Finally, I am back, with a new chapter. I apologize profusely for the wait, and I am sure the agonizing months of wondering if and when I will update. Unfortunately school work this year got crazy and took all of my time. I was a hermit for close to two months trying to get it all done. On the downside, no time for writing. On the plus side, I got straight As. So I am not upset about my hiatus, and if I upset any of you I am extremely sorry. But real life comes before writing (at least until school is over). Now for the good news, it is summer which means I have unlimited writing time in between work, reading, the gym, sleeping, watching TV show finales and the like.
As far as I have it planned, there are two more chapters plus an epilogue after this. More good news: I plan on updating every weekend with a new chapter until I am done. But don't hold me to it. It is a plan and plans change.
This chapter has been 90% written, mocking me in a word document for the past two months. I am so glad to finally get it out to you! I tried something new with it in my writing style and I hope you like it.
I do not use a beta and all errors/grammar problems/tense issues are mine. I try to catch them all but I am not perfect.
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, I am borrowing them. If they were, I'd be out of a job for not giving new episodes for the past two months. Anyways, who needs Organic Chem to write Chuck stories?
Sending out a special thank you to everyone who read this, or Chuck vs. the Pregnancy, during my hiatus. Seeing reviews, and favourites, and alerts in my inbox as I was studying was a really big confidence boost, and it made me want to finish school that much quicker to get back to writing. So THANK YOU TO EVERYONE! I love you all!
Heart vs. Brain - Chapter 4
It wasn't this bad yesterday, it really wasn't. Sarah was fine, other than the on-again-off-again cold she has been nursing ever since she found a part time job a few weeks ago. But it seems something about today caused her body to give up and let the sickness take over, leaving Sarah a helpless heap on the couch, too tired to change the channel on the TV from whatever movie is loudly blaring.
Sarah takes a deep breathe, thinking back on the last few weeks. Chuck had finally stopped being so overbearing, finally giving her some space, though Sarah can tell how much it is breaking his heart that she isn't in love with him yet. And Sarah is a little mad about how long it is taking too. But he is giving her time and letting her find a job, which, when the only things you can put on a resume are "hot dog girl" and "fro-yo server" and the myriad of other cover jobs Sarah has had over the years, it really limits one's ability to find a job. So when Sarah had finally found something that she not only would enjoy, but is also good at, it really made Sarah believe that she could live this new life until Chuck can find her a place at Carmichael Industries (or until she feels comfortable working there). Closing her eyes with the last bit of strength she can find before her mind begins to go all fuzzy, Sarah thinks back on that day…
"Chuck!" Sarah had called, as the door slammed behind her and she raced into the small apartment. "Chuck!"
There was a small clatter then Chuck came running out from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging precariously from his mouth. "What is it? Is something wrong?" His face looked panicked, and Sarah had realized that she must've messed up excited and anxious in her calls.
"No, no, everything is fine. I got a job!" She exclaimed excitedly, watching with eager anticipation as Chuck's face lit up.
"One minute" Chuck said, and then he ran out of the room and back to the bathroom. Before Sarah had the chance to get confused, Chuck returned – mouth devoid of toothpaste – and lifted Sarah up into a spinning twirl. As he lowered her down, her breath caught upon being so close to a freshly-washed Chuck. Their eyes met, and Sarah gave a little smile. She leaned in and pecked Chuck quickly on the lips, then pulled herself away before he got any ideas. Then, on second thought, Sarah leaned back down and let her mouth linger over Chuck's, allowed her excitement to show through via her wandering tongue. When she finally pulled back, Chuck's eyes were closed and a smile was lingering on his face.
"Wow… um… you are really excited…"
Sarah stood still, nodding with a small smile on her face.
Chuck followed as Sarah wandered further into the house. "So where is your new job?" he asked.
"Guess." Sarah answered simply.
"Weinerlicious."
"No!" Sarah's arm playfully smacked Chucks forehead, a hand coming up to rub the spot.
"Now that is going to bruise!"
"Stop being such a baby, I barely touched you." Sarah replied. "Now keep guessing, and nothing stupid."
"Nothing stupid…" Chuck mused over the question for a moment before coming out with another guess.
"Large Mart?"
Sarah shook her head. "Stupid."
"A secret government agency?"
Another no.
"Verbanski Corp?"
Negative. "You have one guess left Chuck." Sarah smiled. There was no way Chuck could figure it out.
"Um… Yogurt Hut in the mall?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, that was a terrible last guess. Too bad you'll never know now…"
"Sarah, come on! Just tell me!"
Sarah looked over at the puppy dog eyes Chuck was giving her, and it only took her a few moments before she caved. Gosh that man was sneaking into her heart good.
"I'm teaching karate and Tae Kwon Do at a local Dojo." Sarah said simply, and then she turned to the kitchen to get some coffee.
"Sarah that's awesome!" Chuck laughed, though Sarah wasn't all too sure why he was laughing. It was a well-paying job and she only had to teach a few classes per day. Still loads of free time. "But wait… teaching? Are you qualified to work with kids?"
Sarah turned to face Chuck. "Are you teasing me or is this a legitimate question?"
"Both." Chuck answered.
"We did take a course at the academy on consulting with minors. And I do have certification in seven different fighting styles. How hard can a group of seven year olds be to handle?"
Chuck had laughed at that, obviously thinking it is much harder than Sarah was anticipating. He graciously accepted the cup of coffee she offered.
"Besides, it will be great practice for having our own."
The next thing she knew, Sarah was laughing on the floor, coffee strewn out of Chuck's mouth and nose across the floor.
Sarah's mind is breaking, unable to differentiate between the noise from the television and her own thoughts. She wants more medicine, but can't recall the last time she had taken it. Maybe it was two hours ago, maybe five. Maybe no more than five minutes. She can barely even remember where she had strewn the medicine after her last dose.
She struggles to remember if the visions flashing through her mind are real memories or fake memories or hidden memories she has never accessed or made up by her hazy sickness. She hopes the one she had just replayed is real, because she thinks she remembers kissing Chuck for at least five minutes in celebration of her new job. Or maybe that was five minutes of kissing from before her memories were lost. Or maybe…
At least the real, legitimate, actual memories of her relationship with Chuck are starting to pile up. If Sarah had more strength she would delve into it more. But right now, all she can do is curl deeper under the covers and try to stop the world from spinning in front of her. If only Chuck hadn't gone to a game night with Morgan after work. If only he knew how sick Sarah was when she woke up, that she hadn't gone in to teach her 6PM black belt and 7:30 adult classes. If only Sarah had bothered to call Chuck when she had the strength to move. If only Sarah could recall anything other than the flashes of maybe memories going through her mind.
Cold. Extreme heat, yet also complete and utter frozenness. The clash of two forces fighting.
Her entire body feels on fire. She should be freezing, sitting in the vat of ice, but she isn't. The ice is welcomed. It feels amazing against her heated skin. She could sink into it and melt away. But… no. Something isn't right.
Her hand gets lifted by something warm, the heat radiating down her arm and dropping off by the coolness of the ice. She shouldn't be here. It isn't right. She has somewhere to be, somewhere important. Somewhere involving something white, twist ties, her CATs…
She can vaguely hear the sound of beeping and people talking, but all of her focus is on the warm weight lifting her hand. That weight is the most important thing in the room, the only thing she should be focusing on.
"Chuck?" She says, her eyes opening slightly.
"Hey, baby. Hi. I'm right here." She can feel his hand slowly stroking her hair. But things don't seem right.
"You look worried." It comes out gravelly.
"No, you know, just wedding stuff."
What is he worried about? They practiced. They had their run through, and now they can do it for real. "Don't freak out. We're ready for..." Her mind blanks out, her eyes shutting. She wants to get that last word out, remind Chuck they're ready for anything, but it's as if her mind and her mouth have cut each other off.
"Baby, I'm going to fix this." She hears, her ears straining to find purchase. Her ears finally focus on something, but Chuck doesn't sound happy at all. Shouldn't he be? They're getting married tomorrow. "We're going to be together. Forever." He says. "I love you."
Sarah wants to smile. She wants to nod and agree, but her body isn't cooperating. She wants to reach up and place a kiss on his lips, remind him of how much she loves him, tell him everything is going to be okay, but she can't. She feels all of her strength fade as Chuck stands up, talking to the others in the room in an authoritative voice and leaving.
Why does he always leave her?
About two weeks into teaching lessons almost nightly, or at least that's what Sarah thinks is the time frame, she returned home from work with a pounding headache, sore muscles and a stuffed up nose. She completely ignored everything on her way home, quickly waving goodbye to her students and dry swallowing some aspirin as she drove. And upon entering the living room, she collapsed onto the couch and let out a loud groan, completely oblivious to the placement of her head on the current couch's occupant.
"You okay?" Chuck had asked, the hint of a smile in his voice as he paused his video game and moved a hand down to stroke Sarah's hair. Her eyes closed and her body relaxed more into the calming strokes, her headache starting to dissipate with just the calm touch Chuck was placing on her.
The only noise Sarah was able to make in response was a small moan, equal parts pleasure and pain. She closed her eyes and snuggled more into her husband's lap.
"Maybe you should slow down a bit." Chuck said, his hands never stopping their ministrations. "Two to three classes a night, plus your morning runs, plus trying to live a normal life seems to have caught up to you."
"Nothing has caught up to me." Sarah said, her nasal voice betraying her words. "I'm just… I have a headache."
"Sounds like you have a case of kindergarten teacher syndrome to me." Chuck laughed as his body leaned over to place a blanket over Sarah.
"Kindergarten what?" Sarah asked. She wondered if this was another one of Morgan's weird theories – he seemed to have quite a few of them.
"I'll make you some soup, it'll make you feel better." Chuck slowly maneuvered himself out from under Sarah's head, replacing his lap with a pillow.
"I'd rather have some wine." Sarah muttered.
"Well, soup is better for your cold." Chuck replied. Sarah's response was a grunt, and another question about this theory of Chuck's.
"You better not be mocking me! I teach kids self-defense, not their ABCs. Plus I teach lots of adults too." Sarah said, her voice as loud as it could go.
"I know, I know. And I'm not mocking you!" Chuck replied. "Kindergarten teacher syndrome – it's a proven fact! When someone starts a new job working with lots of kids," Chuck stopped his explanation for a moment to turn on the stove and grab the pot, "for example, a kindergarten teacher, they pretty much have a perpetual cold for the first year or so."
"And why is that?" Sarah asked. "Oh, and can you make chicken noodle?"
Chuck let out a laugh. "Of course I can." He returned the can of plain chicken soup back into the cupboard before grabbing the chicken noodle. "And the reason, my dear Sarah, is because kids are carrying all sorts of germs that us adults aren't used to. So, throw a perfectly healthy adult human with a bunch of bite-sized ones, and voila. Instant adult cold."
"Yeah, yeah." Sarah replied. "I'll be over it in a week. No bug is taking Sarah Walker down for any longer than that."
"Whatever you say." Chuck called back from the kitchen with a laugh.
"I'll be over it in a week." Sarah thought, her eyes rolling behind closed lids. Yeah right. That was three weeks ago, as far as Sarah can remember, and the cold has not only lasted for three weeks, it has become progressively worse as it went on. Since that night, though, Sarah has been trying to hide her illness from Chuck.
She vaguely remembers not wanting him to baby her or take care of her, but now all she can wish for is Chuck to get home soon and nurse her back to health. Or maybe help her stop shivering or eat something or keep her eyes open longer than five minutes. She can't even remember what was going through her mind when she didn't call him first thing when she woke up that morning. She tries to preoccupy herself with another memory – another REAL memory of Chuck. But eventually her mind's incoherency can't stop her body from finally entering a restless and dreamless sleep.
When Chuck arrives home, it is nearing ten o'clock. His first instinct is to run to Sarah's room, to make sure she is okay. As much as Sarah wants to believe she has been covering it up, Chuck knows how she is sick and had been keeping tabs on her. He even left some soup in the fridge for her to have at lunch, and some extra aspirin on the table. What he didn't expect, however, was to come home and find Sarah lying on the couch, the covers strewn off of her very pale and shivering frame and dark circles etched beneath her eyes.
"Oh Sarah," Chuck lets out, dropping his bag and moving over to sit in front of his wife. He knew game night with Morgan was a bad idea. Chuck reaches out a tentative hand to her forehead, pulling it back upon feeling the radiating heat erupting from her body. There is an almost untouched water bottle beside the couch, an open bottle of aspirin next to it. From what he can see, the kitchen looks almost exactly the same as it was when he left early that morning for work. Top that all off with Sarah still in the pajamas she has been wearing all week, and Chuck knows that the next few hours will be spent doing his only real job; taking care of his wife.
Though they've been living with an almost unwritten set out boundaries ever since Sarah moved back in, Chuck scraps all of them in favor of helping Sarah get better. He leans over and places a soft kiss on her forehead, growing angry at himself for not realizing Sarah is this sick. He has been watching her for weeks, how could he not tell she is running a fever?
Without thinking, Chuck scoops up Sarah's shivering body and walks her down the hallway. Her body stops shaking as he holds her close, though if he could somehow get Sarah into more clothing than a tank top and shorts she might be warmer. Reaching the bedroom, he awkwardly maneuvers until he can pull back the covers with one hand, and then quickly slides Sarah in. Rushing back into the living room, Chuck grabs the water bottle and aspirin and places them on the side-table next to Sarah. Her body is shivering again underneath the covers, and Chuck looks around the room for anything else he can use as a blanket. Another quick run to the living room has Chuck returning with the extra blankets and carefully covering Sarah up to her neck with warm fleece.
"Sarah, why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" Chuck whispers, his hand stroking Sarah's hair like it did the first time she had come home sick. His head turns aimlessly around the room, his mind trying to think of anything else that will help bring Sarah's fever down. All he could think of is what Ellie used to do when Chuck was younger – placing a cold, wet towel on his forehead.
He gives Sarah one more lingering stroke down her cheek and heads to the bathroom for a towel. When he returns, a towel in one hand and a bucket of ice water in the other, Chuck can't help but feel that Sarah is so small when she is sick. Sure, right now it is just a high fever and not a poison attacking her DNA, but seeing Sarah unable to move and so frail-looking…
Chuck shakes his head – he cannot think like this. He almost lost Sarah too many times to think that something small like a fever will take her away. So Chuck takes the towel and wets it with the ice water, wringing out the extra moisture before placing it on Sarah's forehead. It only takes a minute or two before Sarah's heated skin warms the towel back up. Chuck again dips it into the cold water and reapplies the compress to Sarah's head.
Chuck doesn't know how long he sits by their bed – by Sarah's bed (Chuck keeps forgetting that he is sleeping in Morgan's old room right now) – and continues to replace the towel and stroke Sarah's hair. Eventually it gets to the point where she stops shivering and it takes a few long minutes for the compress to warm up, and Chuck figures there is really nothing else he can do until she wakes up. He removes his slippers and leaves them by the bed and takes out her robe, in case Sarah wakes up and goes wandering in the middle of the night. He longingly looks at the empty side of the bed, but upon consideration that Sarah is already feeling weak and vulnerable and might think he is taking advantage of her, just replaces the compress one last time, places a kiss to Sarah's cheek, then wanders off to Morgan's old room for bed.
Before drifting off, he sends a quick text to Morgan explaining the predicament and that he is taking a few days off from work. He makes sure to leave the door open, though, just in case he needs to get up quickly. If he could, Chuck would be sleeping next to Sarah, keeping her warm and protected while her body fights to get better. But instead, all he does is dream of a day when he can finally sleep with his wife rightfully back in her place – falling asleep in his arms.
Maybe an hour after she drifted off, maybe six - Sarah really can't tell – her body wakes up with a jolt and a long bout of shivering. She lets out a small cough and something damp falls off of her face. Some sort of towel, maybe? Sarah can't tell. All she knows is she is tired, and cold, and shivering, and Chuck isn't there with her telling her everything is going to be okay.
Her body moves slowly, the shivers intensifying as the multitude of covers drop off her thin frame. She looks around the room for a moment confused as to why her husband isn't there as well. Maybe he doesn't want to get sick? She grabs the pair of slippers sitting near the bed – they are blue and too big for her feet and probably Chuck's. There is something sitting on a chair nearby, but she ignores it. She mindlessly moves to a dresser, pulling out an oversized Stanford sweater that is so long it falls down to the top of her thighs and covers all the other clothing she is wearing. One more sweep of the room confirms that Chuck is nowhere to be found, and Sarah's feet begin shuffling her into the hallway.
"Chuck?" Sarah calls, but her voice is groggy and thick from lack of use and it comes out more as a moaning whisper. Her feet drag slowly and she has to stop ever few steps to control her shaking. Finally, after what seems like an eternity and no time at all to her fever-clouded mind, Sarah reaches the open door to the spare bedroom. She moves to take another step, but stops as a violent cough rakes her body. She stops, her breathing ragged as she hears the sound of someone moving inside the bedroom.
"Sarah?" Chuck asks, and Sarah feels her body relax instantly as his warm arms wrap around her body. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"C… co… cold…" Sarah manages to get out between shivers, her body instinctively leaning in to Chuck's heat. She feels him stroke a hand down her cheek and place his lips to her forehead. He says something about her burning up – but how can she be warm when she feels so cold?
"Sarah, you should go back to bed." Sarah doesn't listen, and just leans in further searching for more warmth. Chuck must've realized she won't move on her own, because he slowly turns her body and uses his own to maneuver them back into the main bedroom. This walk seems shorter than the one down the hall, but maybe Chuck's musky scent and warmth and soothing touch and calming voice are all clouding Sarah's mind somehow. Eventually she feels something small and cold on her lips, and is slowly coaxed by the calming voice to drink some water and swallow whatever it was she was swallowing.
It takes a moment for Sarah to realize that she is lying in bed again, that there is something cold on her head and that her shivers are returning. She feels a kiss on her cheek, and some more blankets being piled on top of her, and then nothing. Sarah opens her eyes a sliver to see Chuck moving to leave the bedroom.
"Nooo…" Sarah says, her voice weak. Chuck stops and turns to look at Sarah.
"You need to sleep, Sarah." Chuck replies. Sarah doesn't really understand what he is saying, just that Chuck is leaving and she really, really wants him to stay.
"Cold." She says again, her shivering body showing how true the word is.
"I gave you all the blankets." Chuck says, his body moving closer to the bed.
"Cold." Sarah repeats, her eyes resting on Chuck and pleading him.
"I don't know what you want." Chuck says, reaching down to stroke his hand over Sarah's cheek.
Her body leans in to the touch, and she stops shivering. Finally, Chuck thinks he realizes what Sarah wants. And while a part of him is elated, another part is terrified of what Sarah will do when she wakes up from her fever.
"Okay, but only for a few hours." Chuck says, carefully pulling the blankets back and bringing his body up close to Sarah's. He wraps an arm around her and Sarah's body turns to rest next to his. It's like two pieces of a puzzle finally connecting – they fit together so well. It only takes a second for Sarah's body to stop shivering and for her to relax, a hand snaking its way over Chuck's and grasping him tightly.
Chuck smiles into Sarah's hair, placing a kiss behind her ear. "Feel better, Sarah." He whispers quietly, reveling in the moment that her self-conscious has finally decided to rely on him again. "I love you."
When Sarah wakes up in the morning, the first thing that registers is the coherency of her thoughts. She isn't bouncing back and forth anymore, jumping between daydreams and memories and almost memories. She repeats the mantra in her head that has been a daily thing ever since moving back in with Chuck: "My name is Sarah Walker. I am married to Chuck Bartowski. He loves me. I think I might love him. I am no longer a spy. I still can't get that damn song out of my head." She takes a deep breath in, reveling in hearing her thoughts again.
The second thing she notices is a warm body behind her, arms wrapped snugly around her body and holding her in tight. She takes a second deep breath in, this time focusing on the smell. It's manly, and the scent consumes her body and brings her right back to that kiss on the beach. Her body relaxes again upon realizing that it isn't some strange man behind her and is in fact just her Chuck. Two seconds later, it tenses up again, realizing the position the two of them are in and the fairly low state of dress of Sarah's legs.
Sarah's back is firmly pressed against Chuck's front, pressing into the curves and folds of his body. She can feel every part of him, from the stubble on his cheek rubbing against her neck to the beat of his heart, strong and steady, to the hand resting protectively over Sarah's stomach, to the hairs on his leg tickling her own bare ones, to the curve of his-
Sarah cuts her own mind off, because as much as her heart wants to go there and practically live there for the rest of eternity, her mind is definitely not ready to take that step. Well… almost not ready, she thinks as she lingers half a second longer in that position.
Eventually she scooches forward on the bed, keeping Chuck securely wrapped around her yet moving their lower halves a few inches apart.
It feels… nice. Safe. Not claustrophobic, like being wrapped by Chuck's arms had only a few short weeks ago. Maybe it's her heart finally making her brain adjust. Maybe time really does heal all wounds. Maybe she just needs to smile and relax and let nature take its course, because clearly there is something between them that cannot be stopped.
Sarah closes her eyes, hoping to sleep off her sickness a little more, but her body jolts still as her stomach grumbles loudly. She feels Chuck moving behind her just as she starts to register how truly hungry she is. Living off of aspirin and water for a day, and tossing up anything that manages to get swallowed, can really bring the hunger pangs on. Her stomach grumbles again and she feels Chuck's lips move to her neck, placing a soft kiss there.
"Good morning." He says quietly. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." Sarah replies, but her voice is thick from sleep and lack of use, and her throat is scratchy and dry. Chuck leans over Sarah and grabs a water bottle off the side table, silently passing it to Sarah along with some more medication. She gratefully accepts the offer, greedily gulping the water down then finally swallowing the pill as well.
"Better," she repeats, her voice now much stronger though still showing signs of illness. She turns around in the bed so now she is face to face with Chuck, and before she can do anything he is placing a kiss on her forehead.
"What was that for? Do you want to get sick?" Sarah asks.
"I think your fever broke." Chuck replies. Instantly Sarah is embarrassed. Of course Chuck was making sure she was okay and not just randomly kissing her. "And besides, we slept in the same bed. And pretty cozily, might I add. Plus we live together. I think whatever you had I'll have anyways."
Sarah nods. "Well, care to explain to me why we are in the same bed, and quite cozily, as you added?"
"You…" Chuck starts. He looks at Sarah, staring into her eyes, hoping to find some recognition. "You don't remember last night at all?"
Sarah looks right back at Chuck. "What happened last night? We didn't…"
"Oh, no!" Chuck's eyes widen with surprise. "No! We didn't! Nothing like – No, Sarah I wouldn't! Now when you're- You really don't remember?"
She shakes her head, the anger starting to build. Why won't he just tell her already? It must not've been that bad.
"Hey, no, don't get angry. Nothing happened. You were just sick and delirious and you came looking for me, so I put you back into bed. I was going to leave you here, like a good married-but-not-sleeping-in-the-same-bed-husband should do, but you insisted. You said you were-"
"Cold." Sarah finishes, a little recognition coming back in between cloudy memories.
"Cold." Chuck repeats.
The two sit in silence for a minute, and then Chuck realizes that he is still in bed with a not-yet-ready and half-naked Sarah and he quickly slides out to stand next to the bed. Sarah doesn't know why, but she feels a little sad and a little empty as the covers lose the heat from Chuck's body.
"So, I'll just… let you…" Chuck begins awkwardly, unsure how to act. Thankfully, Sarah's stomach decides to make its presence once again known, and lets out a loud grumble.
"I'll go make you some breakfast." Chuck finishes, checking the clock and seeing the time. "Or… lunch, that is."
He turns to leave, but stops once he hits the doorframe. "Are omelets okay? Or would you prefer waffles?"
Sarah thinks for a moment, but not about lunch. When she doesn't answer, Chuck takes a tentative step into the bedroom.
"Is everything okay, Sarah? Is making omelets too much? Should I have offered something easier to eat? Oh gosh, I'm smothering you again, aren't I?" Chuck rambles.
"Chuck, stop." Sarah says, quickly hushing her husband. She slowly sits up in bed, her muscles stiff and sore. "I…" She takes a deep breath. Remember, Sarah, her heart and mind say together. You are ready for this.
"I want you to sleep here from now on." Her heart lets out a small jump of joy and her mind breathes a sigh of relief. Something about waking up in Chuck's arms today, about letting him take care of her and hold her, it brought out some long hidden need to be protected. And not just by spy moves and by keeping a safe emotional distance. It brought out a need to be protected by trusting someone completely. And how else can a spy give up their own protection than by letting someone in during the vulnerable state of sleep?
Chuck's face had lit up, and he is doing his best not to run and jump on Sarah and kiss her as hard as he can. He knows the first thing he is going to do once he leaves the room is to call Ellie – calling Ellie about these small improvements in Sarah is what makes them real to Chuck. His mind is racing and his heart is overjoyed, but again he wonders if making a big deal out of it will freak Sarah out too much. So he continues smiling, and asks Sarah a simple question: "Omelets or waffles?"
Sarah's face breaks out into a smile because, for reasons unbeknownst to her, Chuck just understands. He understands that they can be excited about this, but that it is a big step and Chuck needs to still keep his distance, at least until tonight. He understands that, even with all this progress and the fact that she thinks she really might love him (though she hasn't told him that yet), she is still guarded and protected. Or maybe he just knows that she is starving.
And maybe Sarah is still sick, and maybe Chuck will get sick too, and maybe their situation still isn't the greatest, but it is improving. And that is really all Sarah can ask for.
So Sarah leans back in bed, takes a deep breath, and gives Chuck another dazzling smile. "Waffles."
.
Thank you for reading!
I am finishing this story for me, whether people are reading it or not. However I would love your opinion on this chapter and if you would like to see me finishing. I hope the answer is a resounding Yes.
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