A/N This is a Lomille sick fic I wrote, in honor of my Ading's birthday. Love you Caitee and I really hope you like this! I wish I could take you on a shopping spree while you ride on my back piglet style the entire day, but since I can't, I hope this sicky ficcy romancey sappy flufferness will do ;) HAPPY BIRTHDAY. PS sorry for the lateness, you know my life and my brain…
And I know this is terribly long, but bear with me. You won't be disappointed. Rated T for an erm... Suggestive scene at the end if you know what I mean.
"Logan, you look fine," Kendall said exasperatedly, trying to assure his younger friend for the 15th time that hour that his hair and outfit was perfect, and he didn't have to change his shirt again.
"Are you sure?" Logan asked, his eyebrows rising skeptically. He was dressed in a royal blue t-shirt with velvet printing and a thin black leather jacket over it, and he wore a pair of sharp black jeans with a chain swooping across the pocket. The outfit wasn't exactly his style, but James had more or less dressed him that evening (awkward…) and since James always got the ladies drooling over him, Logan decided to take his fashion advice for once.
"Yes, I'm sure! You're starting to sound like James!' Kendall said. Logan cringed at the comparison, but he still fussed over his perfectly spiked black hair in the hallway mirror.
"Stop picking at your hair like you are a girl, and go get your girl!" Kendall said, his voice raising a bit like it always did whenever he was feeling enthusiastic, trying to pump his anxious looking friend up for the night. The blonde knew this was a big night for his little friend. Logan and Camille were finally getting back together after months of shameless flirting, and tonight was their first date as an official couple again.
"I'm nervous Kendall," Logan admitted in a small voice as Kendall adjusted the collar of his leather jacket for him.
"Don't be, tonight is going to be amazing and Camille is going to have a great time," Kendall said big brotherly, giving Logan's cheek a pat. The brunette smiled shyly and let Kendall shove him out the door.
"Go get her!" Kendall said cheerfully before he slammed the door shut. Logan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and walked down the hall to his girlfriend's apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BTR~~~~~~~~~~~~
Camille rushed around her apartment, searching desperately for her pink lemonade lipgloss, which she remembered had always been Logan's favorite when they had dated. She had a 2-inch heel on one foot, while she held the other one in her hand and hobbled around dangerously. With a hop and a twist of her wrist, she managed to slip the other shoe on and ran to her bedroom, where she found her sweet-tasting lipgloss on her dresser. She then ran to the bathroom mirror and applied the sticky, subtly pink gloss to her full lips and ran her fingers through her long, perfectly curled dark hair. She smiled to herself, confident that she was ready for her date, when she noticed she looked a little paler than usual. The brunette shrugged it off and brushed a little bit of blush to the apples of her cheeks to give them a little more color.
There was a soft knock at her front door, startling her a bit. Butterflies immediately crept into her tummy. She knew Logan was at her door, right on time as usual, ready to take her out on their first date in months.
"Coming Logan!' Camille called through the apartment. She winced when the sound made her throat feel a bit raw. She swallowed thickly and went to the kitchen to drink a quick glass of water. Her throat had been scratchy all day, but she just blamed it on being thirsty. She didn't have time to think anything else of it.
Camille flounced to the front door and opened it with a huge smile on her delicate features. Her heart couldn't help but pound with just the first sight of her handsome Logan standing awkwardly at the front door, a shy and crooked grin on his face. His dimples were a light shade of pink and he held several white and orange lilies tied together with bright pink ribbon out to her.
"Hey Camille," he said timidly. His gorgeous chocolate eyes lit up when Camille took the flowers and leaned forward to embrace his small, yet solid, figure. All of his insecurities seemed to suddenly melt away at this. There was something about Camille that made him feel just a little bit more confident than with anyone else. He knew he could be himself around her.
Camille breathed in deep and sunk into Logan's arms. She hadn't even realized how much she missed her precious boyfriend.
Logan held Camille tightly and buried his nose in her silky dark trusses of hair. It felt so good to have her leaning in his arms again, her head fitting perfectly on his shoulder. The 2 young teenagers stayed like that for several minutes, reveling in each other's company which they had missed dearly.
"You look really pretty Camille," Logan said, pulling back slightly so that he could tuck a strand of curls behind her small ear. Logan always loved her ears for some reason. He found them cute and delicate and kissable. In fact, if he wasn't so painfully shy, he would have kissed them right now, but he didn't want to make things awkward on what could technically be called their first date.
"Not so bad yourself Logan," Camille said flirtatiously. Logan grinned crookedly and held out his hand. Camille took his hand in her small one and intertwined her fingers with his.
"Shall we go, m'lady?" Logan asked cutely. Camille giggled.
"We shall!" She said in amusement. She missed all of Logan's adorable quirks.
"I thought we could walk to that nice restaurant on the beach," Logan said as they exited the Palmwoods, still hand in hand. "We can take a walk on the sand and then maybe see a movie? It's nothing that special, I know, but it'll still be-"
"Logan, that sounds lovely," Camille said, interrupting his babbling. She knew he just wanted the date to be perfect, and not to be cliché or anything, but in Camille's eyes any date he could have planned would be perfect just because he would be with her.
They walked to the beach, which was about a mile away, while they laughed and joked around with each other easily. That was one of many things that they mutually loved about each other, they were both silly and understood each other's humor.
Even though Camille had walked to the beach many times before, it seemed like the short trip was further than normal. After several minutes her legs started to feel a bit weak and shaky, and she was feeling a bit out of breath. It was an unusual feeling for her as she always had great stamina.
Logan noticed that Camille had grown quiet as she pondered her predicament. He squeezed her hand, which was a bit damp with sweat, and looked in her far-away eyes.
"Hey Cam, where'd you go?" He teased lightly. Camille blinked and stared at him for a moment before smiling.
"Oh nowhere sorry," she said with a chuckle. Logan arched an eyebrow in concern when he noticed that the small girl was shivering slightly.
"Are you cold?" He asked gently. It wasn't very cold out, but being that it was night time and she was only dressed in a long sleeved t-shirt and a knee length, ruffled black skirt, the air felt a bit chilly.
Camille shrugged and blushed. The brunette had the chills, especially when the wind blew, but she felt that it was her own fault because she forgot her jacket in the midst of her anxious bustle to get ready for their date.
"I'm fine, Logan, really. We'll be there soon," she said, secretly hoping that they really would arrive to their destination soon. She could see the restaurant up ahead, but it looked impossibly far away.
Logan ignored her comment and slipped off his leather jacket, concerned at the way her small frame trembled. He studied her closely, not taking his eyes off of her as he gently draped the jacket over the sweet girl's shoulders.
"Is that better?" He asked, smiling when Camille nodded gratefully and pulled the warm jacket across her middle tighter. When Logan was sure she was bundled properly, he linked his arms in hers and pulled her close.
"You look good in leather," he whispered mischievously into her ear. Camille blushed scarlet at the rare, husky tone in Logan's voice, which made the boy chuckle and pull her into his side even closer. He loved knowing that he was the only who could make Camille flustered like that.
Camille was about to make a sly, sexy comment back when a sudden head rush left her wavering on her feet. She leaned heavily against Logan, struggling to regain balance, but her knees were wobbling dangerously.
"Whoa, Camille, are you alright?" Logan asked, noticing that his girlfriend had stopped walking and was clutching onto him to keep from falling over.
"Y-yeah," Camille said shakily, pressing a hand to her forehead. The dizziness was clearing up as quickly as it came, and she blinked a few times before deeming it ok to stand up on her own again. Embarrassed, she let go of the death grip that she had on Logan and began to walk on her own.
"Did you just get dizzy?" Logan asked, rubbing Camille's arm gently. He put his arm around her shoulder protectively, and Camille's heart melted at the tenderness in his voice. She shook her head, not wanting to worry Logan any further, but the young doctor wasn't having it.
"Hold on girl, talk to me for a minute," Logan said. He walked ahead of Camille to intercept her and put both of his strong hands on her shoulders. He didn't miss the way her small shoulders were shaking a tiny bit underneath his grip.
Camille smiled shyly and looked down at the swirly patterns in the sand, feeling put on the spot and a bit embarrassed. She was very nervous that she was getting sick on their date. She felt that if she were to admit to not feeling very good, it would ruin everything. This date was too important to her and to Logan, too. She couldn't do that to him.
"Are you feeling ok?" Logan asked her, slipping a finger beneath her lovely chin and tilting it upwards so he could peer into her eyes. She looked a bit off, her chocolate eyes glassy and unfocused, but to his dismay, she nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine Logan," Camille finally said, deciding that it would not be worth it to ruin the date because she was feeling a bit dizzy. Besides, she wasn't feeling all that terrible. She could survive a couple of hours. "You know what, I haven't eaten much today, I bet I am just famished. I'll be fine once I get some food in me."
Logan considered her words for a moment before removing his finger from beneath her chin and winding his arm in hers. He could tell she was a little uncomfortable with all the anxious attention on her so he decided to let it go for now.
"Ok well let's get some food than," he said cheerfully. Camille grinned and they walked arm and arm the rest of the way down the beach.
By the time the couple arrived at the restaurant, Camille was more intent on finding a chair then eating. Her legs felt like jelly and her shivering was incessant now. When Logan pulled out a comfy chair at the table for her, she had to force herself to lower herself down daintily in it rather than collapse onto the cushion like she was about to.
"Camille, are you sure you're ok?" Logan asked, watching the small, flushed girl slightly pant from the small physical exertion. Camille inwardly cringed. She did not want Logan thinking she was ill on their date.
"I promise you I'm fine," Camille said with a smile, pulling out her years of acting chops to try to cover the fact she was sick. She tried to ignore the pounding ache in her head, and the way her body felt cold yet her face seemed to be on fire.
Logan didn't seem too convinced, but he hoped that maybe all she really did need was some dinner. He started to worry a bit less when Camille started joking around and acting like her silly, cute self, but when her food was set on the table, she merely picked at it subconsciously.
"I thought you said you were hungry," Logan said, gesturing to Camille's basically untouched food.
Camille's stomach flipped at the thought of putting a bite in her mouth. The butterflies that had appeared earlier in anticipation of the date had never gone away, and they were now turning into a queasy ache in the pit of her tummy. But when she saw Logan staring at her expectantly, she picked up her fork and shoveled a bite of steak into her mouth. She felt horrible that Logan would buy her a steak without her even eating it. She didn't want to insult him.
"Oh my gosh, it's so good," Camille exclaimed, even though the meaty taste was not sitting well with her at all. She ignored her gag reflex that was protesting her to swallow the bite and swallowed it anyway. Her stomach immediately went into flip flops, but it settled down after a moment thankfully.
"One bite down, just a dozen more to go," Camille thought to herself. She pushed her nausea aside and focused on slowly eating and engaging in conversation with Logan about their lives and crazy antics that kept them on their toes. Throughout the dinner, Camille noticed Logan seemed less and less worried, but she could still feel that he was keeping a close, protective eye on her. She was thrilled that Logan cared so much about her, but at the same time, she was afraid that he would think she was hiding something.
But even though Logan had his suspicions, he kept quiet for her dignity. He knew Camille was a prideful person, and one of the strongest girls he ever met. She would not admit to illness easily, but Logan had enough doctor experience to predict that it was only going to get inevitably worse throughout the night, and when it did, he hoped that she would allow him to take care of her.
After dinner, they headed next door for a movie. Logan's heartstrings tugged at how Camille kept her bubbly, happy personality even though it was clear she was ill as they waited in line for their tickets to the newest, popular horror movie. His instincts were telling him that she was really not feeling good, judging by her slow movements and flushed, sweaty skin, yet she still joked around and held conversation. Rather than call her out on it, though, he physically comforted her instead by keeping an arm around her warm frame at all times and rubbing her back. She kept close to his side, leaning against him a bit for support, which he didn't mind at all. He loved the feeling of her body pressed against his.
During the movie, Logan had to wonder how long Camille would keep the act up. The brunette was snuggled against Logan, head resting on his shoulder. Her dark curls spilled over his chest and tickled his chin, something he found delightful, and he was enjoying smelling the sweet coconut scent of her hair more than he was the actual movie. But when his girlfriend started rubbing her tummy with her hand and whimpered almost inaudibly, his concern was stronger than ever.
"Camille what's wrong baby?" Logan whispered.
Camille Roberts was an actress, and a very good one at that, but even she could not hide the horrible stomachache and raging fever that was starting to take over her body. She moaned and curled in on herself, the small reclining seats suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, especially when they rocked with each movement she made.
"I'm ok," she choked out in a strangled whisper.
"No, you're not," Logan said, placing a hand on Camille's warm cheek and stroking the flushed, soft skin tenderly with his thumb. "Please tell me what's wrong."
"My stomach hurts," she finally admitted, blushing with embarrassment. Camille felt humiliated. This was their first date back together as a couple. It was supposed to be special and romantic, but as of now she could not even sit up straight her stomach hurt so badly. Camille felt like a horrible girlfriend.
"You're running a fever," Logan announced, pressing his knuckles against his girlfriend's forehead. He was ashamed at himself for letting her sickness go so far. He should have taken her home when she first felt dizzy on the beach. "You really don't feel good, do you baby?"
Camille shook her head, forcing back tears and bile as her ravaged stomach did endless flipflops. Without warning, the young, sick girl stumbled to her feet and half-ran, half-limped out of the theater, leaving Logan confused. He had an idea of where she might have left in such a hurry for. He contemplated going after her for a moment, afraid that she might get angry at him for following her, but Logan's worried doctor and boyfriend instincts combined finally got the best of him and he hurried as fast as he could down the dark, theater steps into the brightly lit lobby.
Logan stood at the door of the girls restroom, feeling heat creeping up the back of his neck at what he was about to do. He looked around the empty theater lobby, thankful that it was late at night and the only people left in the theater were watching the horror movie and not around to see a teenage boy enter a girl's restroom.
"Camille?" Logan asked, pushing the heavy black door open and stepping inside the large but dainty bathroom. The door thudded behind Logan and he jumped, realizing he was in dangerous territory now. What if Camille wasn't the only girl in the restroom? What if he was caught and beat to a swollen Logan pulp like he had been when he, with outrageous stupidity, thought it would be perfectly acceptable to dress up as a girl for the sole purpose of taking a math lesson?
Logan's thoughts about getting maimed by women quickly vanished when a retching sound echoed off the red and white tiles of the bathroom, followed by a tiny, pained whimper. Logan opened up several stainless steel doors as he tried to find his ill girlfriend, worry building up in the pit of his stomach until he finally found her, collapsed on the cold bathroom tile and clutching the toilet bowl with a death grip.
Camille blinked up at him with glassy, feverish eyes and pouted. "I threw up," she said, her voice resembling that of a little girl who wanted her mommy.
"Oh Camille," Logan breathed, kneeling beside her. He pushed her hair back and studied her pale, sweaty face. "You're so sick, baby."
Camille whimpered and leaned into Logan's chest, resting her burning forehead against his t-shirt. Logan held her for a while, stroking her silky strands of curls in hopes of soothing her. His calm, strong presence instantly comforted her, but just a couple minutes later, her painful heaves started again.
Logan felt Camille convulse in his arms and he leaned her gently over the toilet, knowing what was coming next. "It's ok Camille, I'm right here," he said softly, rubbing her quivering back sweetly. "It'll be over soon, just let it out."
"No, I don't want to throw up," Camille said, shaking her head and trying to pull away from the toilet. It hurt too much to throw up. It made her stomach and throat raw.
Logan countered Camille's resistance easily, holding the sick girl in place with his large biceps by wrapping an arm around her stomach and leaning over her. He rubbed her tummy, feeling it contracting with heaves underneath his hand. She needed to stop trying to hold it back.
"I got you Camille, you're alright," Logan said, pulling her long hair away from her face with his free hand. Tears streamed down Camille's heated cheeks as she vomited whatever was left in her stomach. Logan could feel her tiny body shake violently beneath him, but he held her steady and kissed her neck between whispering words of encouragement. Finally, the painful ordeal was over and Camille slumped heavily against her comforting boyfriend's chest.
Logan reached over and flushed the sick down the toilet so the smell wouldn't make Camille need to vomit again, then leaned back against the bathroom stall and gathered the panting girl into his arms. He wiped her tears away with his thumb and rested his head on top of hers. Camille moaned and clutched her stomach, and Logan removed her arms so he could rub slow, circular motions on her aching tummy, hoping to calm her down a bit.
"You ok?" He asked after a couple minutes of silently allowing Camille to recover from the vicious attack on her tummy. He had texted Kendall saying that Camille was sick and they needed a ride to the apartment, and Kendall had replied saying he'd be there shortly. "Kendall is going to pick us up so we don't have to walk home."
Camille nodded, and shakily got to her feet with Logan's assistance. He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her walk outside, where Kendall was waiting in the BTRMobile. Logan carefully sat Camille in the back seat and crawled in beside her so he could keep an eye on her.
Kendall gave Logan a sympathetic pout when they arrived to the apartment. Logan smiled sadly at him.
"I'll be back later tonight, I need to make sure she's ok," the brunette said. Kendall caught his arm and leaned in close to his ear.
"Dude, this is your chance. Every girl loves a guy who can take care of them," Kendall said. Logan blushed. He had the feeling that Camille was nothing more than humiliated at the moment. "Maybe your first date isn't all bad."
"Yeah, we'll see about that," Logan whispered back. He helped Camille out of the car and walked her up to her apartment, where he went into doctor mode.
"Ok girl, I need you to lie down while I go find some supplies," Logan announced, bringing her to the couch.
"Logan-" Camille tried to protest, but Logan pushed her down onto the soft cushions and placed a throw blanket from the back of the couch over her shivering body.
"Ah-ah, no, ssh," Logan instructed. "You, ma'am, will lie here quietly and let me take care of you, ok?" Logan placed his forefinger on Camille's cute button nose playfully, making her smile.
"You don't have to," Camille said, ignoring the pain in her throat when she spoke.
"But I want to," Logan said, eyes widening in mock hurt. "When is your dad due home?"
"He's on a business trip, won't be home for 2 more days," Camille said, burying her face in a pillow.
"Well you can't be home sick alone," Logan said.
"I'll be fine, it's not the first time," Camille muttered.
"No way Camille. I'll text Mrs. K and tell her I'm spending the night."
"No Logan you don't have to stay here with me," Camille argued, but Logan ignored her as he typed out a text to his surrogate mother explaining why he wouldn't be coming home tonight. He then scoured her bathroom for Tylenol and a thermometer and whatever else he would need to take care of her overnight.
Camille looked unhappy when Logan placed the thermometer under her tongue. Her cheeks were blushed scarlet and not just from the fever. Logan wondered why she seemed to be so embarrassed around him. He wanted her to be comfortable around him no matter what.
Camille tried to read the thermometer herself when it beeped, but Logan snatched it from her hands and gave her a sly smile.
"Hey now, I'm the doctor here," he said as he read the high numbers on the tiny device. "One hundred and two! Camille you're burning up." Logan frowned with sympathy, and she ducked her head shyly. Logan gave her a couple of Tylenol pills with a glass of cold water and watched her drink it down with concerned eyes.
"Thanks Logan," Camille croaked, and Logan winced at how painful her voice sounded. "You really don't have to stay. You can go now if you want. I'll be fine for the rest of the night."
"Not so fast," Logan said. "I don't want to leave you, baby." He tucked a strand of hair behind her beautiful little ear. "Tell me what hurts?"
Camille sighed, knowing that Logan could be relentless when he needed to be. "My stomach, my head, my throat."
Logan squeezed Camille's knee. "I'll be right back, ok?" The young doctor went to find a washcloth and soaked it in cold water before he brought it back to Camille, placing it on her hot forehead.
"You wanna cuddle?" Logan asked, and Camille's dull, exhausted eyes lit up for a brief second at the aspect of snuggling with her boyfriend, but she didn't want to get him sick.
"I do but I don't want you to have my germs," Camille admitted. Logan shook his head and sat next to Camille so he could gather her into his arms, practically engulfing her entire body with muscle.
"I don't care if I get your germs Cam, I want to hold you," Logan said into her coconut scented hair. He tangled his fingers in her soft locks and ran them through gently, brushing his fingertips along her scalp. Camille couldn't argue with that. She melted into his arms and closed her eyes, concentrating on the rhythm of Logan's fingers in her hair.
"Go to sleep baby, I'll be here the whole time," Logan cooed. He gave each of her eyelids a kiss to rid away any left-over tears, chuckling at the sensation of her fluttering lashes tickling his lips. He felt Camille relax against him and nuzzle her cheek against his chest. Her labored breathing slowly turned into content snoring.
Throughout the evening, Logan kept a constant check on Camille's fever, watching her sleep intently. Even when sick she was beautiful, he realized. Her skin was pale and her cheeks were a burning red, and the way she was so vulnerable and clung onto Logan made his heart swell. Every time she moaned or fidgeted, he would bring her in tighter and kiss her warm face, muttering quiet words of comfort until she settled back down. He would shake her awake gently every few hours to administer medicine to lower her temperature, but she was hardly conscious and would fall right back to sleep after.
It was the middle of the night and Logan was beginning to doze off when the warm bundle in his arms started shaking violently with a coughing fit. Logan's eyes shot open and he pulled back the blanket to see Camille's face contort in pain with each congested cough. He quickly sat her upright and patted her back to get her through the coughing fit.
"Are you alright sweetie?" Logan asked when the coughs subsided, running his thumb along Camille's smooth jawline. The brunette finally opened her eyes and blinked, trying to focus on Logan through the darkness and fever.
"L-Logie?" She asked, sounding confused and small.
"Yeah, it's me, I'm right here," Logan said.
"You're still here?" Camille asked, as if she couldn't believe it.
"Of course I am, I'm not gonna leave you Cammy," Logan said, and the sick girl threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, whimpering. Logan was taken aback, not used to the usually energetic, independent girl acting so vulnerable. He knew she must have been feeling really awful to act like this. He kind of liked this side of Camille, even though it hurt him inside to know she was so miserable.
"I'm going to get you some ice water. I'll be right back ok?" Logan asked, making sure it was alright with Camille if he went to the kitchen for a moment. He didn't want to scare her. She nodded with understanding, and Logan laid her down and tucked the blanket around her shoulders before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water, a straw, and some cough syrup.
"Here you go baby," Logan said, placing the straw to her Camille's lips. She drank half the glass thirstily. "Slow down baby, I don't want you to get sick," Logan cooed, taking the glass away. He filled a teaspoon with cough syrup and placed the spoon in Camille's mouth. She swallowed it bitterly, not very happy that Logan made her drink the nasty, thick fluid.
"It'll help you feel better," Logan assured Camille at the look of distaste on her face. He rested his palm on her forehead and cringed. "You're still so hot. Does your stomach still hurt?"
Camille nodded. She was too lethargic to create an audible answer. Logan tucked one arm beneath her knees and one arm beneath her back and picked her up in one swift movement, cradling the sick girl to his chest. Camille whimpered and held her nauseous stomach at the sudden change in heights.
"It's ok sweetie, I'm taking you to your room to lay down. It will be comfier," Logan whispered. He carried her to the bedroom and laid her down in her queen-size, royal blue bed. He made sure she was snug on her pillow before crawling in next to her.
"L-Logie!" Camille suddenly whimpered out. Logan leaned over her and cupped her cheek.
"Camille what's wrong?" He asked, worried that she was in pain. Trembling, pale fingers gripped his wrist weakly and glassy, feverish eyes peered into his.
"Don't leave me," Camille said groggily, and Logan was sure she was already half asleep and delirious with fever.
Logan relaxed, stroking her cheek tenderly. He felt an odd surge of pride from being needed. His girlfriend needed him. He could get used to that. "I'll be here all night, sweetie," he said, placing his lips on her burning forehead. She sighed and allowed herself to close her eyes. Logan curled up against Camille, pressing his chest against her sweaty back. He wrapped his arms around her torso and rubbed her stomach absent-mindedly until they both fell asleep.
Logan awoke to the sounds of soft coughing. As he slowly drifted into consciousness, a bit confused as to where he was, he became aware that he was holding something shivery and damp tightly in his arms. He opened his eyes to see his girlfriend, looking smaller than ever, asleep in a tangle of blankets. Camille was practically lying on top of Logan, her legs intertwined with his and arms clinging around his neck and waist. Despite being unconscious, she let out squeaky coughs every now and then, but they weren't nearly as bad as they had been the night before.
Logan grinned at his girlfriend's awkward and cuddly choice of position and rested his hand on her forehead. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found Camille's head to be much cooler, the high fever almost broken completely.
"Logan?" Camille moaned, shaking her head back and forth slightly as if to try and bury her face even deeper into his neck.
"Hey sweetie, did I wake you up?" Logan asked, running his fingertips along the length of Camille's spine.
"Mmm, no," she said groggily. Her long lashes blinked a few times, before jolting wide awake. Her cheeks and neck immediately became pinker then cotton candy when she realized how much she was smothering Logan. She rolled off of him, which took quite some strength, and sat up straight to chatter off an apology.
"Logan, I'm so sorry! You could have just pushed me off! I got you all sweaty and germy and-"
"Ssh," Logan said, amused at how flustered she became. He pressed his forefinger to her lips and grinned with sparkling eyes. "I don't mind baby. It was actually kind of nice, having you as my blanket."
Camille blushed even harder, running a hand through her damp hair. She felt absolutely ridiculous. "I really am sorry. I'm clingy when I'm sick."
"Camille, don't worry about it," Logan said with a laugh, removing Camille's arm, which she was shielding her red face with. "Hey, how are you feeling? Tell me everything."
"I feel… Better," Camille said. "A little headachey and really tired, but better. How'd you do it?" She asked, impressed with her boyfriend. Logan shrugged, and a half smile broke out on his face.
"I guess I'm just magical that way," Logan said shyly. "Do you need anything? Some water, or medicine? How is your stomach? Do you still feel like throwing up?"
Camille managed a chuckle at Logan's slur of anxious questions. She did not understand why he felt the need to wait on her hand and foot. "Just a bath, I feel all sticky and icky. I'll go run one. You can stick around if you like. We can eat some breakfast together. I might feel up to some toast later or something." Camille started to head to the bathroom, but she let out a funny-sounding hoarse squeal when Logan suddenly came up behind her and lifted her off her feet.
Logan immediately started laughing at the sound his girlfriend had made. "Girl, what just came out of your mouth?"
Camille giggled. "My throat hurts, I can't help it! Now why aren't my feet on the floor like they're supposed to be?"
Logan giggled as well and brushed his nose against Camille's, making the girl blush pink. "Well I thought it was adorable. And because, you are not doing anything, remember? You lay here and rest and I'll run your bath for you."
Logan gently placed Camille on the bed. She bounced onto the pillows and pouted.
"I hope you at least let me undress myself," Camille muttered as Logan left for the bathroom, and she could see the back of his neck turn scarlet as he quickly disappeared around the corner.
Logan turned the bathtub faucet as hot and strong as it could go. He watched the rush of water quickly fill up the tub until he thought of something. He opened up Camille's bathroom cabinet and peered in moving around bottles of shampoo and shower goods until he found what he was looking for, a huge bottle of bubbles. He smirked when he saw that they were strawberry scented. There was something about Camille's soul that just screamed "strawberry" to him.
Logan uncapped the lid and poured in probably a bit too much of the creamy liquid into the tub, then went to retrieve Camille.
"Hey, your bath is almost ready," he announced. "How about I make you some breakfast while you soak and then we can eat together?"
Camille was touched by Logan's unnecessary sweetness. She had to hold herself back from jumping into his arms and planting sloppy, germy kisses all over his gorgeous, dimply face. She would have to save that for another time when she was healthier.
"Sounds good," Camille said. Logan nodded and closed Camille's door to give her some privacy and went about setting up breakfast in the kitchen. He decided that Camille should really only have dry toast, so he started toasting several slices of bread and poured 2 glasses of orange juice, then set them on the glass dinette table off of the kitchen. He took a step back and studied his tiny breakfast "feast" for a moment before deciding it needed something.
Logan hurried out of the apartment to the room 2 doors down, which, despite the fact that it was 10 AM, was still quiet and fast asleep. He plucked 2 of Mrs. Knight's carnations, one pink and one red, from her flower pot and ran back to 4J. He set the flowers on the middle of the small table and smiled. Flowers were something that always cheered Camille up, hopefully they had the same effect when she was sick, too.
After making sure breakfast looked good Logan went over to the couch to wait for Camille to emerge from the bathroom, but after 10 minutes, she still hadn't come out yet.
"Hey Cam, you ok in there?" Logan asked, knocking on the bathroom door. He waited a moment before her she answered in a weak voice,
"I'm ok, Logie."
"Are you sure?" Logan asked, not liking the sound of Camille's voice. "Are you feeling alright?"
Again, there was a moments silence, and then,
"Not really, Logan."
Logan's stomach plummeted to the floor. He wasn't really sure what to do. Should he go in and help her, despite the fact that she was most likely still in the tub?
"What's wrong sweetie?" He asked, worry seeping through his voice.
"My stomach hurts again," Camille groaned. It sounded like she was starting to cry now. Logan couldn't just stand there and do nothing while his girlfriend suffered.
"It's ok Cam, I'm coming in, is that ok?"
Camille "Mmhmm'd", and Logan drew in a deep breath and entered her bathroom. Camille was curled up in the bathtub, knees drawn to her chest and bubbles covering her creamy, pale skin up to her shoulders. Logan ran to the tub and kneeled there, wiping strands of wet hair from the girl's tear-streaked face.
"Oh my gosh, you're freezing," Logan exclaimed. Camille was shivering violently in the now room-temperature water. She looked up at him with fever-blown eyes that begged for help. Logan squeezed her wet shoulder assuredly.
"You're going to be ok, Cam. I'm so sorry," Logan said, feeling terrible that she was so sick again. He looked around the tiny room to find a soft, fluffy white bathrobe. He wasn't quite sure how to get her out of the tub while saving her dignity, though. She definitely needed assistance getting out of the tub, but there was no way she could stay in the quickly cooling water another minute.
"I'm going to help you out of there now and we'll go lie down on the couch," Logan explained to the feverish girl. She nodded, barely registering his words in her foggy mind. Logan pressed a hand to her forehead to find it burning up.
Logan wrapped the robe around Camille's shoulders, than braced her arms with his hands by wrapping them around her skinny biceps. He then pulled his girlfriend up and wrapped the robe snugly around her waist in a one quick motion to save her modesty before snaking one arm behind her back and one beneath her knees to lift her up and out of the tub.
"Oh, I don't feel good," Camille said, holding her middle with her arm. Logan gently placed her to her feet and helped thread her arms through the holes in her robe so she would be covered better. Although Camille was acting listless, Logan noticed she was eyeing the toilet warily.
"Are you going to throw up?" Logan asked, holding Camille steady by her shoulders. The sick girl was beyond embarrassed to feel her gut do a painful flip. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up again, but no matter how desperately she tried to will the terrible feeling away, she could feel the vomit slowly creep up her throat.
In a dizzying daze Camille found herself on her knees with her head over the toilet, retching painfully. She was only aware of a strong hand rubbing a steady rhythm onto her back and sweet words being whispered into her ear as she threw up violently.
"Logan I'm sorry," Camille muttered when the heaves were finally finished, fat tears rolling down her scorching face. Logan frowned and wiped the corners of his girlfriend's mouth with a wetted down washcloth.
"Don't you be sorry, Cam," Logan said, peering into her dark eyes. "It's ok. I just want you to feel better. Come on, I have to get your fever down. Let's get you to bed." Careful not to worsen her nausea, Logan carried Camille back to her room and laid her gently on her pile of comforters. She immediately sunk into them, curled up her bare, pale legs, and closed her eyes.
"No, no Camille, Don't fall asleep yet," Logan said softly but frantically. He shook her shoulder, but she shrugged his hand away.
"No, the ponies," Camille muttered. Logan was confused for a second.
"The what? Oh, Camille your delirious baby," Logan cooed, rubbing his palm along her cheek and jawline to get her attention. Finally, her fever-glazed eyes met his concerned ones, but they had trouble focusing on him. Logan wondered for a minute if she was even aware that he was there anymore.
"Camille, it's me Logan, you need to stay awake for me ok sweetie?" Logan asked sweetly, as if he were speaking to a 5 year old. Camille nodded, despite the fact that she could not comprehend what he was trying to tell her, and Logan took the chance to get a thermometer, a bottle of Tylenol, a cool washcloth, and a bottle of water. When he returned, though, she was fast asleep.
"No, Camille you need to wake up," Logan said in a high pitched voice. He was afraid of her falling asleep before he could start getting her fever down. Just as he suspected would happen, Camille was near impossible to wake up. He muttered a mild cuss word under his breath and tried to slip the thermometer under Camille's tongue, but she kept flinching away and whimpering. It was impossible to keep the thermometer underneath her tongue.
"Ugh I really hope you don't remember this," Logan said. He pulled her robe back slightly, nearly exposing her chest, and stuck the device underneath her arm instead. Camille moaned when the cold metal tip hit the heated area, but she didn't fight in her sleep like she had been when it was under her tongue.
Logan stroked Camille's hair while he waited for the device to gage her temperature. It seemed to take ages to beep, but when it finally did, he quickly but gently pulled it out and read the numbers hurriedly.
"Damn it," Logan said under his breath. She was running a fever of one hundred and four point seven. He had to get her fever to a safer number. If it got any higher, he would have to take her to a hospital, and he didn't want to have to do that. He wanted to be the one to nurse her back to health.
Logan put Camille's neck in the crook of his elbow, placed 2 fever reducers on the back of her tongue, and poured a small amount of water in her mouth. He gently tipped her head back and she swallowed the pills on reflex. He then wiped her face down with the washcloth and rested it against her forehead.
"Come on Camille, you gotta fight this fever," Logan encouraged softly, running his fingers through her hair. He watched her sleep for a couple minutes before she started fussing, kicking her legs weakly and making tiny moaning sounds in the back of her ravaged throat. She was obviously in the grasp of a horrible nightmare.
"Camille it's ok, honey wake up," Logan said loudly, trying to shake her into consciousness again. Camille let out a strangled whimper, but refused to wake up. She threw her side to side and started mumbling something incoherently. Logan leaned down to her ear and struggled to hear her. She was thrashing about now, sweat running down her forehead and dampening her hair.
"What are you saying baby?" Logan asked, shaking her again. Camille's word became more audible now as she got closer to waking up.
"Dad!" Camille cried. "Daddy!"
Logan frowned and stroked the girl's cheek. "I'm sorry, baby. Your daddy isn't here," Logan said, wondering if it would be a good idea to call her father and tell him to come home as soon as he could.
Finally, Camille's eyes shot open and she screamed loudly. It was a scream that would put any horror movie actress to shame, and Logan gathered her up in his arms on instinct and held the now crying girl to his chest.
"Ssh, ssh, it's ok Camille I got you. You're alright," Logan soothed, rubbing his hand up and down her sweaty, quivering back. "It was just a dream baby. You're safe."
"I want my dad," Camille whimpered, breaking Logan's heart. There was no way he could give her what she needed, when what she longed for was so far away.
"Your dad will be home soon," Logan cooed, bringing Camille away from his chest so he could look into her eyes. "He'll be here soon ok baby? Until then you got me. Logan's going to take care of you, ok?"
Camille didn't even appear to hear Logan. She wouldn't even look at him. She just continued to cry softly, lying lethargically in his arms.
"Camille?" Logan asked, trying to get her attention. The brunette was unresponsive. Logan's stomach clenched with worry. She was extremely lethargic, unaware of anything going on around her. She whimpered out for her father one more time, this time very quietly.
"Ok I need to take your temperature again Camille," Logan said, fearing that her fever was only getting higher instead of lowering, despite the double dose of fever reducer that he had administered to her.
Logan placed the thermometer underneath Camille's arm and held it there while speaking softly to her. Even though she was so dazed and unable to concentrate from the high fever, he didn't want her to think that she was alone while she was so sick.
The thermometer beeped, and this time the numbers read one hundred and five point three. Logan had to re-read the numbers, hoping his mind was just playing tricks on him. That fever was way too high, to the point of being dangerous. And the fact that her temperature was raising so quickly alarmed him. He decided he would try to lower the fever once more on his own, but if it wouldn't budge within the next 20 minutes, he would rush her to the emergency room.
"I'm going to be right back baby," Logan said, squeezing Camille's hand, but her hand didn't squeeze back. It just lay wide open, sweaty and still. Logan rubbed his temples. He was starting to get scared. Only once before had he witnessed a fever this high, and that was when Carlos had contracted the flu about a year ago. The Latino always ran high temperatures, and Logan had had Mrs. Knight to nurse the sick boy back to health.
"Ok Logan you can do this," Logan said in a squeaky voice, trying to give himself a pep talk since Kendall was not around to give him one. The young doctor ran to the kitchen in a near state of panic and opened the freezer, scanning the small space for ice packs. When he finally found some, he grabbed them and quickly headed to Camille's bedroom.
His girlfriend was sleeping again, and the only way Logan could even tell she was alive was the way she let out tiny whimpers every couple of minutes.
Logan placed one ice pack on the washcloth on Camille's forehead and stuck the other two under her arms. A minute passed and she started shivering because of the freezing cold in contrast to her intense body heat. Her poor little body was so confused.
"It's ok Camille, it'll get better soon," Logan said. He felt bad for making her shiver so hard, but he knew it would be an effective way to lower the fever that raged inside of her.
Logan crawled into bed next to Camille, and she curled up against his side as soon as he lied down. He rested his chin on the top of her head, feeling the heat radiate off her scalp. Camille was whimpering again, with tiny, crystal tears slipping from beneath her long, fanned-out lashes. Logan rubbed them away with his thumb and planted kisses to her head, trying to make her feel loved and safe.
Every ten minutes Logan would set the icepacks elsewhere. He set one on the back of her neck, and moved the 2 under her arms to sit on top of her robe near her inner thighs. He wiped down her temples and neck with the wet washcloth. Before long, the ice had actually melted and the washcloth was warm.
"You are too hot baby girl," Logan murmured into Camille's hair, removing the sloshy icepacks. "Why can't I get your temperature down?" The perplexed boy wrinkled his forehead and rubbed it with thought, his doctoral mind going through the rolodex of different solutions to treat a high fever. Temped baths, double dose of fever reducers, and ice packs should have all done the trick by now, unless there was another underlying cause for the fever besides the flu. Logan's heart dropped at that thought. What if his girl was sicker than he originally thought, with more than just a virus?
"What's going on with you baby?" Logan whispered, stroking the side of Camille's face tenderly. He wished she could just tell him. But at this point, Logan didn't even know what was hurting her anymore, and she was too delirious to tell him what was wrong.
Despite being reluctant to leave Camille's side, Logan left for the kitchen so he could refreeze the ice packs. He realized he hadn't eaten or drank anything all day, so he grabbed a glass of water and drank it quickly to soothe his parched throat.
After finishing up in the kitchen, Logan headed back to the bedroom, expecting to find Camille still fast asleep. He was stunned and scared when instead she was jerking rigidly upon her bed with frightening spasms.
"Camille!" Logan yelled, running to her side and holding her convulsing limbs. He was completely brain dead for all of 2 seconds, wondering what was happening to his girlfriend, when his doctor intelligence kicked in.
Logan rolled the spasming girl onto her side and propped her head with a pillow. He knew right away what was happening, she was having a febrile seizure, something rare but not unheard of in teenagers her age. He knew they were harmless, but also that there was nothing he could do for her seizure. He timed the convulses carefully, making sure they didn't last dangerously long, and he sighed in relief when after 60 seconds Camille's body finally relaxed.
"Oh you poor thing," Logan said, rubbing the exhausted girl's back. Camille whimpered, but stayed asleep. Logan felt her forehead to find it still burning up. Her fever was so high that it was giving her seizures. Logan's heart was breaking. There had to be something he could do.
"Here sweetie, take some more medicine," Logan said, placing one more pill on the back of her tongue. He poured some more water down her throat, a little bit more than last time because he was afraid she might dehydrate soon. After that, Logan grabbed the icepacks from the freezer again, even though they weren't frozen all the way through yet, and went through the process of placing the packs sporadically on Camille's body while wiping her down with a cool washcloth and a bowl of icy water. He held her the entire time, keeping her safe in his arms.
"Logie," Camille suddenly moaned, stirring in his arms but not quite waking up yet. Logan froze, not sure if he heard correctly because her voice was so weak. But when she said it again, he couldn't help the smile that broke onto his dimpled cheeks. Logan squeezed her tightly and kissed her damp cheek.
"I'm right here, Cam. I gotcha," Logan cooed, running his hands over her back and shoulders soothingly. Camille relaxed against him, and her hand grasped his bicep and squeezed it as if she was making sure he was really there. Logan felt so relieved. She still had a while to go, but she was starting to become aware of her surroundings again. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open, glassy, chocolate-brown orbs making contact with his. He looked down at Camille and smiled warmly.
"I don't feel good," Camille croaked. She slowly raised her hand to her sore throat and rubbed it, which took way more energy than it should have. Logan took this opportunity to try and get a straight answer as to what was hurting her.
"I know you don't baby," Logan said, pressing his knuckles to her forehead. It was still hot, but it wasn't on fire like it had been about an hour before. The medicine and icepacks were finally working. He took the washcloth from the bedside table, dipped it in cool water, and wrung it out and folded it before placing it on Camille's forehead. "Can you tell me what hurts?"
Camille just moaned and buried her face in the crook of Logan's neck. Logan stroked her cheek, frowning. He had noticed that she was squinting, as if the small amount of daylight coming in through the window was bothering her.
"Does your head hurt?" Logan wondered. Camille was still for a second, and then she nodded. Logan carefully removed the fragile girl from his chest and closed the blinds, than shut the curtain to block any sun from the room.
"Can you tell me what else hurts?" Logan asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing Camille's tummy. He made to keep his voice a soft, steady whisper so it wouldn't make her head hurt worse. "Do you still have a sore throat?"
Camille nodded once, her eyes drifting closed again.
"Does your stomach hurt? Do you need to throw up again?" Logan continued the questions, wanting to get the most accurate answers before she fell asleep again. He pressed his hand to her upper stomach, feeling for any constricting muscles that would indicate she might need to vomit.
Camille shook her head. She opened her mouth to talk, but started coughing before she could get any words out. She looked to Logan with pained eyes, and he continued rubbing comforting patterns onto her stomach with his fingertips.
"I'm hot," she said finally, feeling like her skin was on fire.
"I know, you're running a high temperature," Logan explained, letting her know what was going on so she wouldn't get scared. "It's getting better, though. You have a really bad flu, I think. Do you think you will be ok, or do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
Camille had been starting to fall back into a slumber, but her eyes shot back open at the word "hospital." She had pure panic etched on her face, ready to burst into tears at any moment.
"No, no hospital," Camille pleaded, a single tear escaping, but Logan was quick to kiss it away.
'"It's ok sweetie, I won't take you if you don't want me to. I'll make you better, ok? Just hold on a little bit longer, ok baby?"
Camille barely registered his words, struggling to stay awake. Logan stroked her hair and lay down beside her, placing her head on his chest. She whimpered and turned to her side, slinging an arm across Logan's stomach. Logan held her tightly and rubbed her back. He tried to think of what he could do to console the sick girl. He remembered back when he was really little, and his mother used to sing him to sleep. It always made him feel warm and safe. Maybe it would have the same effect on her.
"Go to sleep sweetie," Logan cooed. He started singing the first song that came to mind, which was also one of Camille's favorites.
"Curtains open up the scene, spotlight shine on you and me tonight. Pretending for the crowd below, we put on a real good show. But it's a lie, but it's a lie. We can't help but cause a fight, it's the same old drama every night. I walk off stage cause this whole play is more than I can take, woah, I don't want it to be over, but we need a break before you break my heart. And oh, we can't live this scene forever, right now me and you are better, better off apart. But I'll still love you when the lights come up, for our intermission."
Logan continued singing until his sweet, gentle lilt lulled Camille to sleep and he heard her softly snoring. Logan watched her sleep in his arms and got comfy against the pillows, knowing that he would be there for a really long time, and that he would stay there however long it took until Camille was better. Soon, he fell asleep as well, his head resting on Camille's, holding her tightly to his chest.
The first thing that Camille was aware of when she woke up was that she was soaking wet. She felt like somebody had pushed her into a swimming pool. Her head felt achy, her throat scratched like needles, and her chest was heavy with congestion.
Another thing she noticed was that she could not move. Something was weighing her down. She squirmed, but her body was still too weak to lift whatever was crushing her off. She panted for several seconds and finally wiggled her way from underneath the weight.
She giggled and ended up in a coughing fit when she saw what had been holding her down. Logan had had her in a death grip, even though he was snoring away, head back and mouth open wide as he slept in his usual adorable position.
"Oh Logie," Camille whispered. She stretched and looked at her bedside table. She was stunned when she found her digital clock to read 10:00 pm. She rubbed her temples, trying to recall where in the world an entire 24 hours had gone, but she couldn't remember anything. It was all just a haze of feeling horribly sick. She couldn't believe that her sweet, caring Logie had stayed the entire time with her. He must have been miserable.
Camille stumbled to her feet, feeling a bit dizzy with a sudden head rush, but the feeling passed. She slowly and tiredly headed to her bathroom. When she saw her reflection in the mirror, she nearly did a double take. She looked horrible. Pale gray skin, swollen eyes from crying, she was nearly dripping in sweat, and her hair looked like a rat's nest.
Not only did she feel ashamed for looking so ill, she had to stop herself from screaming in embarrassment when she realized she was only in a bathrobe, and nothing but a bathrobe. Her heart started racing, wondering if Logan had maybe seen anything underneath it. She would never be able to live it down.
"Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm naked," Camille groaned, slapping her face in her hands. She wanted to cry.
"You know, I don't really mind," a soft voice said teasingly from behind her. Camille jumped out of her skin and turned around to see Logan watching her from the doorway, a crooked smile across his stubbly dimples. Camille wanted to die. But Logan just chuckled. "You're not exactly naked Camille, calm down. I didn't see anything, anyway. Come here." Logan led Camille to the edge of the tub and sat her down.
"What is it, Logan?" Camille asked, sensing the urgency in his motions. He was very worried, she could tell.
"What are you doing up, Cam? How are you feeling?" Logan asked.
Camille shrugged. "I'm awake because I think I have been sleeping for almost 24 hours and I am drenched in my own sweat."
"But do you feel alright?" Logan asked, resting his hand on her forehead. Camille leaned into the cool, welcome touch. Logan felt like somebody had removed a giant 500 pound brick right off of his shoulders. He could tell she only had a low-grade fever now.
"I guess so," Camille said. She didn't exactly feel good to be honest.
"You guess so? What hurts, baby?" Logan asked warmly. Camille smiled at the concern in his voice and couldn't help but blush.
"My throat, my head. I'm really tired, too Logie. I feel weak," Camille admitted. She wasn't ashamed to admit her illness to her boyfriend. In fact, she wanted him to know now. He took such great care of her, it made her feel important.
"It's no wonder, you had such a rough day," Logan said, running his thumb along her jawline sweetly. "Your fever was up over 105 degrees and you had a seizure, Camille."
Camille's eyes widened with panic. "I had a seizure? Why don't I remember any of this?"
"Calm down, sometimes when a fever is really high it causes seizures. It usually only happens in toddlers but older people can get it too. Don't worry, I took care of you." Logan stroked the side of Camille's face and she tilted her head, resting it in the palm of Logan's head.
"I know you did baby," she said gratefully. "And thank you, really Logan."
Logan ducked his head and shook it shyly. "Nah, it's nothing. Come on, let's get you something to drink, baby."
"Ok but can I get on some clothes first? I feel a little exposed," Camille admitted, blushing scarlet. Logan grinned.
"Yeah, I'll be in the kitchen," he said, leaving to give his girlfriend some privacy.
A few minutes later, Camille emerged in fleece blue and white polar bear pajama pants and a white thermal shirt to find Logan cooking chicken noodle soup and hot tea. Camille hadn't even realized how hungry she was until the tantalizing scents reached her somewhat stuffed up nose.
"Smells good, Logan, or what I can smell of it anyway," Camille complimented. Logan smiled and uttered a thank you as he stirred the boiling soup. Camille took a seat at the kitchen table, feeling a bit weak and wobbly in the knees, and saw the stale, cold breakfast and flowers that Logan had put out over 12 hours earlier.
"Awe, Logan you sweet thing!" Camille gushed as Logan brought her the dinner he made her. "You made breakfast and everything."
Logan smiled and set the soup and tea in front of Camille and took away the breakfast dishes. "It's nothing," he said shyly. Camille rolled her eyes and dug into the delicious soup he had made her.
While Camille ate, Logan ran home to shower and was back in 15 minutes. Camille was sprawled out on the couch, watching television. Logan smiled at the sight of his girlfriend all curled up with her blankets, cheeks tinged pink from the touch of fever that she still had.
"You look so freaking cute," Logan couldn't help but say, sitting down so her head could rest in his lap.
"I look like the plague," Camille said, but she was smiling. Logan was so happy to see a hint of sparkle back in her eyes.
"I'm so glad you're feeling better, Camille. You really scared me today. Nothing I could do would make you better and you were so sick."
Camille frowned and sat up, folding her legs Indian style so she could face him. "Logan, you did an amazing job. I don't remember much of it, besides feeling really, really awful, but the whole time I knew you were there. That's more than anyone has ever done for me. You didn't leave me once. If you hadn't stayed, I could be like, dead right now, Logan."
"Don't say that Cammy," Logan said, dread filling his stomach at the thought. Camille saw the terror on his face and leaned forward, wrapping her thin arms around his waist. She listened to his heartbeat for a moment and breathed in his minty, clean scent.
"Thank you so much, Logan. You took care of me when I needed you most. Thank you." Camille pulled back and looked at him, eyes full of sincerity, and Logan realized how much it truly meant to Camille for him to take care of her.
"Hey Cam, can I ask you a question?" Logan asked, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her hair.
"Anything," Camille answered truthfully.
"Whenever it was the other day, why did you seem so… Opposed to me taking care of you? You acted so put out and… And shy. You know I would do anything for you, right?"
Camille nodded. "Of course I know, Logan," she said, grabbing his hands in hers. For some reason, she loved the feeling of holding hands with Logan. She needed that warm connection that it brought her.
"Then why wouldn't you let me take care of you before it was too late? Why wouldn't you tell me you didn't feel good during the date?" Logan asked.
Camille shrugged, feeling guilty. "I didn't want to ruin our first date as a couple again, Logan. I ended up ruining it anyway, but still…"
"Hey, no you did not ruin our date," Logan said, sternly but softly. "Besides, I got further with you than I have with you on any other date considering I saw you in the tub-"
"Lo-Gan!" Camille shrieked, punching Logan's arm at his playful comment. He grinned and chuckled before lowering his voice to soft and serious again.
"But really though, Cam. Something you need to tell me?"
Camille smiled sadly. "I just… I never had anyone ever take care of me before, Logan. It's weird, you know? I have always been so independent, ever since my mom died and my dad is always on business trips. I never had someone to take care of me, I always just do it myself, and hide it from others."
"Well you don't have to do that anymore with me, Camille. I am always here to care for you. I love you Camille. And I love taking care of you."
Camille's eyes lit up, glistening suddenly with unshed tears when it dawned on her what Logan just said.
"I love you too, Logan," Camille said, and they embraced each other again in a warm hug, and they stayed in each other's arms the rest of the night.
Over the next couple days, Logan spent every waking moment nursing Camille to health and caring for her. He waited on her hand and foot (Camille found it kind of ridiculous, but it was sweet and important to Logan so she let him) and they watched movies and even played a couple of board games when Camille was feeling strong enough.
When the fever had passed, the sore throat had gone, and the cough subsided, Camille was still thinking up ways to thank Logan for his hard work and dedication, even though he said over and over again that he did not want or need a "thanks".
But as she watched Logan washing the last of the "sickie dishes" as he called them, his muscles flexing as he scrubbed the plates and his back turned to her, his butt looking quite tight in his blue jeans, Camille had the perfect "thank you" gift in mind.
Camille whirled Logan around by the shoulders and grinned. He smiled nervously, having been taken by surprise.
"Hey Camille, I'm almost done so-"
"Ssh," Camille said, pressing her fingers to his lips. "I'm not sick anymore, which means I can do this." Camille tip-toed and pressed her lips against his, fireworks immediately exploding in her line of vision. Logan relaxed and kissed her sweet lips back, tasting a deliciously tart hint of pink lemonade on her perfect, pale lips.
Logan was so starstruck by the intense kiss, mapping out every inch of his girlfriend's mouth with his tongue, that he didn't even notice she was slowly walking him backwards into her bedroom until the back of his knees hit something soft, and he felt backwards against her soft bed, bouncing slightly from the force.
"How's this for a token of my gratitude?" Camille asked seductively over Logan's body.
Logan was beet red and flustered, his heart pounding as he ached to touch every inch of Camille's body. All he could do was nod, and Camille smiled, satisfied. She kicked her leg back, making her bedroom door slam shut. Logan flinched, feeling more excited by the minute. Camille leaned back over him and whispered in his ear while her hands traveled everywhere along his body.
"Thanks for taking care of me, Logan. I'll be taking care of you now."
Logan squeaked.
A/N Heehee.
Oh my gosh, whoever made it to the end of this hideously long story, thank you times a bajillion! It means so much to me that you read this! It literally took me WEEKS to write, right Happy Girl? Happy Girl knows. Did you like it Caitee? HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Oh also, for making you guys read such a long story, I decided to release a little smidgen of news. Yeah, I am working on a new multi-chap! It's an angsty, sad, Carlos whump. The title will be "Deteriorate." I'm excited! But IDK when I will release it yet.
Please, please leave me a review if you liked this and the Carlos idea, I would love to know how I did! Thanks a bajillion, love you all!
