And so I say again, I own nothing. Read on! Read on!

Five minutes later, I was buried under a fluffy mountain of blankets that could not stop the fever-induced chills running through my frail body.

Christine bathed my throbbing temples with a freshly moistened compress. She continued to sing to me, changing songs now and then and pausing often to press a gentle kiss to my sweating forehead.

I attempted to focus my dizzy brain on the angelic music, yet concentrating was difficult. Most of my thoughts were occupied by how terribly ill I felt. The aches that I had been experiencing for several days were now compounded with the awful sensation of being sick to my stomach. I could not remember the last time I had a stomachache, but this one was terrible. The horrid churning sensation just below my navel was rising up toward my throat, but I would rather have died than vomited on Christine. I moaned involuntarily, stopping Christine's song.

"What is it, Erik? Are you alright?"

"Yes…I-I'm fine."

"Please, angel, tell me what's wrong."

I had to admit to her how miserable I felt in case I actually became ill. Feeling my face go red with shame, I whispered, "I…I feel…slightly…nauseous."

"Well, should I get you something to be sick into?"

"No…maybe."

"Alright. You wait here and take some deep breaths. I'll be back in a moment."

She left after swiftly kissing my cheek. I lay unmoving until she returned. Hen she did, Christine resumed the gentle stroking of my aching head, telling me to alert her should I feel the need to vomit.

In ten minutes' time, I could no longer fight the urge pressing so strongly against me. Taking a shuddering breath, I groaned the name of the person in the world dearest to me; "Christine!"

"Alright, angel, I'm here. Are you going to be ill?" I nodded, tears of humiliation pooling in my yellow eyes. "Alright."

She rolled me onto my side and placed my head on the very edge of the mattress. With one hand, Christine held an empty bowl under my mouth; the other she placed on my trembling shoulder. "Alright, dear. Go ahead. I'm here for you. Easy now."

My stomach lurched. I coughed deeply and began retching. Christine thumped me gently on the back and whispered words of encouragement and comfort until I had composed myself.

Once I had managed to stop vomiting, Christine lifted my chin and pressed a glass of water to my lips. "Swish this around your mouth and spit into the bowl. It'll get the taste out."

I followed her instructions, trying not to look at the regurgitated broth as I spat. Christine then took a handkerchief and wiped bits of sick out of the monstrous hole that served as my nose.

After that, she simply held me. She pulled me against her warm, soft body and rocked me slowly side to side. I let my head slump against her shoulder. God, I loved her so!

"You poor thing," Christine murmured, kissing me tenderly. "Is there anything I can do for you, Erik?"

"Don't let go," I breathed. "Please."

"Of course I won't," she answered. "I'm here to hold you forever and ever. I promise I will never leave you again."

Still holding me against her, she pressed a cold compress against my sweating face. "Do you feel any better?"

"My stomach does…a bit. But my…head is…pounding. And I…am so…so tired."

"Then go to sleep. Here, put your head in my lap." She adjusted my position and pulled the blankets up to my chin.

"Thank you, angel…I love you." My throat was too sore to allow any more speech.

"Hush now, Erik. You must sleep. Would you like me to sing to you?"

I nodded, smiling weakly at her.

And so she sang, petting my face tenderly as she did. Within a matter of minutes, I had drifted into the deepest, most peaceful sleep I had had in years.

Hope you enjoyed!

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