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veronicaphoenix · 8 months

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Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst, sickness, best friends’ comfort, alcohol intake, implied depression. | Word count: 3.5k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Over the past two hours, my fever had spiked, signaling that I was getting worse.

Although I had enjoyed a good night's sleep, as soon as I woke up, an unexpected wave of fatigue enveloped me. This sensation was different from the occasional bouts of coughing that would sporadically afflict me.

By mid-morning, it became evident that I had caught some viral infection.

As the day unfolded, my throat began to ache, and by lunchtime, my condition had deteriorated to the point where I couldn't muster the energy to prepare a meal. With Jolly off exploring San Francisco with friends from Sweden and Jesse away on tour with ERRA, I was alone, left to mend for myself.

Struggling through a meager breakfast, I made it to noon feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.

I lay on the couch with the back of my right hand on my forehead. I was sure I had a fever, but I didn't have a thermometer to confirm it. If Lia had been home, we probably would have had a box with one and some medicines, as had been the case when we lived together during our early twenties. Since she had moved into her apartment and Jolly, Jesse, and I had moved into a slightly smaller house, there were aspects of my life that had been somewhat neglected, and having medication at home just in case was one of them.

Lia was the one always ready and prepared to deal with any inconvenience and unexpected event. That’s why some times, besides managing the merch, she also helped with the logistic aspects of the band. She helped in the coordination of transportation, accommodations, and venue bookings, ensuring everything was in order.

During times like these, I longed to call her for comfort and assistance. I knew she would be able to alleviate my discomfort. However, those days seemed to be a relic of the past. Lia was now committed to a relationship with Mitch, and she had started spending more and more time in his house, which signaled that this was more serious than I had hoped.

I hesitated to reach out to her, afraid of intruding in whatever she was doing or, worse, being ignored. I would feel like shit knowing that she was with another man to whom she was giving more priority than me. I knew that she was in her own right and these feelings of mine were unnecesary, but I couldn’t help them. I knew she was at Mitch’s place. They had been together for over a year, but I was still not used to sharing her. Well, not that exactly. I wasn’t used to letting her go. I hated having to restrain myself every time I wanted her company.

For all those reason, I eventually sent her a text message. I anxiously waited for the blue ticks that indicated she had received and read my words to appear in the screen.

"I think I caught something. I feel like crap, and I don't even have a thermometer. Can you come by and grab something from the pharmacy on the way?"

She replied not later than fifteen minutes.

“What’s wrong?”

“No idea. A virus, I guess. I feel powerless, my head feels heavy, and I think I have a fever.”

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll be on my way.”

With the relief of knowing she would be here in less than half hour, I closed my eyes, reclining myself on the sofa.

I drifted into a sort of dreamy trance, a state that blurred the lines between reality and the dream world. The urban symphony of cars passing by, a few people chatting, and an occasional dog barking felt like a distant backdrop. Although the house maintained an ideal temperature, my body stubbornly swung between feeling freezing cold one moment and uncomfortably hot the next.

By the time Lia showed up, I had already put on and taken off my sweatshirt more times than I could count. I greeted her at the door, and there she stood with a bag full of medicine and food. Despite the weariness also apparent in her eyes and the dark circles beneath them, to me Lia was a a ray of sunshine breaking through days of darkness.

As she entered, I couldn't help but smile. Lia dropped her backpack and stood on her tiptoes to peck my cheek. The gesture was met with a fit of coughing that made my shoulders shake. Lia shot a worried glance over her shoulder as she placed the supplies on the kitchen island. I closed the door.

"You look paler than usual," she observed, concern etched on her face. Before taking off her jacket, she returned to me, gently touching my cheek with one hand and then placing the back of her hand against my forehead. "And you're hot."

“Thanks,” I replied, smiling widely.

She frowned and then slapped my chest. “Idiot.”

"No, you're right,” I conceded. “I'm a mess."

Despite how groggy I felt, I managed to sketch a smile that she tried to copy despite the concern that framed her face.

"How long have you been like this?" she asked.

"Since this morning" I replied. "I was fine last night. I don't know what the hell I caught."

"Are you coughing up flowers this time?"

"Nope. Just feeling weak as shit, head is heavy, and throat is itchy."

"Okay. Well, sit down. I'll see what we can do."

I made my way to the couch and plopped down with a huff. I leaned back, resting my head on the headrest. Lia followed me with her eyes as she took off her jacket and started looking for something in the paper bag she had brought with her.

"I stopped by the pharmacy before I came here. I wasn't sure what you’d need, but something will do. The rest you can keep in the bathroom or wherever you keep your meds."

I looked at her with a guilty expression, and she was quick to transcribe it.

"You don't have anything, do you?"

I shook my head.

"I think Jolly has some ibuprofen blisters in his room, but given how messy he is, before you find it I'll probably start feeling better."

"Fantastic," she mused, rolling her eyes. From the bag hse pulled out several small boxes of medication and a couple of foil-wrapped packages. "You haven't eaten either, have you?"

I shook my head again. Lia shook the two foil packets in the air.

"You're lucky. I brought burritos."

"Have I told you yet that you're an angel?"

She sat next to me on the couch two minutes later, scooping one leg over the rest of her body. She had taken the burritos out of their wrappers and separated them into two plates that now lay on the little table between the couch and the TV. After thanking her, I took one of the plates. Before placing it on my lap, Lia pulled a thermometer out of one of the back pockets of her jeans.

She flicked on the thermometer and handed it over without a word. There was no need for instructions; we had been through this routine countless times, sometimes with the roles reversed. We sat in quiet anticipation, waiting for the thermometer to signal that it had done its job. I removed it from under my armpit, and instead of checking it myself, I instinctively passed it to her.

"You've got a light fever," she said, looking away from the thermometer and back at me. Worry etched her expression as she brushed a strand of hair from my forehead.

The only sounds in the house were the distant white noise from outside, occasionally interrupted by more dogs barking, and then the rhythmic ticking coming from the kitchen clock.

"Nothing that can't be fixed now that you're here," I grinned at her.

She shot me a reproachful look.

"Don't get too comfortable. It's not right for you to be so dependent on me. We talked about this the other day, Noah..."

"Bah, I have no idea what you're talking about," I retorted, shifting my focus to the burrito.

"All right, eat up. I don't want to give you meds on an empty stomach."

We ate in near silence, interspersed with occasional questions about her day and work. Lia usually spent hours in the studio with me and the boys, but there were times when she worked from home, focusing on her merchandising job, or went to the label's offices where logistics were handled. Lia was one of the hardest-working people I knew, and I admired her for it, knowing the challenges she had overcome while growing up. We had supported each other on our journeys, but the dedication each of us had shown to reach our goals was something that never ceased to amaze me.

Lia's drive and passion, despite her challenging past, left me in awe every day. She never took anything for granted, continually pushing herself towards her goals. However, I couldn't help but worry about her health. I knew that sometimes she sacrificed sleep and worked over-hours. It was a concern I had kept to myself, contemplating whether I should encourage her to ease up a bit or not, considering that I was just as much a workholic as she was.

After finishing our meal, Lia brought me a glass of water and a couple of pills, which I swallowed without complaint. She suggested I lie down in the bed, but I insisted on staying on the couch, which led her to sit with me and deciding on watching a movie.

By the time the film concluded, I had dozed off, and Lia had made sure I wasn’t cold by drapping one of the blankets stacked in the corner of the couch over me.

I woke up to the clinking of cups. When I half-opened my eyes, I saw Lia in the kitchen, holding two cups by the handles with two fingers of her left hand. Two cabinets were open on her right.

"Lia? What are you doing?" I asked with a slightly hoarse voice, my eyes still adjusting to the intensity of the light.

Lia turned her head to look at me in surprise over her shoulder, and the first thing she muttered was an apology.

"I didn’t mean to wake you. I'm rearranging the cabinets."

If she was already finishing, it meant I had been asleep for almost an hour. Since Jolly, Jesse, and I had moved into that little house, we hadn't cleaned the cabinets even once, and they must have been loaded with dust and cereals scattered like rocks everywhere, among other things.

"You didn’t have to," I replied, sitting up and pulling my arms from under the blanket to stretch them like a cat. I felt somewhat better. The stiffness that had kept me on the couch for most of the day seemed to have dissipated a bit, and I felt like getting up and flexing my knees.

"How are you feeling?" Lia asked, closing the cabinets. She had tied her hair in a poorly made bun and had taken off her boots.

I threw the blanket off and stood up, taking with me the glass of water I had left on the table earlier and took a couple of sips.

"Better. Thanks," I replied after swallowing.

On my way to the kitchen, my eyes glanced over Lia's backpack, and I deduced that she only had the essentials with her. I felt a tug in my chest. I didn't want her to leave.

"Are you staying tonight?"

Her hesitation didn't go unnoticed. However, she approached me and checked my temperature again with the back of her hand on my forehead.

I chuckled.

"What?" she asked, pulling her hand away.

"You’re tiny."

She looked at me with a frown.

"I'm not. You're a giraffe, which is totally different."

She was right, but when she was barefoot and so close, I once again realized our height difference, and Lia seemed like a little creature I could hide in my chest by wrapping my arms around her and squeezing.

I continued smiling because I couldn't help it. Clearly, her presence and the pills had taken effect.

"You're better," she concluded, "although you should take another pill before going to bed, just in case. And you should have a good dinner."

"Stay," I pleaded. "We can order a couple of pizzas and watch Spirited Away or a horror movie. What do you say?"

"I said have a proper dinner. Besides, I didn't bring anything. I don't have my MacBook, and I don't have any pjs here."

"As if that was an excuse… You have already slept in half of the t-shirts in my closet,” I rolled my eyes. "About the MacBook, nothing will happen if you don't work for a day. Come on, stay. Jolly won't be back for a few days, and I need a nurse."

"You don't need a nurse," she replied, letting out a smile.

But it wasn't hard to convince her. The difficult part was dealing with the sensation that invaded me when I saw her appear down the hallway before dinner, wearing my t-shirt and only a pair of long socks. It wasn't the first time (nor would it be the last) that I saw her like that. The feeling wasn't exactly unfamiliar either.

Before preparing dinner, we sat together on the couch for another while. Lia had taken a notebook from her backpack and showed me various drawings she had done in the past weeks. Most of them featured flowers, all the ones she knew (which were a lot), and also dark stuff where skeleatons, bats, and distorted faces were featured. The myriad of emotions expressed on paper always left me feeling overwhelmed.

"Hey, how is Black-Eyed Susan?" I asked when I remembered about the last plant I’d given her.

"Growing healthy and beautiful,” she said proudly, with a fucking beautiful smile.

I felt a tug at my heart, knowing that I had pulled her away from the comfort of being with her boyfriend and the other little things that made her happy.

"I'm sorry I made you come," I said after a while. "Did I ruin your day?"

Lia shook her head slowly, her expression unchanged. Concern, impatience... She extended an arm and took my hand, giving it a squeeze and then offering a warm but weak smile.

"I have no problem spending the day here taking care of you."

We continued talking, at times with few words and in a low voice. Midway through the conversation, her phone, which she had left on the kitchen island, buzzed silently multiple times, lighting up. Lia glanced at it disinterestedly over her shoulder. I sensed a wave of unease passing through her, but I didn't press to find out the reason because telling me about her weekend activities with her yoga class friends seemed to keep her away from any dark clouds.

When an ugly cough shook my body, Lia sat up and patted my thigh. She went to the kitchen and brought me a hot mug of lemon and ginger tea. After drinking a few sips, I let out a long sigh.

Lia knelt on the rug in front of me.

"Let's hope you get better by tomorrow. We'll see what to do then. I'll take care of preparing dinner, okay?"

"Mhmh,” I mumbled with my eyes closed. She made a move to get up, but I stopped her. "You know, it's easy not to miss you when you're here.”

Her features shifted to a tender expression.

"I know."

She kissed my forehead.

After dinner (an avocado and hummus salad, and some fruit for dessert), we started watching a series on HBO and ended up falling asleep halfway through. When I woke up, it was already pitch black outside. Lia had her head resting on my shoulder, and her breathing was calm. I brushed the tip of my nose against her hair. That woke her up. She opened her eyes in time for her iPhone to light up, announcing a call from Mitch from the coffee table. Her eyes widened, and she muttered a curse, straightening up tiredly.

Right in front of me, she rejected the call. I couldn’t help but notice a bunch of unread messages from Mitch on her screen.

"Does he know you're here?" I couldn't resist asking.

"No," she replied, serious, still not looking at me. "We had an argument this morning," she said, pretending to be busy checking something else on her phone. "I told him I was going back to my place.”

She dropped the phone on the table like it was no big deal and flopped back on the couch.

“You should’ve told him you’re here,” I said.

"No, I don't think that would have been a good idea..." she muttered, resting her head against the cushions, the sleep not fully gone from her bones.

"Why not? Lia, if you're serious about him, Mitch needs to learn to be okay with our friendship,” I insisted, throwing in some serious concern. I was also feeling sleepy and I looked forward to going back to my bed, letting the hours pass and waking up the next morning with this virus gone from my body.

But I was more concerned about her than myself.

Lia let out a long sigh and turned her head to face me.

"Mitch says friends don't behave the way you and I do."

The sentence hung in the air. For a fraction of a second, my eyes wandered down to her lips.

“Well,” I continued with a shrug of my shoulders, “not all friends have known each other since childhood. We’re different than other’s for that reason, don’t you think?”

Lia’s reply came after a while. It was just a sigh and her eyebrows raising and dropping, as if she was too tired to discuss the topic.

"Is he very jealous?" I found myself asking. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my hands too close to Lia’s bare legs.

"To a fair extent," she admitted, not sounding entirely convinced herself. “But I’m not ready to sacrifice our friendship.”

Unable to restrain myself, I touched her cheek and smiled at her with tenderness, grateful for her words but at the same time conflicted by the problems it might cause her in her relationship with that idiot Mitch.

“Does this have anything to do with the call from the other day?” I inquired. Her voice on the other side of the line hadn’t left my head ever since. She had me truly concerned, but she was adamant on not telling me what happened exactly that night.

It didn’t surprise me to see her tensing at its mention. She diverted her gaze. It pained me to see her like that. There was something she was not telling me, and the distance growing between us, the wall she seemed to be putting up, was keeping me from pushing in, reaching to her heart and finding the truth.

“Lia?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally responded. Abruptly, the back of her palm was back on my forehead, catching me off guard. “You’re heating up again. Take another pill before you go to bed, yeah?”

“Lia…” I insisted when she stood up.

“Noah, really,” she looked so tired now, the circles under her eyes more pronounced. There was no noise at all coming from the streets and the atmosphere inside of the house seemed to be charged with something unwelcome. “Can we just not talk about it now?”

“I just want to know if you’re okay. You seem tired than usual. I’m just cheking in on you the same way you’re here checking in on me.”

“And I appreciate that, but I’m fine, all right? If there’s something going on with me and my boyfriend, I’ll take care of it.”

Raising an eyebrow, I added a hint of mock concern. Lia didn't take kindly to it, her shoulders slumping, resembling a six-year-old on the verge of pouting.

“I can take your word on that, right?” I asked, totally unconvinced.

It took her a moment of hesitation before she nodded. Stepping closer, I placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into my chest.

“Omff,” she let out when she crashed against my body.

“That’s what you get if you give me those sad looks.”

“I’m not sad. I’m actually pretty happy being here with you.”

“I knew you liked playing nurse.”

She retaliated by pinching my side, prompting a loud ‘ouch’ from me, and I released her. Her soft laughter filled the living room, the house, and the last image etched in my mind that night was her figure siappearing into the dark shadows of the hallway, a small private smile reserved just for me drawn on her face. However, there was something else. Maybe it was the fact that the smile didn’t reach her eyes, or perhaps the fact that her eyes were not lighting up when she was smiling.

I stood motionless in the living room, my heart pounding a slow melody in my chest, still echoing the presence of Lia’s face just minutes ago. I felt unsettled, and in a futile attempt to seek reassurance, my fingers instinctively brushed against the tattoo on my neck, the one that read her name.

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