This chapter is so freaking cute. I hope all of you like it.
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Photo #26: Kiss Me Better
Eadlyn furrows her brows together looking at the next photo, not knowing why it made it on the wall. But after all the photos she's already seen, she understands that her father will put any picture up as long as it involved his dear wife in any way.
The picture is of her mother, sitting up in her bed and it's obvious that she's sick. It's nothing like the state she's in at the moment, but at least she's awake in the picture. Her mother is blowing her nose, wrapped in blankets, and surrounded by wadded-up tissues and multiple tissue boxes (some empty, some not). This could be argued upon, but Eadlyn would pick having the common cold over a heart attack any day.
Odd enough, Eadlyn smiles.
-o-
America dabs her nose with a scrunched up tissue after blowing it hard. She exhales through her mouth as she looks over at Maxon who stands at her bedside, lowering his camera.
"Stop taking pictures of me," America says miserably.
She throws the tissue she just used at Maxon. Maxon scampers away, letting the tissue fall to the ground along with many others. America tries to giggle, but ends up coughing into her arm. Maxon rubs her back and she takes a gracious sip of water.
"I can't help it," Maxon replies. "Your nose is as red as your hair. It's aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Mine, especially."
America really wants to frown at him, but her scowl turns into a smile. She blows her nose again before looking up at Maxon with her bluest eyes.
"Will you kiss me so I get better?" America asks.
She puckers up her slightly chapped lips and stretches her neck towards her husband. Maxon folds his hands and hesitates with a cringe. He loves his wife, he really does, but he doesn't want to kiss her and get sick himself. America sits back down and laughs a little for her own amusement.
A small knock is heard on the door. Maxon walks over, opens it, and Lucy peeks her head through the door with a joyful grin on her face as she bows her head for respect towards the royal couple. She walks in with a tray of fresh hot soup, steaming tea, and cough medicine. She places the bed tray on America lap as Maxon closes the door.
"How are you feeling, my queen?" Lucy asks, picking up the nearby trash can. She picks up the wadded tissues and swipes the ones sitting on her quilt, clearing up the mess.
"I can barely breathe," America wheezes.
"Hopefully this soup will help you. Just get some rest and you should be up on your feet soon enough."
"Thank you, Lucy," America says. "Where would I be without you?"
Lucy gives a genuine smile before bowing her head again and scurrying out the door. Maxon sits on America's now-clean bedside and looks at her little set-up.
"How about I feed you your soup?" Maxon asks America.
"Awe..." America coos. "You really don't have to. I can feed myself and the longer you stay with me, the more likely you'll get whatever I have."
"Nonesense," Maxon announces. "You are my dear wife and I made my vows to love you in sickness as well as in health."
"You're the best," America whispers to him.
Maxon smiles to himself. America quickly kisses him on the cheek. Maxon shudders, making America burst out laughing. Besides, laughter is the best medicine.
This chapter may have been joyful and such, but I just thought of a really emotional one-shot I want to write for America and Maxon. Someting separate, not part of this story. If given free time and interest from any of you, I will write it.
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