Just Some Random Bullshit

“Hey, hey, one at a time!” You say in between laughs, as they overwhelm you. Your feet wobble and you can feel yourself swaying back and forth, threatening to fall over at any moment. “Alright, I think that’s enough. Come, let’s eat!”

You scatter their feed into their trays. When the chickens are distracted with pecking at their breakfast, you grab the eggs they’ve laid and place them into your basket. They would fetch a nice price at the bazaar, especially once they’ve been processed and turned into mayonnaise.

Better go do that now, you think to yourself, stepping outside the barn. It would take some time today, what with the wind blowing gently. Away from the protective roof, you feel a drop of water plop against your hair. And as soon as you glance upwards, a few more droplets fall to the earth, steadily transforming into a downpour. As you rush to the windmill, inhaling the scent of petrichor and damp earth, you can’t help but feel relief thanks to the gracious break that Mother Nature had provided you today. Why, you now have all the time in the world to do whatever you want. Maybe you could go fishing, or try out a few new recipes you had learned recently?

Your eyes naturally drift over to the path that heads towards town. The answer was obvious. It had been a couple of days since you last had the chance to visit your sweetheart, Jules. Only having the opportunity to see each other in passing, as work on the farm kept you occupied. With the start of the autumn season, Jules had been buried in grading and other matters as well. Their interactions as of late primarily occurred when they crossed paths in town or at the bazaar grounds. An apologetic smile, fingers brushing against each other as hands would shyly interlock, murmured promises of making time soon, very soon. And if they were so inclined, a shy kiss shared underneath the swaying branches and banners, hidden from the passersby going to and fro on their own business.

Today would be the way. With a determined nod, you raise your arms above your head as a makeshift shield against the elements and take off. Along the way, you pass by some of the townsfolk rushing about as well. You shout out in cheerful greeting, to which they respond in equal fervor and with knowing smiles. They already know where you are headed. In no time at all, you’ve ascended the steps and are knocking on the familiar door. From inside, you hear the sounds of slow movement, before the door creaks open, allowing golden light to spill onto the cobbled pathway below.

Jules’ eyes, cloudier than usual, widens in surprise when he meets yours. “Darling?” He says in a hoarse voice, sounding astonished. “What are you doing? You’ll catch a cold.”

Still, he opens the door wider so you can step inside. Slipping your shoes off, you turn to smile at him. “I’ll be fine. I wasn’t going to let a rainy day go to waste.”

Jules returns your smile, light briefly flashing in his eyes for a moment. You notice the dark circles underneath them. He looks utterly exhausted. “Well then, in that case, I’m very happy to see you. Give me a moment, I’ll put some tea on the kettle.”

He shuffles towards the kitchen, slower than usual. Your gaze can’t help but linger on his rather comfortable manner of dressing. Though as cute as he looks, it’s strange all the same. As if he had been planning on going back to bed. You follow him behind him, inhaling the subtle scent of herbs and fruits. The table is spotless and freshly cleaned dishes are piled on the countertop. Jules sets two mugs down and turns to grab the tea tin from the top shelf. However, instead of opening the cupboard, he instead stumbles forward.

“S-sorry,” he exhales slowly, gripping the counter tight to balance himself.

Frowning, you take a cautious step forward and touch his shoulder lightly. “Are you alright?”

Jules doesn’t answer for a moment. Then, he stands up straight and gives a slow nod. “Y-yes. Why don’t you sit down? The tea will be ready in a moment.”

Still not convinced, you reach your hand up to brush against his forehead. Damp with sweat and hot to the touch.

“Jules, you’re burning up!” You say in alarm. Your hand falls down to your side as you study his face closer. Indeed, you see that his cheeks are flushed and his face overall has a distinct sheen reflecting in the light. “You should’ve said you aren’t feeling well!”

“I’m fine, truly.” He tries to argue but it isn’t very convincing. “Please, don’t worry.”

“It’s too late for that. I’ll make the tea, Jules. You go and lie down. Okay?”

It was futile to argue. Jules knew as much. He hung his head and retreated to his room as you busy yourself with the tea tin and kettle. The fragrance of bright mint wafts around the quiet house, blending perfectly with the mild sweetness of the honey you mixed into Jules’ cup. You find him lying in bed, an arm draping over his face to obscure his expression from you.

“Here you go,” you say gently, pushing the cup into his hands. Grabbing the chair from his desk that is piled up with papers of all kinds, you set it down in front of the bed across from him, watching as he slowly sits back up to take a sip. He closes his eyes and revels in the warmth.

“Does Derek know?” You break the silence first. The answer is already gnawing at you, and you suppress a sigh when he stops sipping his tea so he can offer a small guilty smile.

“No. I made us breakfast and sent him on his way. I didn’t want to worry him.”

You can already imagine Derek’s frustration when he returns home from work later and discovers the state of his older brother.

“I’m sorry again.” Jules interrupts your train of thought. “You came all the way to visit me, in horrible weather no less. And here I am.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly.” You lean forward, your voice soft, and tuck his blanket around his body. “It’s a good thing I stopped by. You deserve to be taken care of too, you know?”

Jules went quiet for a moment as he mulled over your words. You reach out and set your hand on his, giving it an empathetic squeeze. Jules’ next breath was shuddery, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and returned the gesture.

“Can I ask for something selfish?” He asked quietly.

“Of course.” You whisper in return. “Anything.”

“Could you… stay here with me a little longer? I don’t want to be alone.”

How badly you want to laugh and ask him: that’s it? But you know better. So instead you press a soft kiss atop his head and whisper: “of course I can.”