"A new variation of the influenza virus is currently spreading across Los Angeles. Citizens should not be worried if they are taking proper precautions and visiting a doctor for a vaccination. Those sick should contact their doctor for the proper treatme-", television switched off, nothing too interesting. Just the standard precautions we're all too familiar with.
As I stand, my hand reaches upward to smooth my stubborn hair, only to have it spring back into place as soon as my hand returns to my side. The flu never worried me too much. I'm mostly prone to colds once or twice a year. While everyone was always going insane, I went about my day as usual, tolerating the smell of hand sanitizer and excessive soap that always hung in the air and if I had as much as breathed in someones direction, they would be off to the nearest sink, scrubbing away at raw skin. Considering the fact that I don't come in contact with very many people, I never had much to worry about.
I enter the kitchen and begin the process of pouring a glass of juice. I stand, one hand on the counter, the other grasping the cup. I tip the glass and the fluid passes my lips. I'm greeted by the sweet aroma of fruit and the identical taste. When I've swallowed, the light taste of sugar and fruit still lingers.
I hear the light tap tap of feet on the wood floor getting steadily louder. When the taps reached their max, they stopped abruptly. My head turns and I begin to make out a thin figure. After a few seconds of adjusting to the dim light in the hall where the figure stands, I can make out its long, light brown hair, a white nightgown reaching the ankle, and slippers. The hall in which she stands is very short, only consisting of a few meters worth of distance. On the right side is a bathroom door and on the left, is a door to a bedroom.
"Whats wrong?" I ask, setting the juice on my counter. "I thought you went to sleep." I walk over to her and stop a few feet in front of her. She's exaggerating a sad face.
"I'm sick." Marzia looks down.
"Aww, you're sick?" I make like I'm going to hug her and she does the same, but I pull away at the last second. "Well, I don't care!", I joke and grin.
"Hey!" She yells in an upset tone of voice, but I see a smirk play across her face as she tries to hide it.
"Aw, I'm sorry." I speak a high voice, mimicking a child and I do hug her this time. She puts her head in my chest.
"Ah, yay!" Marzia says gleefully, like she does. No matter what happens, Marzia's bubbly personality could never hide itself for long.
She pulls away and stands on her toes, trying to kiss me.
"I don't want your contamination, woman!" I yell pulling back.
"Hey! No fair!" She tries her hardest to pout, but is overcome with giggle. Soon her laughing has turned into a fit of coughs. Marzia doubles over and I reach over to rub her back, but before I can, she stands straight again, her eyes watering.
"What are your symptoms anyway?" I reach over to feel her forehead, but when my hand makes contact with her skin, I jerk it away. "How were you smiling? Jesus! Marzia, go to bed I'm going to get medicine."
"I feel a little nauseous too."
"Don't worry, our flight's first thing tomorrow." I walk over to my bag on the table that I haven't bothered to take anything out of except a change of clothes every day. We had this hotel room for only a week and this is our last day. I stick my had into the bag and rummage through junk I stuffed in here in my rush to pack. My fist closes around a small bottle and I hold it up. "What about ib-
ibo- ibe- uh..", I say, squinting at the label.
"Ibuprofen will be fine, Felix." Said Marzia, giggling at my foolishness.
"Here-uh-", I looked around the room, until my eyes find the counter, "Here." I offer her the bottle and my juice.
Her small fingers wrap around them, but I don't give them up yet. We both hold them, together, almost touching and gaze into each other's eyes only for a moment. Marzia wrinkles her adorable nose at me and I lean in to kiss it, but as I'm about to, she tilts her head up and catches me on the lips.
"Ha!" She cries in triumph.
"Ahh! I've been contaminated! I need the hospital!" My voice is high again. I let go of the cup and bottle to dramatically run in circles. When I stop and look at Marzia, she's grinning at me.
"Good night." She says.
"Good night." She turns and walks back with the familiar tap tap tap down the short hall to the bedroom.
I love her so much.