My eyes open up to see rain pouring down the glass windows. I'm pleasantly surprised to find out that I'm actually capable of sitting up on my own without any sort of discomfort. I grab the arm of the couch and hoist myself up into a sitting position without jostling Christian around too much. His body is still smashed between mine and the back of the couch. His face is scrunched up against my shoulder and his eyes are sealed tightly shut. His mouth is parted slightly and a light snore streams out.
"Christian." I whisper softly. The digital clock next to the TV reads just after eight in the morning. I say his name once more and gently stroke his cheek with my fingertips. His face twists up even more, but this time it resembles pain.
"Christian, are you alright?" I run my fingers through his tousled hair and wait for a response. He groans and turns to press his face further into my chest. Well, this is not the Christian I know. "What's wrong?" I start to become worried when he wraps his arms tighter around my waist and crush me against his. My God is he burning up. Heat practically radiates off of his skin. I press my palm against his forehead and find that he does indeed have a fever.
"Oh, Christian…" I sigh. "I think you're sick." I hear him groan deep into my skin and hold me tighter.
"Ana," His voice sounds scratchy and filled with sleep. "I feel like complete shit."
I lean down and press my lips against his forehead. Yep. Defiantly a fever. I take the corner of the blanket and flip it off as I get up off the couch. Christian protests and goes to grab me, but gives up and lets his arms drop.
"Where do you think you're goi-" He doesn't get to finish his sentence before a series of coughs take over. The force of the coughs make him bow his back off the couch and clutch at his chest. I lean down and help sit him up before he chokes or hurts himself.
"Okay. I think it's time for me to start taking care of you." I lean him back against the couch and wrap the blanket around his body. Once he's all wrapped up, I make my way into the kitchen and find some of my tea that I love. I boil a pot of water on the stove and pour the tea into a mug. I go grab some cough drops out of the hall closet and make my way back to my sick man. He's still laying back against the couch with the blanket draped around him in tight circles. I've never seen him look so young before. He looks like a giant child that needs to be well taken care of.
"Here you go." I take one of his hands and place the handle of the mug in his grip. I tilt it toward his mouth so he's able to take a sip without spilling it. When he's done drinking, I pull the cup back and place it on the table next to the couch. "How bad do you feel?" I ask him and take a seat on the couch next to him.
His eyes are closed and his head is leaning to the side so it almost reached his shoulders. A light shade of pink is dusted against his cheeks and spreads down his throat. Even with the blush he still looks ghostly pale. I take his hand in mine and give it a little tug in hopes of getting him to move.
He groans and rolls his head to the other side.
"Christian, why don't we get you to bed?" I ask softly. I have a feeling that loud volume is something he does not need right now.
"Ana, I'm fine." I have to lean in in order to hear him. He has the nerve to say that he's fine when he can barely hold his own head up?
"I don't want to hear it, Christian. Let's go. Bed." I tug some more on his hand and help him up to his feet. He sways slightly, but manages to hold his ground. I place my other hand on his lower back and start walking toward the bedroom. Once we reach the bed, I leave Christian sitting on his side while I run into the bathroom to grab a cold rag. I walk back and find Christian sprawled out on the bed with his head on the pillow, one arm laying across the other side and the other hanging off of the edge. His feet have also found themselves a place over the edge of the bed.
"Oh, Christian…" I set the rag down and go to move him back into a more comfortable position. I lift his feet back onto the sheets as well as his arm. Once he's all straightened out, I take a spare blanket from the foot of the bed and drape it over his large frame. I can't tell if he's already fast asleep or just too weak to do anything else but breathe softly with his eyes closed. I place the rag on his forehead and gently dab it against his neck trying to cool his fever down. He moans slightly and tilts his head into the rag.
"Feel good?" I ask and continue with the dabbing.
"You have no idea." He sighs into the pillow. I chuckle and pull the sleet up closer towards his chin.
"You need to rest. In bed all day for you, Mr. Grey." I say.
"Will you stay with me?" His words catch me off guard. I know he's not feeling very well, but his words just sound so sad and so faint. "I've never had somebody take care of me when I was sick before." He continues and stops when a cough takes over.
I almost feel like crying. In fact I think I feel eyes mist up a little bit. Christian has always had issues with people taking care of him. He likes to have control in all things and the fact that his mother was neglectful doesn't really help much.
"Oh, Christian," I take a deep breath and sit next to him on the bed. I rub my hand across his bare back in soothing circles and bend down so my face is inches away from his. "I will always be here to take care of you." I press my lips against his shoulder and then on his forehead. "Let me go grab you some medicine."
I start to move away from the bed, but a sweaty, hot hand comes out to grab my arm.
"No, stay here." He mumbles. "I just want to sleep." His voice trails off near the end.
I stand still. I should really go grab him something to help, but he just looks so miserable. He needs to sleep it off and I'm not going to be the one to move him from his current position.
"Okay," I say and walk around to the other side of the bed. I climb in next to him and put my arms around his shoulders. He rolls onto his other side and faces me. His head find its way onto my chest and one of his heavy arms moves across my stomach.
My God, he is hot.
I lean over and grab the cold rag from the bed and start to dab his skin once more. I start from his forehead and move down to the back of his neck.
"Mmmm...Ana." He mummers into my skin. I feel his breath skim across my chest and his arms pulls me tighter against his body. I hear his breath even out indicating that he's on his way to sleep.
I run my fingers through his hair and rub my free hand up and down his arm trying to soothe him in anyway. I press my nose into his copper locks and inhale deeply.
"I love you, Christian. Try and get some sleep. I'll be right here." I say into his hair.
I hear him mumble something more into the dark room, but I think sleep has finally taken over. He relaxes against me and continues to breathe evenly. I stay up as long as possible just listening to the pouring rain outside before sleep finally takes over and causes my heavy eyelids to close.