Estella is absolutely spent.
Throughout the day, the bothersome aching she woke up with in her bones had grown stronger, her head feeling foggy and she felt a difficulty to breathe. It is only three in the afternoon, but she cannot go on with farm labour any longer, and so she goes back into the house.
Locking the door on her way in, the young farmer lies on the couch groaning, stretching to try and bring relief to the aches and pain. The show she was watching blared as she closed her eyes.
Every inch of her body moved was another ache that earned a muffled complaint against the pillow.
The sun moved through the sky, but Estella does not know how long it has been since she got in, nor whether or not she actually slept. She certainly feels no better than earlier. She had not moved from the couch for what seemed hours, her water bottle was empty, the analgesic for her aches had worn off, her crackers were all gone, and she badly needed to use the bathroom.
Convincing herself to fully stand up and walk to the bathroom was a very difficult enterprise, motivated by the tightness of her bladder alone, as every move shot pain through a new appendage. Her hand moved to her forehead, pressing against it in a desperate attempt to some relief.
Her eyes shut. Yoba is calling for her, she concludes.
The farmer finally rolled off the couch to her feet. Her head became light and dizzy and everything in front of her seemed to move slowly, up and down, dancing in a ghostly pace.
She slowly made her way down the hall to the bathroom. She finishes her business, feeling slightly relieved, with one disturbance having been taken care of.
Without bothering with washing her hands, the young woman waddled to the kitchen, hoping to rummage the fridge after something that her stomach would appreciate.
No such luck, though, as it is utterly devoid of much of anything. There was water, though, but the bottle was screwed too tight. Her weak hands fidgeted with the lid, unable to twist it off.
She groaned, giving up and grabbing a can of soda out of the fridge. It was hardly nutritional, but it is the only thing she can manage to open and it is better than nothing. On her way back to the living room, she also picked up another package of cream crackers from the drawer, to ease the stomach-ache.
Finally, after what seemed a marathon, Estella finally reached the couch once again. The nest of blankets and pillows never looked so inviting as it did right then. She slowly but surely cradled herself into the blankets, the one on top of her pillows creating a warm feeling on her skin.
She stretched her legs, setting one last blanket in front of her, to stave off the chill that she felt on her body. She reached to turn the tv off, annoyed by the loud sound. She closed her eyes, listening to the humidifier in the corner. It provided a lulling white noise.
Her eyelids slowly went from the dark reddish to a full black.
Estella woke up to a loud banging. A faint yelling. She blinked her eyes, hoping to focus them.
"Estella!" The voice shouts in between the banging of a door.
As she figures that this was, indeed, her name, she slowly turned herself over the couch and onto her feet, with pain shooting through different spots. She groaned as she began to walk to the front door.
The farm owner opened the door to see a very dishevelled Alex. His hand was up, in preparation to bang on the wood once again. His hair was messy and snarled to one side, he wore one of his exercise shirts and jean pants, but no letter jacket. He must have forgot, she realizes.
In turn, the jock also evaluated her looks, and his frantic eyes turning conceded at what he was seeing. She shot him a weak smile as he walked into the house with no further words. The eye bags under her eye are deeper than ever, and they were swollen red, much more than they should for being fruit of just her little nap. She raises her weak hand up to it and rubs.
"Are you okay?" Alex asked, watching her slowly lower herself back onto the couch. "You disappeared, and when I came by to check on you, you were thrown on there. I was so worried! I was this close from breaking your window to enter."
She chuckled weakly at the thought of the huge gridball player trying to enter her house through the small living room window.
"I'm sorry, Alex. I'm not feeling so good, and I slept through the noise." Estella responded.
He sat down next to her on the couch and pulled her into his embrace. The soothing presence encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder and allowing herself to relax.
"Have you eaten?" He said looking down at her.
She shook her head and points at the open package on the coffee table. "Only some crackers. My fridge is a little barren."
He frowned and stood back up, grabbing her hand and leading her into the kitchen. He sat her down onto a chair and taking over the space.
Alex began by grabbing a pan and igniting the stove. He put some butter and then cracked a couple eggs. He sprinkled salt and pepper over on top and flipping it carefully so the yolk would not break. He slid the eggs onto a plate and set it in front of her, along with a cup of tea.
Estella sat there, statically staring at them, not wanting to move a muscle. Eggs do not seem to agree with her stomach right now.
"Come on, eat it real quick and I'll go run a bath for you." He slid the fork and knife set closer to her hand.
"Fine, I guess." She grumbled, giving in.
As she ate, the woman began to hear the water running upstairs, and felt unease at the prospect of climbing up for a bath. She ate slowly, one bite at a time, only finishing after Alex was back into the kitchen to pick her up.
Pick her up, he did, carrying her bridal style up to the master bathroom and helping her off her work clothes and settling her back down, sitting up on the toilet.
"Did you put magnesium sulphate?" Estella mumbled, wondering about the distinctive smell on the bathroom.
The brunet man nodded wordlessly in response as she slowly raised her arms for him to remove her shirt. He removed her bra and underwear and helped her step into the tub.
She lowered herself in, finally feeling relief throughout her body. The smell of lavender oil filled her nostrils and she sunk down so that her chin was touching the water.
Alex began to press a soft and damp wash cloth to her face, wiping away the sickly grime that has accumulated over the day. He wiped her neck and then rinsed the washcloth. He folded it and tied it on her forehead, just beneath her hairline. He, then, poured a cup of water onto her hair and began rubbing shampoo into her scalp.
Estella moaned at the feeling. He could be surprisingly tender, applying just enough pressure on her head, as some sort of massage. She briefly reminds herself that his mother has died of cancer and, if she has undergone chemotherapy beforehand, he may have learnt how to wash hair, as not to tug the fragile strands.
After a few minutes of it, he finally rinsed and ran conditioner through the entire length, letting it rest on her bare shoulders.
She laid quietly, body submerged, for a while as the man held her hand. He rubbed his thumb over it, also in silence, not wanting to disturb the peace that has befallen the ambient.
"Come on, Estella. The water is growing cold." Alex says, motioning for her to stand up.
"What's the problem? Am I going to catch the flu?" She wonders, sarcastic.
He grabs a clean towel from the cupboard and helps her up, wrapping the fluffy fabric around her shoulders and picking her up in his arms once again, now leading her back to her bedroom. He sat her on the bed, laying out a nightshirt for her.
"Put this on, I'm going to get some stuff for you." The brunet informs her and disappears through the door.
Estella finishes drying herself and sets the towel on the floor, slipping inside the soft and cool embrace of the cotton shirt. Her body soon began to ache again, as the effect of the bath salt slowly fades, but it still is not so bad.
She crawled into the bed, and under the covers, and there she laid once Alex came back. In his hands, he carried her water bottle, now open, and some medicine. She smiled as he set everything in her bedside table.
He handed her the pills and the water, which she took gladly, and laid her head back. He, then, crawled into the bed next to her and pulling the covers under them both, placing his arm under her waist.
She stretched her legs out, letting out a yawn. Alex pulls her further into his embrace, laying his head in the crook of her neck.
Estella dozed off to sleep as he traced shapes on her arm.