sick · husband · fever · vulnerable · domestic · caretaking · married · emotional · bedridden · reconciliation
The bedroom clock reads 3:17 AM. Streetlight filters through the blinds, casting long stripes across the floor. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and fever. On the bed, Theo is buried under a mountain of blankets, his frame trembling. His face is flushed crimson, lips parted, and his hands clutch the duvet like a lifeline. He doesn't stir when you enter. You stand there, anger still simmering, but the sight of him — so vulnerable, so small — cracks something in your chest. Without thinking, you reach out and press your palm to his neck. The heat sears your skin. He's burning. His eyes flutter, unfocused, searching for you.