Day 26 – Alt. Prompt: Forehead Kisses

The sound of someone blowing their nose startled Moffitt awake. He turned in bed to face the door as Vanora entered the room, carrying a tissue box. Her nose and cheeks were bright red, and her eyes were badly bloodshot.

"Are you alright, darling?" Moffitt asked.

"Nothing to worry about, love." Vanora got back in bed, setting the tissue box on her nightstand.

"Is that so?" Moffitt touched her forehead. "Why, I'd say you're sick, darling. You're quite warm."

"You have work in the morning. Go back to sleep."

"No, I'll stay home and take care of you. That's my job now."

"Jack, you don't have to. It's just a cold."

"You've stayed home plenty of times to take care of me when I have a cold. It'll be alright. Come here."

"I don't think you want to snuggle right now, Jack, I feel… disgusting."

"But I love you, and you've snuggled me when I'm sick."

"Are you sure this isn't just an excuse for you to get a snuggle, love?"

Moffitt had to think about that for a second. "…Maybe."

"You just melt for a good cuddle, Jack."

"You're right. I do." Moffitt kissed Vanora's cheek. "I melt for you and only you, my darling."

"Honestly, it feels like my brain is melting right now."

"Would you like me to get a cold compress?"

"I'd like to sleep."

"This will help you sleep. It helps me."

"Alright."

Moffitt dashed off to the bathroom to soak a washcloth in cold water. While wringing out the washcloth, guilt weighed heavily on him. Did I get her sick? It had to have been me. This is my fault. He returned to the bedroom, and draped the cloth on his wife's forehead. "Here. I'm… I'm sorry about this."

"What are you apologizing for?" Vanora asked.

"Surely it was me who got you sick—"

"Jack."

"What?"

"We've been over this… how many times? You need to stop apologizing for things you're not responsible for."

"But I—"

"Please, don't worry about it, love. Everyone gets sick sometimes."

Moffitt tried to shove his all-too familiar feelings of guilt out of his mind as he got back in bed. "Are you too feverish for a cuddle?"

"Right now, yes."

Moffitt moved back to his side of the bed. He looked at the clock, seeing it was five in the morning. I don't have to go back to sleep. Moffitt was tempted to wake up Anah, but let the cobra continue sleeping. He sat up, taking a book from between the clock and the snake and opening to where he left off. I don't want to do nothing, he thought while glancing at Vanora while she tried to sleep. I know how she feels. I wouldn't want to be touched, either… I want to comfort her, though. Nervously, he reached over and started stroking Vanora's arm. When she didn't react, he kept going. "Is this annoying?" he asked.

"No," Vanora said. "It's soothing."

"Okay." Moffitt leaned down to kiss Vanora, and continued stroking her arm.

He didn't stop until she fell asleep, and ended up falling asleep as well. He awoke to find it was after seven-thirty, and the washcloth on Vanora's head was dry. Shifting, Moffitt looked at his wife's face. She seemed to still be asleep, so Moffitt moved quietly while taking the washcloth and leaving the room.

He got dressed, then made his breakfast tea as quietly as possible, and started work on a cup of elderberry tea for Vanora. As he did, he heard a chair creak softly, and turned to see Anah climbing up to the kitchen table.

"Have you noticed that Vanora is sick?" Anah asked.

"I have. Her blowing her nose a few hours ago startled me awake."

"We are out of cold medicine and cough drops," Anah said. "If you do not mind, I will go get some."

"I was just about to ask. Thanks."

When Anah left, Moffitt kept glancing in the bedroom to check on Vanora. She hadn't stirred much. The house seemed a little too quiet, so Moffitt lit the fireplace, then paced in front of it while waiting for both teas to steep. His focus was more on Vanora's tea than his own, so his tea was left on the counter while bringing Vanora's into the bedroom. He set the cup on Vanora's nightstand, then gently ran his fingers through her short, brown hair.

She's sweating. Her fever broke—at least for now. Moffitt kissed Vanora's forehead, and noticed her eyelids fluttering. He wasn't sure if she was already waking up, or if his kiss had roused her.

"Jack," she said.

"Hello. I brought tea."

"I can smell it. Elderberry?"

"Yes. Perfect for colds. How are you feeling?"

"A bit cold, actually."

"Cold? What would you like me to do?"

"Get me my robe, please."

"I'll do you one better." Moffitt went into the closet, and took out both his robe and Vanora's. "You can have both!"

"I don't want to contaminate yours, love."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll wash it." Moffitt helped Vanora sit up to put the robes on her. "There. That should help keep you warm."

"Thanks, Jack."

"You're most welcome, darling." Moffitt kissed her forehead again, then handed her the cup of tea.

"You don't have to be my butler, love."

"I owe you this after all the times you've taken care of me."

"No, I was doing my job."

"And I'm doing my job as well. Is there anything else you'd like?"

Vanora looked hesitant to ask, but eventually said, "Could you make porridge?"

"Of course I can. Plain porridge or something special?"

"Honey and brown sugar, please."

"Alright." Another forehead kiss. "Porridge with honey and brown sugar, coming right up."

Moffitt went into the kitchen to start the porridge. The ambient sound of the fire snapping in the hearth was occasionally disrupted by Vanora coughing or sneezing in the bedroom. Part of him still felt guilty, but vowed to do his best to help Vanora feel better. That's all that matters.

He was so focused on taking care of her that he neglected his own breakfast. The sweet and cozy scent of the porridge made his stomach growl, but he refused to take any for himself until Vanora was served. Good thing Anah's not here—she'd be quite upset with me.

When the porridge was finished and given a little time to cool, Moffitt brought a small bowl of it into the bedroom. Vanora still looked cold, even with two robes and a cup of tea in hand. "Here. There's plenty more in the kitchen if you want it."

"Thank you." Vanora gently took the bowl.

"What else can I get you? Perhaps a hot water bottle? You still seem very cold."

"I'll let you know if I want anything. Did you have breakfast?"

"I—no. Not yet."

"Go eat something."

"What about—"

"Jack, I will feel a lot better with you not neglecting yourself. Go have breakfast."

"Alright. If that's what you want." Moffitt turned to leave the room, then paused in the doorway to look over his shoulder. "Do you not want the water bottle, then?"

"Jack, for heaven's sake, go eat. Worry about me later."

"Oh, fine."

Moffitt's desire to make sure his wife had everything she needed hindered him from enjoying his breakfast. He had a small helping of the porridge, and sat at the table with that and his tea, occasionally glancing over at the open bedroom door. His tea had gotten cold, but he didn't bother brewing a new cup. He finished it, though it wasn't exactly satisfactory.

Nothing was satisfactory with his nerves being what they were. He managed to eat breakfast and clean up the dishes, all while anticipating Vanora to call him. Even though she didn't give him an answer about the hot water bottle, Moffitt got it ready for her anyway.

He went into the bedroom and set the hot water bottle down before going up to Vanora, who was staring blankly ahead while hugging herself in her robes. "Are you alright, darling?" Moffitt asked.

"Very cold," she rasped.

"I brought the hot water bottle. Would you like anything else? More tea?"

Vanora shook her head. "You. I just want… you."

"Just me?"

"Yes. Just you."

"Alright, then. Give me one second." Moffitt opened one of his dresser drawers, and pulled out a dark-gray knit sweater.

"I'm surprised you weren't already wearing that. I love that sweater on you," Vanora said.

"I know. That's why I'm changing into it. Well, first—" Moffitt pulled off the shirt he was already wearing, "a bit of a show for you."

Vanora blushed and smiled at him as he put his sweater on. "Sometimes I do wonder what I did to deserve you. All I did was show up to that presentation at Cambridge and thought you were handsome."

"Aw. I remember you telling me that you were scared I wouldn't accept your invitation to dinner a few nights later."

"I wasn't expecting you to. When you showed up, I had no idea what to do, nor was I expecting it to lead us here."

"I was afraid it wouldn't go anywhere, and by the end of that year, we were saying our vows, and I was helping move your things from your flat to here. And then—" Moffitt lay down next to Vanora in bed, "we were boarding a flight to beautiful, sunny Malta. Just the two of us."

"That was the first time I ever traveled to someplace warm," Vanora said. "I'd like to go back someday."

"Maybe for an anniversary? I certainly wouldn't mind going back as well." Moffitt pulled Vanora close, hugging and nuzzling her. "I love you. I know I say it all the time, but… am I showing it? Do you feel that I love you? I can feel that you love me."

"I do feel that you love me, but you do stress a little too much over whether or not you're doing a good job."

"You and Anah both tell me that I worry too much in general."

"Yes. Yes, you do, and you need to stop. It's not good for you."

"I'll try. At least now, it's hard to worry when you're right here, safe at home."

Their cuddle eventually turned into a nap. Moffitt eventually awoke to find Vanora had turned to face him and had her head nestled against his chest. He could hear dishes and utensils clattering, which told him Anah had come home and was either cooking or cleaning. He was a bit too comfortable to move, nor did he want to disturb Vanora. He shifted a little, adjusting his hug, and gave Vanora another kiss on her forehead before resting his head back on the pillow.