments. There really was no talking Leon out of skipping class anyway. Instead, in a show of complete independence and healthiness, she reached over to her bedside table, pried the drawer open, and pulled out an orange box.
She planned to sit back and wave the box in front of Leon's eyes, as if to show him that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Except, as soon as she rose into a sitting position, her head spun, and she found herself swaying.
Before she knew it, Leon's hands were on her arms, steadying her.
"Woah, woah, woah. Let's get you lying back down," he said, helping her slide back down to rest her head on the pillow. He lifted the blankets up to her chin and tucked the sides around her arms.
"Leon," she began, but he ignored her raspy voice.
"What time did you last take this?" he asked, turning the box of pills over in his hand. He squinted at the back. "You're supposed to eat before taking it."
Natalie sighed. She knew. That was why she hadn't taken any. She wasn't sure if half a pack of ginger lollies counted as food.
"Alright, let's get some food in you," Leon said, standing.
Panicked, Natalie grabbed his arm. He turned to her, and she frowned.
"Leon," she started again. "I can take care of myself. Really."
"I know you can," he said. "You've taken care of me plenty of times. Just let me return the favour, yeah?"
Natalie's frown refused to budge, but Leon simply smiled down at her and readjusted her blankets, tucking her hand back beneath the covers. He brushed her hair back off her forehead and she internally cringed, remembering just how much she had been sweating all morning.
"Rest," he said.
She frowned, trying to sit up again, but she was too dizzy and barely made it an inch off her pillow before falling back. She groaned, holding a hand to her head.
"That's what happens," Leon chided. "Don't push yourself too hard."
"I'm just so dizzy," she muttered.
"I know. You need food and rest," he said. He fixed the blankets that she had messed up and she squinted her eyes up at him.
She wasn't sure if she was hallucinating. Was Leon Hughes really here, taking care of her and her stupid little cold?
How many times had he shown up with a black eye and a busted lip, and hadn't said a word of complaint when Natalie cleaned him up? She felt like such a wimp for being rendered useless from such a tiny thing as a flu.
She released a breath and closed her eyes. As much as she hated letting Leon take care of her like this, she couldn't resist the temptation of sleep, and before Leon could even leave the room, she found herself drifting back into her dreams.
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By the time Natalie woke up again, her headache had reduced to a barely-there throb, and she could almost breathe through her nose again.
She blinked her eyes open, only to find Leon sitting at the end of her bed, her Ophelia book mortifyingly propped open in his hands.
She had thought for a moment that she imagined him being there, but no. There he was. Live and in the flesh. And reading the trashiest romance book she owned.
Great.
She turned her head, noticing that her bedside table had been cleared of her empty mug and half-empty water bottle, replaced with a filled one and organised neatly beside her box of ginger candies and tissue box.
Suddenly realising how dry her mouth was, she reached over, grabbing the bottle, and chugging it down.
"You're awake," Leon said, watching as she drank like she'd emerged from a week-long coma. She gasped as she pulled the bottle away, wiping her lip. He stood. "Wait right there."
Before she could reply, he was out of her room.
She stared at his retreating back, waiting for a moment. When he didn't immediately return, she gazed around her room. How long had she been asleep? Her room had been somewhat tidied. The papers on her desk were arranged into neat piles, her window was shut, and the blinds drawn.
Sitting up slowly, she scooped her Ophelia book into her hands, noticing Leon had bookmarked it about halfway through.
Oh, God.
She must have been asleep for ages.
And he was there.
Watching her sleep.
Even worse, when she flicked the page open to where he'd left off, she saw what exactly he had used to bookmark it. That familiar note, scrawled in Leon's neat handwriting, Your healing hands have saved me once again.
She wanted to die.
Before she could begin debating throwing herself out of her bedroom window, Leon reappeared at her door, a bowl in his hand.
"I hope you don't mind; I found some soup in your microwave," he said. He handed the bowl to her, and Natalie's stomach growled in response. Leon, always the gentleman, ignored it. "At least, I think it's soup."
"It's like porridge," Natalie said. She wished she could smell out of her nose right now. She knew it tasted delicious anyway. Nothing ever beat her mum's congee.
She took a heaping spoonful and immediately sighed in relief. She didn't realise how hungry she'd been. She scarfed down half the bowl before realising he was watching her, his eyes bright with amusement.
She warmed, slowly putting the bowl down on her lap and clearing her throat.
"How long was I asleep?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Almost two hours. You really needed that rest."
She felt her face warm further. "Sorry. You could have left, you know."
"Why would I want to do that? Besides—" he reached over and snatched the book from beside her— "I had this to keep me company."
Natalie choked on her mouthful of congee. She swiped at her mouth, dropping her spoon. Leon, noticing her reaction, laughed.
"Oh, God," she muttered, cringing, "I'm sorry. That book is just—it's not exactly a masterpiece."
"What?" he exclaimed, holding the book to his chest. "Are you kidding me? I couldn't put it down. It was like, every chapter, are they gonna kiss? Are they gonna catch the dude? Plot twist, the dude's not even the thief. And then they have to get a hotel room and there's only one bed—actually, can I borrow this? I need to know how Ophelia reacts."
Natalie blinked at him. No words came to her. He liked the book? She shrank into herself, her neck feeling hot.
"Really?" she asked, frowning at him. "You really liked it?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I mean, it's not exactly Charles Dickens, you know?"
"Not every book has to be Charles Dickens to be entertaining," he replied. "So, is that a yes? I'll take care of it, I swear."
"Of course," she said, still stunned by his genuine interested. She glanced at the faded cover of the book and a thought hit her. She shot up, reaching for it. "Just let me take something out of it for a second."
"Oh," Leon said, flicking through the pages and plucking out the old note from between the pages. "You mean this?"
Now she really wanted to die.
If she thought she was embarrassed before, she was mortified now. She nodded, her whole body feeling hot and stiff. Leon chuckled, turning the note over in his hands before passing it towards her.
"I forgot about that," he remarked.
Natalie couldn't bear to meet his eyes. "I didn't even remember it was in there, honestly. I must have used it as a bookmark or something."
"Huh," Leon said. "Well, you'd better take your medicine now that you've eaten. What time will your parents come home?"
"My mum will be back between four and five. Do you have a match tonight?"
Leon nodded, checking his phone. "I need to get there early to help set up and then warm up."
"Oh." Natalie felt betrayed by the stab of disappointment at his words. Was she so attached that, after spending hours with him, she couldn't bear to see him leave? She tore her eyes away and nodded mutely.
"I've still got plenty of time though," Leon said. Natalie glanced up. He smiled at her, nodding towards her bed. "Budge over, yeah? I've got a chapter to finish."
She was in the middle of shifting to the side when he added, "And take your medicine!"
"I will, bossy."
He laughed, taking his place beside her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Their shoulders were touching. Their thighs were touching. Sure, her legs were under the covers, and his on top, but she could feel his heat.
Suddenly, she wasn't sure if her dizziness was from him or from her cold.
She thought about how much she was sweating earlier in the morning and used the excuse of reaching for her medicine to shift slightly away from him.
After she had swallowed two white pills, she sat back against her pillow, watching Leon out of the corner of her eye.
He sat beside her, his elbow brushing hers as he reopened the book to where he'd left off. She watched him read, his brow furrowed, and his bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he devoured the story. It was only a minute before he turned the page.
Natalie mused on that fact for a moment—that Leon was a fast reader. She wondered what other things she might have known about him if she'd spent an English class with him. What other sorts of books did he read? What did his voice sound like when he read aloud?
She secretly hated the fact that there were girls out there who could answer those questions, who had seen those sides of him.
But they probably hadn't seen this side of him. The side of him who crawls through windows to take care of a sick Natalie and read a cheesy romance book on her bed. The side of him who heated up food for her and bossed her to take her medicine.
How many sides had Natalie seen of him in the short time they'd known each other? How many more sides would she see?
She hoped he never stopped surprising her.
"Hey, stop staring at me and go to sleep," Leon said. Natalie practically jumped at his voice, half-forgetting where she even was at that minute. "What, do you need me to read you a bedtime story?"
Natalie laughed. "It wouldn't hurt."
"You asked for it. He moved closer until she could feel his breath on her cheek. Ophelia's stomach turned as his hands trailed up her waist—"
"Okay, I think I get the picture!" Natalie interrupted. Her face flamed. She hadn't expected him to be up to that scene. Not that it got much spicier than that, but the thought of hearing Leon's voice reading it out loud to her, while sitting next to her on a bed. She felt her pulse quicken at the thought.
"Sleep," he basically ordered her.
She rolled her eyes but slid lower beneath the covers anyway, until her head rested on her pillow. Her eyelids fell shut but she could still feel Leon's stare on her.
"Thank you," she muttered. She had given him a hard time all day about it, but she really did appreciate him coming here, taking care of her.
"Of course," Leon said, like it was no big deal he'd just spent half his day mending her back to health. She felt his hands smooth over the edge of the blanket just under her chin, and then a second later, his fingertips on her forehead, brushing her hair back.
"Get some rest," he whispered.
She fell asleep to the quiet sound of Leon turning pages, the final thought on her mind that she would miss him when he was gone.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hi! I think I'm going to run out of things to say here if I keep updating every day lmao THANK YOU for reading and commenting and voting as always!!! I appreciate you so much!
See you tomorrow??? tee hee