Hey y'all basically this is just something I wrote at 3 in the morning when I couldn't sleep :) Enjoy!
Constance strode into the staff room after a long day. Glad to see that she was alone she lost her perfect posture as she walked passed her little desk and slumped in to one of the comfy armchairs. This was unusual for her, but to be honest she felt terrible. She had a sharp pain behind her eyes and her head was pounding. Her last class of the day with Mildred Hubble and the second years did nothing to better her condition, she closed her eyes and massaged her throbbing temples as she rested her head on the back of the chair. Frankly, she didn't care who saw her she wasn't the sort of person to wallow in self pity during a moment of self indulgance. She could just imagine what everyone would say. Amilia would say that a moment of relaxation would do her good, Davina would probably start singing a calming, Mongolian lullaby, thus destroying any moment of relaxation shae was having and Imogen. Imogen would just stare, amazed at what she was seeing. Come to think about it Imogen stared at her alot when she thought Constance couldn't see, but of course she could. The question still stood though... why was Imogen staring in the first place?
"Constance?" A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She snapped her head up and quickly regained her rigid posture; amove that she regretted as she turned to face Miss Drill who was standing, bemused by the door.
"Constance, are you alright?"
"Perfectly." Constance replied promptly.
This was it, Imogen knew that she wasn't going to get an honest answer from the deputy headmistress, but she couldn't take this. She had just seen Constance Hardbroom of all people leaning back in an armchair with her head in her hands. Something must be wrong with her.
"Constance, you are not alright! You were sitting with your head in your hands. I've seen you over the past few days; rubbing your eyes and massaging your temples when you think no one's looking. You're ill and you just won't admit it!" Constance was just sitting still, Imogen's words were having a huge effect on her though she fought hard not to show it. Sensing the older woman's struggle, Imogen calmed down, but was worried when she saw Constance grip her head and her stomach. Wrapping her arm around Constance, Imogen whispered in to her hair.
"Please Constance, you don't have to be let me take care of you." Too tired to argue, Constance just nodded. Helping her to her feet Imogen went to lead Constance to the door. However, a second later she found herself in Constance's room.
The transportation had exaughsted Constance and she gripped the end of her bed for support. After seeing Constance grab her bed for support, Imogen sprung in to action. She was going to help Constance to sit on her straight-backed wooden chair, but deciding that it wasn't at all comfortable she helped her sit on her bed that Constance now held a hand to her head the P.E teacher knelt beside her,speaking to Constance softly.
"Constance, you really should lie down." Imogen didn't know weather to laugh or cry when Constance kicked off her boots and obediently lay down on the bed.
"You know." Constance sighed,sitting up after a minute of trying to shift her position to accomodate her bun. " I'm not that comfortable."
"May I?" asked Imogen as she gestured to Constance's bun and waited for her nod of approval, before releasing the witch's hair from its prison. Constance felt herself relax more and more as Imogen let her hair run freely down her back. The throbbing in her head seemed to subside and she felt utterly and completly relaxed.
Imogen felt Constance lean into her. Slightly worried , she looked down to see if anything was wrong and what she saw brought a smle to her face. Constance was fast asleep.
She looks so relaxed Imogen thought to herself. As she gently lay the witch back against the pillow she heard Constance mumble something.
"Imogen?"
"Yes, Constance?"
"Stay with me."
Imogen was about to ask Constance what she meant, but when she looked down at the woman who was now lying on the bed her breathing was slow and even. She was fast up and tucking the covers around her, Imogen positioned herself on the chair beside Constance's bed. She gazed down at the now sleeping woman and took her hand.
Stroking the back of the witch's hand with her thumb; Imogen pondered her words while preparing herself for a long night.
"Stay with me." The words echoed in her head. They were the words that she longed to here from Constance since the day she met her. Granted; she was ill and half asleep when she said it, but she'd said it and that was what gave Imogen a warm feeling inside.
Constance was savouring the time she had with Imogen; the woman's gentle touches on the back of her hand. She wished she could enjoy them more... What was she thinking? She must've been more out of it than she'd thought. She would never think like that if she wasn't ill. She tried to reassure herself.'It must be the fever. It was only because of the fever.'
Unaware of the mental battle going on inside Constance's head, Imogen continued to mull over Constance's words in her head. After a short while she started to dout that Constance would've said anyhting to her if she wasn't so ill. She would never have Constance Hardbroom. A solitary tear ran down her cheek as she came to (in her mind) the only realistic conclusion.' It must've been the fever. It was only because of the fever.'
Review? Love it? Hate it ? Just tell me! *hint, hint :)*