Author: SingViolence PM
She was angelic, when she couldn't curse the world.Rated: Fiction K - English - Hurt/Comfort - Words: 323 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 04-14-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2796845
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The fever burned through her body, she felt on fire. The sweat poured from her skin, running down her body, soaking the once dry sheets. She shook violently underneath the covers, whimpering softly. She didn't want to disturb the household with her complaints, there wasn't anything left to do but wait. The nausea in her stomach lurched upward as the fever drained her of her consciousness. Her eyes slid closed, and a tear escaped. She grimaced, such a baby she cursed herself.
As she slipped into a coveted slumber a visitor crept into her room. The timid girl, who peered into the room, had taken to nursing her back to health, despite the strain of profanities thrown in her direction. The girl moved closer to the bed, so that she could rinse the sweat from the sleeping figure's skin. The water cooled the burning skin a degree or two, only to rise up again. Her eyes shifted remorsefully over the sickened girl, such an angelic sight she was, when she wasn't able to curse about everything.
Light poured in through the window, the girl glanced up, staring into the outdoors. She pondered if the sleeping one missed the outdoors, as she certainly would after a week confined to bed with a raging fever. She folded a cool rag to replace the warmer one already on the girl's forehead. Poor miserable thing, she felt for her. She leaned into her, kissing her cheek, brushing the hair off of her face. The hair stuck to the skin, result of the sweat, no doubt. There wasn't much to be done for that however. The girl frowned, her work was done, and there wasn't a single reason to stay, besides breathing in the virus. She straightened up, brushing her skirt back into place.
"Sleep well," She spoke gently to the resting, before turning and departing once more from the room.