feverishly soft
(apple x cherry)
•••
The apartment door clicked open quietly, carefully, like Cherry was afraid of disturbing something fragile on the other side.
Her arms were full.
A plastic bag looped around her wrist, another hugged to her chest, a third tucked awkwardly under her elbow. Cold medicine, soup, tea, honey, tissues, a thermometer she wasn’t entirely sure how to use properly but bought anyway. She had stood in the pharmacy aisle longer than necessary, googling things, rereading labels, wanting to get it right.
Because Apple didn’t get sick. Not really. Not like this.
Cherry nudged the door shut with her foot, whispering a soft, “I’m back,” into the quiet apartment.
No response.
She frowned slightly, shifting the bags as she stepped further inside.
“Apple?”
Still nothing.
Cherry’s chest tightened just a little, a flicker of worry pushing her forward. She set the bags down quickly on the kitchen counter, barely organized, then moved toward the living room.
And then she stopped.
Apple was on the couch.
Curled in on herself, half-buried in a blanket, hair slightly mussed, face softer than Cherry had ever seen it. There was a faint flush to her cheeks, her usual composed posture replaced by something looser, heavier.
And tucked right against her chest..?
“...Shirley Temple?” Cherry whispered.
The cat was curled up like she belonged there, perfectly content, her small body rising and falling with Apple’s slow breaths. One of Apple’s hands rested in her fur, fingers loosely curled like she’d fallen asleep petting her.
Cherry blinked.
Once. Twice.
This was the same woman who usually regarded Shirley Temple with distant tolerance at best. The same woman who would gently move the cat off her lap after a minute or two, who claimed she “didn’t dislike her” but also very clearly did not go out of her way to interact.
And now?
Cherry’s expression melted immediately.
“Oh,” she breathed, softer this time.
Apple stirred at the sound, her brows pulling together slightly before her eyes cracked open. She looked disoriented for a second, gaze unfocused, then it landed on Cherry.
“…You’re back,” she murmured, voice rough, quieter than usual.
Cherry’s heart squeezed.
“Yeah,” she said gently, stepping closer. “I went to the store. I got you stuff.”
Apple blinked slowly, like processing that took more effort than it should. Her hand shifted slightly in Shirley Temple’s fur, almost subconsciously, like she needed to keep contact with something warm.
“…Okay,” she said.
Cherry crouched beside the couch, careful, like any sudden movement might break whatever this was. Her eyes flicked between Apple and the cat, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at her lips.
She didn’t say anything about it, didn’t tease.
She knew better.
Instead, she reached out, brushing a few strands of hair away from Apple’s forehead. Her touch lingered there, testing the heat.
“You’re really warm,” she murmured.
Apple exhaled softly, leaning into the touch without even thinking about it.
“Mm.”
That alone made Cherry’s chest ache a little.
Apple didn’t lean, she didn’t seek. But right now?
Cherry softened completely.
“I got you medicine,” she said quietly. “And soup. And tea. And, um… like, everything I thought you might need.”
Apple watched her, eyes heavier than usual, that sharpness dulled just enough to let something softer slip through.
“You didn’t have to get everything,” she said.
Cherry shook her head quickly. “I wanted to.”
Apple didn’t argue.
Instead, after a second, she shifted slightly, her arm adjusting around Shirley Temple like she was making space.
“…Come here,” she murmured.
Cherry blinked, surprised.
“Are you sure?” she asked softly, glancing at the cat.
Apple’s expression didn’t change much, but her hand moved, reaching out just slightly toward Cherry, fingers brushing against her sleeve.
“Cherry,” she said, quieter now.
That was enough.
Cherry didn’t hesitate again. She slipped onto the couch carefully, easing in beside her, mindful of both Apple and the cat. The blanket shifted, and Apple immediately leaned into her, like it was instinct.
Like she’d been waiting for it.
Cherry stilled for a second, then slowly relaxed, her arm coming up around Apple’s shoulders, holding her close.
Apple let out a soft breath, something almost like relief, her head settling against Cherry’s chest.
“…You’re cold,” Apple murmured faintly.
Cherry huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re just really warm.”
Apple made a small, dismissive sound, but she shifted closer anyway, pressing into her like she was trying to steal the contrast.
Cherry’s fingers found her hair again, gently combing through it, slow and soothing.
Shirley Temple adjusted slightly between them, completely unbothered, now equally content nestled against both of them.
Cherry glanced down at the cat, then back at Apple, her smile small and fond.
She still didn’t say anything about it.
Instead, she pressed a soft kiss to Apple’s temple.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered.
Apple didn’t respond right away.
But her hand tightened slightly in Cherry’s shirt, holding onto her.
“Was Shirley good? When I was gone?” Cherry whispers against Apple’s temple.
Apple feigned indifference, “She wouldn’t leave me alone. It’s like she knew I was sick or something.”
Cherry smiles proudly, “She’s really smart.”
Then Apple mumbled, so softly, “She’s not all that bad,” before quickly adding, “I guess.”
Cherry bit her lip before pressing a kiss to Apple’s warm forehead, “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to her.”
