Chapter 2
"And how does that make you feel?"
"Like you've asked that four times already within this half hour session and it's time for me to go." Weiss stands up and gives a polite nod and makes a swift exit.
Once she is free of the stagnant air of the office building, Weiss takes a deep breath and walks back to her car.
The sigh she lets out as she sits down in the driver's seat is somehow heavy and full of relief at the same time.
Over the past week and a half she had gone to see two of the three therapists she had booked appointments with.
The first one had enough crystals lining shelves and incense burning that she almost choked to death on the smoke during their short meeting. Not that Weiss had anything against it, that works for some people. But she didn't really see suffocation as a means to improving her mental well-being.
And the second one, well let's just say she would've rather gone back for round two in the smoke room.
The only reason she hasn't completely given up was because Blake was being so supportive.
She knew that Blake was doing everything possible to take any kind of pressure at home off of her. Even doing extra little things like helping Weiss with her laundry, or packing her lunch on days where she needed to stay at the office during lunch to work.
"I just have to make it through one more of these appointments, then I can take a break from it."
—
Blake had sent her a text earlier in the day to let her know that she hasn't made any plans or effort for dinner, because she wasn't feeling well and had a lot of work to get done today.
Initially, it made Weiss feel guilty, like Blake felt she had to cook Weiss dinner every night. But then she reasoned that it was more so because Blake was always already at home, and preferred to eat food that had flavor, or was safely edible. Which was something that was never guaranteed if Weiss were in charge of meal preparation.
Deciding to play it safe, Weiss stopped by one of her favorite soup spots on the way home. If Blake were feeling well enough to eat, soup was always a good bet.
Carefully and quietly, she makes her way through the house, dropping the food off on the kitchen counter before making her way towards the office.
She finds Blake, curled up under a fuzzy blanket in her reading chair, well past asleep. A cold mug of tea is sitting on the table beside her and a half edited manuscript, complete with sticky notes sticking out the side, rests in her lap.
Even in her sleep, Weiss can tell by the way Blake is sitting in the chair, and the exhausted look on her face that Blake doesn't feel well.
Brushing a few loose strands of hair off her forehead, Weiss gently rests the back of her hand against Blake's forehead and then her cheek, to see if she feels feverish.
She feels a little warm, but nothing to cause Weiss too much concern.
Slowly, she pulls the manuscript out of her hand and sets it back on Blake's desk. She pulls the blanket up to properly cover her before taking a step back.
It was probably best to let her sleep, given the circumstances.
Weiss retreats back to the living room and starts to tidy up and sits down to watch some tv before eating dinner.
A little more than an hour later, Blake appears in the kitchen. Eyes heavy from sleep and shoulders slouched more so than usual.
"Is this soup yours, or may I have some?" Her voice is a little scratchy.
"Here," Weiss jumps up from her spot on the couch, "go sit, I'll heat it up for you and bring it to you."
Blake tries to refuse but Weiss shoos her out of the kitchen.
She knows if she had had the energy, Blake would've refused more staunchly. But her illness was more apparent now that she was awake and attempting to move about.
Blake mumbles a thank you as Weiss sets down a tray with a bowl of hot soup and fresh tea for her.
"Can I get you anything else? Or do you need anything?"
"No, this is perfect." The heat from the mug of tea seeps into Blake's hands as she clutches onto it.
"What do you want to watch?" Weiss asks as she grabs the remote and settles into her usual place on the couch.
"Is the show with the veterinarian on? With the farm animals?"
"Let me look." She scrolls through the channel guide until she finds the channel that usually has all the animal shows on it, Blake's favorite.
"I love this show." Even with the scratchiness from her sore throat, Blake's enthusiasm makes Weiss smile.
"I know. We can watch it as long as you want." Secretly, Weiss also loved the show but would she ever give Blake the satisfaction of knowing that? Nope.
—
The next morning, Weiss wakes up before her alarm goes off, to the sound of Blake coughing.
At first, she thinks it may just be her clearing her throat. But a few minutes later, it happens again, and she hears Blake very quiet but noticeably gasp for air to catch her breath at the end.
She sends a quick email to the office from her phone and rolls out of bed, making her way across the small foyer area at the end of the hallway towards the other bedroom.
Blake had left the door open, as she normally did, but when Weiss knocks on the door before peeking her head inside the room, she hears Blake groan in discomfort as she swings her legs over the side of the bed.
"Hey, you okay?" Blake sniffles and turns towards the door to see Weiss.
"I feel like death, but oh well."
When she tries to stand up, Weiss takes a few steps into the room.
"Where do you think you are trying to wander off to?"
"I have to take a shower and get ready for work."
"A shower, maybe. But neither of us are working today." Weiss stands up straight and puts her foot down firmly. "We are taking a sick day."
"We?"
"Yes, we. While you are in the shower I'll make you some tea and breakfast. You can read manuscripts here or on the couch, take your pick."
Blake releases a heavy sigh that feels like it seizes up in her chest, debating whether to try and argue. Which quickly turns into making a decision about where she wants to read all day long.
"The couch is fine. And you don't need to wait on me hand and foot. I have a cold. It's not the end of the world."
As Blake walks past her to head to the bathroom, Weiss blocks her path and repeats the same motion she had done the night before, resting the back of her hand on Blake's forehead.
"You still have a fever. I'll get you some medicine for that."
"Still? How do you know I had one yesterday?"
"Just take a hot shower and I will see you downstairs in a little while."
Weiss showers in record time and manages to make some toast and tea for Blake, and coffee for herself by the time Blake trudges down the stairs in a fresh set of pajamas.
Throughout the day, they spend time working from the couch. Occasionally swapping places, so that Blake is more comfortable.
More times than not, when Weiss looks up from her laptop, she finds Blake asleep, head leaning to one side with her manuscript splayed across her lap.
And she only wakes her to make sure she eats or drinks something. Or takes some medicine, which puts her right back to sleep.
When she finishes her own work for the day, she closes the lid of her laptop and looks toward the other end of the couch.
Blake was sound asleep, once again. Her mouth hanging open slightly. Even while she slept, her expression was soft. Weiss had always found it in such contrast to her own.
Her breathing wasn't as strained as it had been earlier.
Weiss had figured out the best combinations of pillows to prop Blake up with to keep her from continuously coughing. And she had finally been able to get some decent rest, under Weiss' watchful eye, of course.
There was no harm in letting Blake continue to sleep. Weiss carefully gets up and slides slowly towards the other end of the couch and begins collecting Blake's work from her lap and stacks it on the coffee table neatly.
As she tugs the blanket back up to make sure it's tucked in and keeping Blake warm, she feels a hand begin to loosely grip at the sleeve of her shirt, before it finds the blanket and pulls lightly. Weiss freezes.
Not sure if it's because she was afraid of waking Blake, or if the touch itself had startled her.
Why should it? She's known Blake for years. Since they were much younger, in school. She was sure there had been many instances during that time that Blake had touched her arm.
Shaking it off, she settles back on her end of the couch and begins reading the book she had started last week but hadn't found time to continue.
It looked a little more worn than it had been the last time she picked it up. The spine seemed less stiff. The tell tale sigh that Blake must've picked it up and read through it in an afternoon.
Blake was always reading something. Most of the time, it wasn't even for work. It was something else about Blake the Weiss had always admired.
Being so well read had its advantages. Blake was fiercely smart and could hold her own in nearly any conversation she was thrown into.
When they first met, Weiss admittedly felt threatened by it. She was used to being the best, the smartest. But after a while, she discovered that Blake had far more qualities to like than not to.
After who knows how long, of thinking about anything and everything but the book she was trying to read, Weiss passes out for the night. Mentally exhausted from overthinking.
She has no idea how long she had been asleep for but she was rustled awake by the blanket covering her being pulled and twisted and something that sounds like Blake struggling.
"Blake?" It's pitch blank dark in the living room. The only light is whatever the moon is able to shine through the blinds in the window.
Weiss' question is enough to garner Blake's attention as she flails to escape the blankets she's tangled up in, in an unfamiliar place, but it comes a moment too late. Blake pulls with all her might and rolls to the side to try and get out of whatever she's stuck in. Which happens to be the blanket that her and Weiss were sharing across the couch.
The force pulls Weiss along with it, the two of them falling gracelessly off the couch and slamming into the floor below.
"Weiss?" Blake's voice is muffled a little, like she may be face down on the floor or the blanket is covering her mouth. "Where are we?"
"The living room, Blake. We are literally in our living room. My arm is wrapped up in the blanket and I can't get up so I need you to figure it out or at least turn the light on. If you can."
When Blake kicks her leg out to try and roll over and get off the ground, she hits Weiss in the knee.
"Ouch!"
"I'm so sorry. I can't see. I'm trying." Her voice is still raspy and scratchy from coughing all day, and Weiss immediately regrets sounding so harsh.
"It's okay." She feels Blake finally wiggle her way out of the blanket and turn back toward her, crawling her direction while patting over the places on the blanket.
"Hold on I think I got it." She tugs hard to free the edge from under Weiss, but loses her balance and falls forward.
Thank god the lights are off, because Weiss is sure if they had been on, she would be redder than any cherry she's ever seen.
"What is that? Is that your arm?"
"Definitely not my arm, but close."
"Oh. Uh." Blake immediately lifts her hand and continues pulling away at the blanket until Weiss is able to free the upper half of her body completely. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I-"
"It's fine."
"I didn't mean to-"
"Blake."
"I didn't want you to think it was like that one time when we were super drunk and I-"
"Blake!"
"Yeah?"
"It's fine. It's still dark. And I just want to get off the floor and go to sleep in my own bed."
"Oh. Duh. Right. Hand?"
"What?" Weiss now sounds slightly agitated, which worsens Blake's guilt even further.
"May I grab your hand so I can help you stand up?"
"Oh." She fumbles for Blake's hand in the dark but finds it quickly and immediately feels Blake pull backwards and lift her from her spot, wedged between the coffee table and the couch.
As soon as she's standing on her own feet again, Weiss leans over and turns on the small light on the end table beside her.
"Cool. I can see you now." Blake gives her a somewhat apologetic look as she starts to fold the blanket back up before hanging it back in its place.
Weiss straightens up her shirt and runs her hand through her hair before turning back towards Blake.
"How are you feeling? Any better? Do you want me to make you something to eat?"
"I actually feel a lot better now than I did earlier. My throat is still scratchy. But my head isn't hurting and my ears aren't burning anymore."
"Well that's good." Weiss mumbles as she slips her laptop back into her work bag and straightens up a few things on her way to the kitchen.
She hears the pitter patter of Blake's feet following behind her on the hardwood floor.
"I'm going to make a tea, would you like one? Or I can make you something else? Hot chocolate?"
"Do we have any apple cider left?" She watches as Blake stretches up on her tip toes to look into the back of the cabinet.
"Uh yup. Looks like it."
She sits at the table and waits patiently, mind drifting off, absent-mindedly watching Blake as she seems to dance around the kitchen to make her tea.
The sound of a mug sliding across the wooden table top stirs Weiss from her thoughts.
"Are you feeling okay?" Blake asks with concern lacing her voice.
"Yeah I'm fine, why?"
"Your ears are like, beet red. I hope I didn't get you sick."
"I think I just got hot from being stuck under the blanket is all." She looks away, sipping her cider carefully. "I feel fine."
They sit in silence for a few minutes as they drink their drinks. It's a comfortable silence. Both tired and not really wanting to be the one to break the quiet.
"Thank you for taking care of me."
Weiss looks up to find Blake's expression looking somewhat embarrassed.
"It's literally the least I could do. You sounded miserable this morning. I couldn't just leave you here by yourself." She stands up and grabs both of their cups and cleans them and sets them on the drying rack beside the sink. "I also changed your sheets so you have clean, uninfected sheets to sleep on."
"You are too good to me." Blake teases as she pushes in her chair and begins to wander slowly behind Weiss as they go upstairs.
"Trust me, I know."
"And you take compliments so well too."
"The sarcasm is noted, Belladonna." Weiss props herself up against the door frame of her bedroom door and sees Blake mirror her behavior in her own doorway.
"Good. I'd hate for it to be wasted on you, Schnee."
Weiss can't help but smile as Blake gives her the signature smirk that only Blake could pull off.
"Goodnight. I will see you in the morning."
"Don't die in your sleep, I would be sad."
"Truly a wonder you're still single."
"Yeah, yeah. What was it that you said? By choice?" Blake can't help but start to laugh at her own joke, if it could be called such.
"Whatever, Blake."
"Sleep tight, Weiss."
She walks into her closet and closes the door behind herself and rests her back against it softly.
At this point, was it really by choice? Weiss was beginning to wonder if it truly was.