The Hell of a Head Cold

Riene, 2016

What was that appalling noise? Christine paused mid-way down the stairs, her eyes still adjusting to the dim lighting of the underground house. It was a sound she had never heard before, sort of a roaring…? Hastily she set her bundles down on the console table and went in search of either the Sound or her husband. Perhaps it was one of his new experiments?

He raised red-rimmed eyes above the towel clutched in his hands and stared at her blearily. "Good afternoon," he rasped….and made that sound again. Christine stared at him. Was it even possible?

"Erik…are you…sick?" she asked, stunned.

"Just a head cold," he snarled from the depths of the towel. "A stupid, insidious head cold."

She had seen him shot, beaten, bloody, with broken bones, high on morphine, and nearly insane, but never…never with something as mundane, as ordinary, as a …head cold. He was Erik, immune to such things. Until now.

"Oh, my poor darling," she said sympathetically, and he glared.

"It is not a subject for amusement," he snarled. And sneezed again. It was a ferocious sound. A roaring. A honking, a bleating, horrible, terrible sneeze. For he had no nose.

The realization struck her, and Christine put a hand on the sofa back, desperately fighting not to laugh. Oh God, no nose. As if he had literally sneezed his… NO. Don't say it, don't even think it… She put up a hand to cover her twitching lips and he scowled suspiciously.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said hastily, trying hard, so hard, to keep from laughing. He was so ridiculously angry and it had been such a long day…

And he sneezed again, the sound ricocheting off the stony walls of the underground house, and Christine lost it.

He gazed at his wife sourly as she bent helplessly over the sofa back laughing, tears streaming from her eyes, trying to cover her face.

"Oh God, Erik, I'm so sorry," she gasped, wiping her eyes.

"I'm glad to amuse you," he said icily.

"It's just…" she spread her hands helplessly. "Your nose…"

Her laughter was infectious. It had been so long since he'd heard her laugh, and her gaze was so tender, so loving. He felt his own thin lips twitch in response.

And Christine, dear sweet loving wife, kissed the top of his bare scalp and went to find a stack of clean handkerchiefs.

A bit of humor...poor Erik has sinuses, but no nose, and though it's probably mean to speculate, I just couldn't resist wondering what it would be like for him to have a cold.

Posted on Tumblr as well, for Wheel-of-Fish and her sinuses.

;)