Page 40 of Desperate Haste
“You’re just saying that because the sex is good,” she attempts to joke but sleep is taking her quickly and her eyes are growing heavier with every passing second.
“No, little fox, I’m saying that because I really care about you. I like you more than I’ve liked anyone else. Fuck, I like you more than I like myself. I liked you even before we started having sex,” I say honestly with a chuckle. She nuzzles her face against my hand and is half asleep already and I wonder if she hears my confession. I stand when I think she’s fallen asleep to head to the couch so she can have her bed, but before I get too far, her hand catches my wrist. I turn to find her sitting up, propped up on one elbow, and looking up at me.
“Will you sleep in here with me?” Her eyes are wide but sleepy and her voice is already raspy from exhaustion. I feel my lips pull back in the corners as I look down at her and marvel how someone can look this stunning even when they’ve been puking all day.
“For you, I’d do anything.”
* * *
An unknown numberof hours later, I’m awoken to the sounds of her regurgitating what has to be the last remaining contents of her stomach. After I stripped out of my clothes and was in nothing but my boxers, I crawled in next to her and we’d fallen asleep shortly after. I’d been happily reveling in how it felt to have her draped over me like a security blanket since she’d rolled over and wrapped an arm across my chest. Our breath fell into sync with one another and I had been having the best night of sleep I’d had in years.
Hearing her heave again, I spring from the bed and move to sit next to her and hold the trash can closer to the edge of the bed so she doesn't have to lean over so far to reach it. Still half asleep, she must not realize that her hair is hanging down into the trash and I do my best to pull it out of the line of fire without her noticing what has happened.
“I’m so sorry,” she groans into the can, shaking her head in embarrassment.
“Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for,” I try to soothe. More bile wretches from her stomach and I’m thankful it’s dark and she can’t see the faces I’m making. She takes a few deep breaths and spits before lifting her eyes to me. My heart lurches seeing just how exhausted, sick, and physically worn out she looks.
“Got anymore in there?” I ask, trying to get her to laugh even if just the smallest bit.
“I don’t think so,” she moans, trying to lay her head back down.
“Woah, hang on there, you don’t want to do that. You kind of—uhm—your hair kind of fell into the trash...” I wait for the dots to connect in her head before continuing.
Her head moves so she can look at the ball of hair I’m holding in my hand that is coated in her own vomit. “Are you telling me I have puke in my hair?”
“I’m telling you that it might not be a bad idea if we go and wash it,” I share with an empathetic smile. She groans again and almost flops back down on her side but I stop her. “Here, come on, I’ll help.”
Continuing to hold her hair in my hand so it doesn’t touch her pajamas, I help her up and we walk into her bathroom together. I guide her to the toilet and silently instruct her to sit. Once she’s sitting, I grab a hair tie I notice on the counter and carefully gather her hair on the top of her head and tie it into a messy bun. I quickly wash my hands in the sink and turn the handle in the shower so it starts to warm up. Then, I turn to her again where she’s slumped over the toilet, fighting off sleep as if her life depended on it.
“Okay, let that warm up. I’m going to get you some water and more Pedialyte which you will drink both of without argument. Got it?” She doesn’t even try to argue, instead she just gives me a pathetic thumbs up with her head still slumped over.
I hurry to the kitchen to grab her more liquids and she drinks them without a fight. Once she finishes them, I help her out of her pajamas and into the shower. Stepping in behind her, I carefully release her hair from the bun I’d tied it into and guide her head under the showerhead, soaking it with warm water. Her eyes are closed as I gently wash her hair with the various soaps that are sitting on the small shower shelf, doing my best to get her hair as clean as possible.
“Malcolm.” Her voice comes out just loud enough for me to hear over the running water. I’d already finished washing her hair but she acted as if she needed a minute to herself, so that’s what I’m giving her. I simply stand behind her, watching her and making sure she is okay, as she takes deep breaths and lets the warm water consume her.
“Yeah?”
“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”
My chin pulls back an inch in surprise, not expecting her to ask the question.
“No, I’m not,” I answer apprehensively.
“Have you slept with someone since being with me?” She turns around so her hair is under the water but doesn’t open her eyes to look at me. Her head is tilted back and her arms hang heavy by her sides. I fight to keep my eyes on her face and not her bare skin that is being soaked by the shower.
“Once, but it wasn’t the same as being with you. It was after the wedding but before Halloween. Honestly, I did it out of jealousy. I saw you leave that night at the bar with that idiot and I think I did it as some weird way of getting back at you. I couldn’t finish until I thought of you, then I came quickly.” I laugh awkwardly and feel a pang of guilt for using Lily that way. I really was an asshole.
“Me too.”
Confusion settles on my face. “You too?”
Her eyes flutter open and she meets my gaze. “Me too, I couldn’t finish until I thought of you. Jason, the idiot I went home with as you so eloquently called him. I faked an orgasm to get him to leave and then used one of my toys to get myself off and I thought of you, of our night together, as I did. I haven’t slept with anyone else since.”
“I guess I’m the only dick you need then, huh?” I tease which gets me an eye roll and a sad attempt at a laugh.
“I would hit you but I’m too tired.” She sighs as her eyes fall closed again. After taking a breath, she reaches to turn off the shower and I take that as my cue to get out. I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist before snagging a second clean one and wrapping it around her shoulders. When I do, she leans forward and presses her forehead into my chest.
“Hey, Malcolm?”
