#sickcember

When your fatigue makes it difficult for everyday activities, Marc immediately steps in to support you, often without you ever even needing to ask. He does it so naturally and in a way that never makes you feel bad, the way Marc looks at and loves you doesn’t give you a single reason to feel shame. You never feel guilty or that when he supports you he’s taking on more of a caregiver role than that of a partner. 

When you feel like you can’t go another day without washing your hair but the fatigue and body aches make it feel impossible and bone-shattering, Marc will sit in the bath or shower with you. He’ll gently wash your hair, he’s patiently learnt and memorised how to wash it, use the right products, how to style and dry it based on your hair type. 

If getting out of bed is too painful and makes it hard to keep up with personal hygiene, Marc will help and find ways to bring it to bed and make it more accessible and less tiring for you. When your chronic fatigue comes hand in hand with muscle pain, he’ll get heating pads and wheat bags for you, he’ll sit in bed with the sore muscle in his lap and gently massage it with anti-inflammatory creams and ointments. 

Marc is practical and wants to make life easier for you in any way he can, especially when you’re having a chronic fatigue flare up and it’s all so much more difficult. So he does what he can, these acts of service to help make things a bit easier and more comfortable for you. He’ll stay by your side throughout it all.

Jake Lockley

Jake picks up all of your medications from the pharmacy for you, he takes you to appointments and will always carry extras with him in his coat pockets and in a pill organiser attached to his key chain. 

Jake makes a long playlist for you that’s over 12 hours long, it’s filled with Spanish songs and songs that he finds to be soft and soothing, it’s a sleep playlist so that it’s noise that is soothing but not distracting that you can listen to and help you doze off and rest. If you prefer ASMR he’ll make you another long playlist with ASMR tracks and videos, he’ll giggle and watch with wide eyes during his curating duties. 

He’ll quietly do meal prep so it’s one less task you need to worry about when you’re feeling unwell and he’ll also make sure to always get your favourite snacks and takeout. He’ll never say anything to you but he always makes sure to pick up snacks and drinks that he knows will help with blood pressure, sodium, migraines etc. And he’ll double check the kitchen before he goes out each time just so he knows what he needs to pick up or if everything is good. 

Something that Jake takes seriously is trying to make home, especially your bedroom, feel as comfortable as possible. He gets the softest pillows, the cosiest blankets and makes sure that there’s enough sets of both cooling blankets but also fluffy warm ones so that you’re never out and will be prepared no matter the weather. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible. Jake will lay in bed with you and gently rub your back or head and hum a melody to you, hoping it’ll help you rest and see how much you’re loved. 

Steven Grant

Steven goes down several rabbit holes on learning more about your health conditions, possible treatments and ways to help at home as fatigue management and also for when flare ups happen. 

He finds out which teas are best for sleep, fatigue, brain fog, and muscle pain. He’ll pick up different teas and brands on his way home from work so you always have plenty of options and never run out at home. Steven will be constantly brewing you plenty of cups of tea, even on better fatigue and energy days, telling you it’s important to stay hydrated and you’ll never have an empty glass when you’re stuck in bed in pain and exhaustion. Each delivery of a new warm mug also comes with a gentle kiss on your forehead or cheek too. 

When you get a fatigue related headache or migraine, Steven will get cold compresses and the migraine relief cold caps for you. When you’re lying down with them over your forehead, Steven will try to subtly check the temperature of them with his hand and then try to discreetly swap them for new ones or take them off when he can tell it’s time for that. 

All three of them are big on pacing but Steven will be the most vocal on encouraging you to pace or to help make activities and responsibilities feel more doable by breaking them down. To match with the comfy blankets and pillows Jake makes sure you have, Steven will come home with soft toys from the museum gift shop for you, friends to keep you company when you’re feeling unwell in bed and he’ll also give them silly voices and pretend to talk, smiling that big, beautiful and goofy smile of his whenever he sees it pull out a smile from you, no matter how small it is. 

No cost is too big to Nathan when it comes to you, especially to improving your quality of life and comfort. If you believe in love languages, Nathan’s love language is spending his unlimited resources and inventive energies on you to make your life easier but also to just make you happier. 

Before you’ve even moved into the compound, Nathan has your feedback about the structure, rooms, renovations and also that of several project managers and accessibility advisors- it’s one of the few things he doesn’t even consult any of his AI creations on. By the time you’ve moved in every possible thing that you could think of has been fixed to make the compound a more accessible environment for you in terms of symptoms, pain, mobility etc. 

The home theatre seats are renovated to be less stiff, more adjustable and with better support for your body when you want to curl up in a dark room and watch something. If you’re able to use a hydrotherapy pool, Nathan has one built for you and will even have physiotherapists fly out twice a week to do sessions in there with you. 

Nathan has all the specialists at the top of their fields, you could imagine flown out to the compound to support you, he even has specialists for specialties you didn’t even know were a thing before meeting them. Nathan uses his resources so that you can explore every treatment plan you want and have a tailored programme of well-researched care approaches that are both medical and more holistic. He will still make passive aggressive comments about some of these and to some practitioners faces in his constant need to assert his snarky and intellectual brilliance. 

Nathan’s position in Bluebook means that he can choose his schedule, he can be present for any appointments you want him there for and he’ll usually drop in for at least a few minutes each time anyway. It also means that when you’re having flare ups he can be extra present, which he always is. 

He of course is someone who can function at an insane level on little sleep, he’s spent plenty of all-nighters with you when your pain is that bad and you haven’t been able to sleep. He’ll sit with you the whole time, cuddle you if that’s what you need, prepare cold compresses and heat pads for your aching bones, run baths and showers for you to try and soothe your body pains. He’ll be so gentle and sympathetic that it’s the closest you’ve ever seen to him being completely snark-free. It’ll start to lightly come back out though when the pain subsides and you’re able to rest a bit. But Nathan will sit however you need him to and do whatever you want without a single complaint, he can be a bit of a brat but he’d never say no to you. He’s a man of science but in his eyes, you hung the stars.

Santiago Garcia

When you’re in pain he’s as attentive as possible. He’s trained himself to completely recognise every microexpression your face is capable of making and sifted through them all to know which ones are indicators of pain, fatigue, brain fog etc. 

When he notices or you’ve had a busy and long day, especially one with activities he knows can cause a flare up, he’ll gently and silently manoeuvre a limb into his lap so he can gently massage any aching joints and muscles. He’ll use any topical ointments,  creams, or balms you have that help soothe your body and he does it without even thinking, as if it’s second nature to him. 

Santiago is a meal prep legend. He has a day set aside regularly for checking the kitchen, seeing what’s in there, checking the fridge and freezer before heading out to do a grocery shop. He’ll prepare different comfort meals for you that can be conveniently heated up or snacked on for when you’re feeling unwell and cooking and organising food just isn’t something you have mental or physical capacity for. 

He’s extremely practical and has a heavy strategy focused mind. If you’re having a flare up with symptoms, if you need to raise something with specialists he’ll listen to everything you’re saying and come up with a plan. What can help at home, how to approach appointments, what to bring up and goals to get out of them etc. He’ll set alarms to help with reminders about taking medications, drinking water, doing therapy or treatments. If you use something like a TENS machine he’ll have reminders and timers set for that. 

Santiago hates to see you in pain and just wants to make you as happy and as comfortable as possible. It’s what you deserve and he views the two of you as a team, it’s important to him that he’s there and shows up. That he does what he can, whether it’s showing up to appointments, meal prepping, setting reminders etc. Every little thing that can make your life easier and better is a win to him because just getting to have you in his life has made his own life so much better.

Jake Lockley

Jake has spent years silently taking care of Steven and Marc, he’s good at it and for most of his life it’s gone unnoticed. He’s a great partner for somebody who is chronically ill, he’s practical, supportive, he never makes a big deal out of it and has never made you feel guilty or bad about your pain. He’s beyond understanding and Jake always makes you feel adored. If he ever learns of someone making you feel that way, he’ll teach them a lesson. He of course will be very tight-lipped about how that lesson went but it always works. 

He’ll gladly act as a personal chauffeur, driving you to every single one of your appointments, hospital visits, prescription pick ups, comfort snack runs, and anything else that comes up or that you need. He’s the best and most considerate driver you’ve ever been in a vehicle with before. Jake always leaves at an appropriate time that’s neither late or too early, you’re never late to appointments, magically so even when there’s traffic. He never drives too fast or carelessly, his driving never makes you feel nauseous like public transport or like Uber drivers have in the past. It’s always a smooth and thoughtful ride with Jake. 

Jake loves to knit, he’ll knit you beanies and gloves to wear during winter to help with how your body reacts to the cold, especially if you’re more sensitive to temperature changes and have dysautonomia or raynaud's symptoms. He’ll make you several different pairs of gloves so that you can have different colours and patterns to wear for different days of the week and have options for outfit coordination. You give him a soft kiss each time he makes you a new pair and it makes him blush and whenever you wear one of his homemade creations, he can’t help but feel so proud and give you the biggest and most lovesick smile possible. 

Together, you’ll start to share hobbies and find hobbies that don’t exhaust your body too much and that can easily be done in bed or on the couch. He loves to spend time with you and he loves whatever you want to do, every interest of yours he finds so interesting and he always has something interesting to add to conversations or contribute to your hobby. Jake is an interesting brain that you both get to delight in. He’ll do crafts with you, teach you how to knit if you don’t know already and happily fix any mistakes you make, watch films with you, play lego. 

If your chronic pain means you need to cancel plans or dates, Jake doesn’t hold it against you but totally understands and will be happy with a home-date or just doing nothing- whether that’s with you in bed or on the couch or giving you a bit of time to yourself. He loves you and is there.

Anselm Vogelweide

When living with Anselm and being the centre of his world and attention, you never need to want for anything. Everything is taken care of and thought of, it helps having a partner that has his own lived experiences of chronic pain and unlimited resources. Anselm’s able to have any accessibility renovations done with the snap of his fingers, he has the most experienced doctors and specialists, occupational therapists etc. come to the estate and makes sure that you’re always taken seriously when it comes to your health. You know it’s quite likely linked to the fact that he’s not someone you want on your bad side, they’re probably scared of him and his trigger tendencies. 

Anselm has somebody come to his estate so that they can create a custom-made wardrobe of accessible and comfortable clothes for you. Nothing with difficult zips in awkward places, no itchy materials or impossible buttons to do up. But pieces that still represent you and your style and are gorgeous but comfortable and practical. There’s also plenty of cosy loungewear for both warmer and cooler days for when you’re feeling ill and your chronic pain means it’s a bed day for you. The bed always has the comfiest sheets and Anselm has a million different blankets and pillows for you of different levels of softness and firmness so you’ll always have options no matter how you’re feeling. 

If you happen to be having one of those days where your chronic pain and symptoms are so bad that you’ve lost your appetite or you’re struggling to eat because of nausea or stomach pain he’ll have a whole menu of accommodating and more suitable meals prepared, you won’t be starved for options. If there’s something you’re craving, Anselm has a cousin go out and bring it back to you as soon as possible, it doesn’t matter whether it’s something small or something that means somebody has to spend six hours on the road for. You deserve every little comfort in the world and he’ll make sure you don’t get anything less. 

He’ll stay by your side the whole time, he’ll sit at bed and hold your hand, caressing it gently as he watches you. He’ll gently encourage you to eat what you can and to stay hydrated while being his completely theatrical usual self. Anselm’s particular about it and will try to bribe you into extra sips and mouthfuls. He’ll find ways to spoil you either way, of course. 

Shimmer! Kane

Your Kane has been different lately but it’s not something you’ll complain about when it’s a miracle to have him back after so long. There’s plenty of things he’s had to relearn himself with reintegrating back to society- you and your pain technically not one of them. Kane’s more in touch with the environment since his return and seems to inherently know that like all things, chronic pain can and does change with the seasons and temperature changes can play a bit part in flare ups of aches, pains and annoying symptoms. 

In winter, Kane fashions the bedroom into a cosy haven and cocoons you with layers and layers of jumpers, thick socks, quilts, blankets and the fluffiest pillows. He wouldn’t only encourage it but also find it completely adorable if during the colder months you bundled up to the point of wearing a beanie, scarf, and gloves indoors. He thinks it’s a cute sight and it makes him smile, he’s never seen someone make gloves look so cute, he’ll playfully bite your gloved fingers when you’re cuddling and love the reactions he gets from you. When it’s the warmer months, he’ll go through everything in the linen cupboard to find what are the coolest and most breathable materials to use for the summer cocoon, he’ll keep wheat bags and cold compresses in the freezer for any dizziness, hot flushes, or ice packs you need for your body. 

Kane doesn’t like to see you in pain, it really upsets him and seems to almost physically pain him too. But he does love cuddling with you when you’re feeling unwell.  He’ll spoon you and wordlessly but happily contort into whatever odd positions you need to move in to feel a little less uncomfortable. Kane runs warm and will keep his hands on your stomach, shoulders any body part of yours that needs his natural heat as a hot water bottle alternative. You don’t even need to say a word, he just knows and he’ll nuzzle into you as he does. 

Steven Grant

Steven will have a large calendar in the kitchen and write all of your appointments down on it in a big, bold pen and have a colour-coded system that you still haven’t quite figured out yet but don’t want to ask about with how long it’s been. Steven will offer to come with you to any and all appointments, he’ll happily sit in the waiting room or go in with you, whatever you’re most comfortable with. Before each appointment he’ll hold your hand and tell you how amazing you are and how he feels so lucky to have you in his life, there’s been plenty of appointment days where your fatigue and brain fog have been that bad all that you remember is the smile or wide eyes of other patients in the waiting room watching or how he can make your cheeks heat up so quickly. 

Whenever he comes to appointments with you, Steven’s great at remembering random pieces of information that slip out of the cracks for your tired, sore, and overwhelmed brain to remember. He also is great at thinking of and preparing important questions that are helpful and will ask the practitioner and then note it down. He has an appointment with a lot of scribbled down medical information in his eccentric but perfectly-Steven handwriting. 

If you have mobility aids, Steven will sit with you at the table and turn the day into a crafternoon to help you personalise them. Whether that’s painting them, bedazzling them, or crocheting covers and extra grips for your mobility aids. He’ll watch dozens of videos and he’ll pick up craft supplies on his way home from work or if you’re feeling up for it you’ll spend at least a couple of hours in the aisles at your local craft store going over all the different colour options for supplies. Steven’s inspired to learn how to crochet after seeing someone come into the museum with a walking stick that’s dressed in a crochet sleeve. 

When you’re in bad pain, Steven will sit with you. He’ll make you dozens of cups of tea, get out your favourite snacks, he’ll put on your favourite films and do a cosy movie marathon with you if you’re needing a distraction. He’ll compile a list of your favourite films and even how much mental capacity is needed to watch them so that you have something no matter how low on brain power you are or burnt out you’re feeling. 

Steven’s also more than happy to spend time together just doing nothing. He knows that sometimes when you’re in pain and in a lot of fatigue, even having a film on in the background feels impossible. Your lovely Steven is just as comfortable doing nothing with you as he is with anything else you could be doing. You’re his favourite person to spend time with and he wants to come up with as many ways as possible for you to spend time together in ways that are relaxing, restful, and comfortable for you.

Miguel O'Hara

Miguel does a lot of research on your symptoms and conditions, he’s well researched on chronic pain and also the different expertise knowledge levels across different universes. He takes your pain seriously and hates to see you in it, he can immediately sense when it’s happening and it breaks his heart each time. Miguel never makes it about himself fortunately, he understands that it sucks for both of you but it’s fifty million times worse for you than it is for him. 

When you’re feeling sore and the fatigue is weighing you down, he’s the type of partner who’d want you to sit and nap on him while he works. And by working, that’s him pretending to work as he gets too distracted by having you close to him and how it reminds him that he’s madly in love with you. If you’re able to doze off on him, he’ll sit as still as possible, only occassionally tilting his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. Miguel will glare at anyone who dares to step a foot into his office, they’ll all quickly leave and then he’ll whisper instructions to Lyla that nobody can come in and disturb you both. That you need your rest and anyone who interrupts it will regret it, that no amount of empanadas from the cafeteria will fix it. 

In both his office and home, he keeps extra medications of yours, different ointments, and acupressure mats, weighted blankets, ice packs, heat pads etc. All of your chronically ill supplies that you could need during a flare up, he also saves his comfiest and softest shirts for you to rest in. He wants to be a safe person for you to go to when you’re unwell and for you to feel comfortable enough to rest and not feeling like you need to hide the pain you’re in, he knows you’re constantly doing it and that you hide it so well. He tries to remind you that you don’t need to pretend for him.

Richard Muñoz

Richard is extremely sweet, you couldn’t ask for a kinder partner. He never makes you feel bad about your chronic pain or takes it out on you, he wants to understand, to be there and give you a slither of comfort. He knows you deserve the world and feels lucky to just be in your presence. 

Richard will patiently and attentively listen to you whenever you tell him about your pain; what it feels like, how long it’s been going on for, medications you’re on or have tried, diagnoses you have or are still fighting for. He listens and commits each word to his memory, he’ll do research on chronic pain and different types of treatments. He’ll watch videos on social media and read plenty of blog posts and research articles too, he’ll often read one over his lunch break. He loves research and takes it seriously, so he thinks it’s extra important to do research that’s beneficial for you. 

If you’re in a position of something like hydrotherapy being an option for you, he’ll drive you to the pools and happily do hydrotherapy classes with you with a sweet smile the whole time. He’ll join you for physiotherapy and help with anything he can. Sometimes he’ll find an interesting study and print it out for you, he’ll help you organise your health folder that has studies, letters from doctors, notes, lists of medications and diagnoses etc. He’ll gently try to advocate for you if you ever need it in medical settings. 

Your softly spoken lover will come home after work with your favourite flowers or snacks in hand when he knows you’ve had a bad pain or fatigue day. He’s the type of person who will happily cook meals for you and make hearty meals and believe that the love that goes into them is important and that it’s an act of service that you’ll appreciate. He’ll cook dinners and take into account any dietary requirements you have with your symptoms or allergies. He’ll bring you meals to eat in bed and sit with you and speak about his day in his soft tone while you both eat or he’ll happily let you use his body for however you want to cuddle up on the couch. Richard loves to sit with you and watch telenovelas and films on the television, It’s the small moments of quality time with you that he really loves. 

Sunlight was streaming through the window, it looked like a lovely day outside but it didn’t change how the soft room felt. You could feel a chill rattling through your bones, they were heavy and you felt like you’d been hit by a car and then it had just kept going. 

You curled up in the bed, trying to nestle into the blankets you’d piled up to cocoon yourself in during your desperate, sick search for warmth. Your beloved Lottie wasn’t in bed with you, she was always warm, a body temperature that was naturally, perfectly cosy. 

Lottie’s absence adds another ache to your body and you curl up on yourself more as you close your eyes and try to drift off back to sleep. You sniffle and raise your hand to rub your temple, your brain is feeling foggy and you feel like each of your bones is made of bricks. 

There’s a hushed creaking as the door opens, it’s in the way she moves, she might’ve had a penchant for shoplifting as a teenager, as an adult it now translated to never slamming doors and entering rooms with an elegant, quiet movement. 

It’s enough to wake you though, you’re feeling more sensitive to noise in your sick state and you turn your head to look at the ethereal woman walking in. Her kaftan flows prettily with each of her steps and it makes you smile. She’s a goddess of a woman. 

“Oh my love…” She softly speaks as her eyes widen, taking in the look of your tired, heavy eyes and glistening forehead. 

It’s warm outside, a pleasant day, but you’re still feeling so cold as you lay in bed with chills running down your spine. Lottie remembers the warm breeze outside and how it contrasts to the sweat beads she can see have already formed on your forehead. 

Your brown eyed lover glides over to you, she sits down on the bed next to you and leans over to gently place her hand onto your forehead, checking your temperature. Lottie gives you a reassuring smile as the warmth of your skin confirms what she already knew, you have a fever too. She moves to give your hand a gentle squeeze, despite the cold you feel her touch never fails to warm you up. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks as she traces over the lines on your palm. 

“C-cold… Just… Just gross…” You murmur tiredly. Talking feels like it’s requiring a lot more effort than it should. 

“Hm,” she hums thoughtfully and tilts her head. Her eyes sparkling as she looks at you and flashes you a warm smile. “You don’t feel very cold at all.” 

You feel Lottie give your hand another gentle squeeze and then she walks over to the basin. It makes your skin tingle and your cheeks heat up more. She dampens a face cloth for it to act as a cold compress and then wrings out the excess water.  

“Here, here… Come on…” Lottie speaks softly as she comes back and sits at your side, gently pressing it against your sweating forehead. Her brown eyes are warm and they quickly flick around your face, taking everything in. 

You give her a small smile and close your eyes, there’s a slight sense of relief that washes over you at the feeling of the cold compress. 

“Have you drunk anything?” Lottie asks and you give a slight shake of your head, you’ve spent the whole morning since she went out in bed, feeling whatever was happening to your body just grow. Lottie nods and lets out a small sigh. “Well, I’ll make you some tea…” 

“Thanks, Lot.” You whisper with a tired nod. Watching her as she gets up and you already feel her absence like another blanket of cold being tightly wrapped around your body. 

Lottie opens cupboards, making her movements as light as possible to muffle any noises from distracting you. She fills a pot with water and lets it boil. She enjoys the ritual of making tea, it’s something that gives her a feeling of connectedness to herself, to more. 

There’s a tenderness in each of her actions, each step that she takes to brew the perfect cup of tea. She brews it with love, something that you’ll feel when you taste the warm liquid. She scoops up the small kawakawa leaves from the other side of the world, soil she knows but hasn’t stepped foot on in so long. Too long. It ends up being expensive, something others wouldn’t care for but it’s special to her. It makes her smile and feel connected to her roots, which makes it worthwhile. 

She scoops the small green leaves into the infuser as the aroma fills her nostrils and puts in small but precious bursts of colourful petals of other soothing flowers and places them into the pot. She starts to grate a ginger and adds it, she lets it brew and then cuts through a plump yellow lemon. The zesty, fresh scent fills the air and your love pauses for a moment to inhale it. 

It’s a testament of her love, how much she loves and cares for you. She’s a warm soul who does care deeply for others, it just may be misguided at times, but you hold such a special place in her heart. More than others. So it makes her smile to care for you in this way, to get to make you tea and sit with you while you’re ill. For her to share these precious goods and less pleasant times with you. 

The water in the pot starts to change to a pale, murky green as the leaves seep in. She watches it and then her brow furrows in concern as she hears you cough and sees your body shake with it. Your throat feels itchy and you scratch your collarbone. 

Lottie sighs and then steeps the tea, watching it separate and swiftly pours it into two handmade mugs, she squeezes some of the sliced lemon in and smiles as she comes back over to the bed and sits next to you. 

Setting the mugs down you blink tiredly, your eyelids feeling weighed down with fatigue as your angel of a partner sits in front of you. She helps you slowly sit up in bed and adjusts the cold compress on your forehead, getting a discreet feel of how warm your forehead is now. 

“You didn’t have to make me tea.” You whisper and lean onto her shoulder, her body felt like it was made to perfectly fit yours. 

“You need to drink, stay hydrated, and I wanted to. Drink up, love.” She says in her soothing voice that you could listen to it all day, she could read kitchen appliance instruction manuals and it would still be soothing. 

“Thank you, I love you.” You smile and gratefully take the mug, feeling the warmth of the steam on your face and you try to breathe the scent in, knowing it’s probably good for your sinuses. You take a sip. 

“I love you too.” She smiles warmly, feeling appreciated as she watches you take the first and then second sip of the warm beverage, brewed with love. Being with you warms her up just as much as it warms your soul. 

You keep taking slow sips and then place the mug back down and lie down, you gently tug at her arm, wanting her to lie down with you and she picks up on the cue. Lottie presses a gentle kiss to your lips and smiles, she didn’t care if your bugs were contagious. She fortunately had a good immune system and she’d just drink more of her niche smoothies and homemade vitamin shots, just in case. 

“Just rest up, my love.” Lottie’s voice is soft, like a sweet lullaby lulling you to drift off and sleep against her. A soft hum escapes your lips as you cuddle into her. 

Lottie’s fingers caress your arm, the touch is faint, featherlight. She applies light pressure to pressure points she whispers will give you some relief and open up different parts of yourself and you just nod sleepily. Lottie’s touch is usually soft but you can feel all the love there as she touches you soothingly, as always, her touch is a balm to your body.

A groan leaves your lips as you blink frantically trying to fight away the flashing lights of the migraine aura that had been persistently bothering you more and more as the morning went on. You fiddle with your keys outside of your apartment, the clattering metal and your keychain rings in your ears, you flinch from the irritating noise sitting in your hands. The ache and the ringing makes you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that will be some kind of reset for when you open them again. 

With a sigh you open your eyes and finally push the right key into the lock and quickly stumble in through the door. As soon as your feet land on the apartment floor you drop your bag down. It wasn’t even midday and you had already left and called in sick on everything you’d planned for the day so you could come home, feel sorry for yourself and rest. But your head had been pounding and giving you grief the last hour, you knew you were more than valid and there was no way you could function. 

You don’t bother to move your bag, it stays haphazardly on the floor where it had been forgotten, as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your face screws up as it’s a strong tide that somehow, but thankfully, doesn’t lead to vomiting. You try to take a shaky deep breath in as you make your way to the kitchen sink knowing you should try to keep your fluid intake up high. 

The countertop is smooth, cool and steady, a stable force for you to grip on as the pulsing pain in your head gets worse. You let out another loud groan as you blink your eyes shut and try to breathe, thinking you must be home alone. Marc had heard you come in but he made himself known to you then when he came over, hearing that noise of discomfort and knowing something is wrong. You’re shocked to see Marc home, you blink a couple of times. You’d worn sunglasses on your journey home to make the blinding and nauseating sun and lights a bit dimmer for your sensitive eyes. 

“Hey… Hey….” Marc says as he gently puts a hand on the middle of your back and rubs soothing, soft circles. “What’s wrong?” His voice is so gentle as he looks at you in concern. 

“It’s… My head- just everything…” You keep your head tilted down, wanting some kind of relief but feeling unable to think straight. “Bloody migraine…” Marc nods. You’ve had migraines before and he’s been with you during them, not as much as Jake or Steven have though, and he knows you often try to hide how bad they are. He doesn’t want you to worry about that at all right now, though. 

“I’m sorry, let’s go to bed, baby.” Marc says gently as he guides you to the bed with his hand still on your back and gently rubbing comforting circles that sadly don’t do much to distract you from the throbbing in your head. 

When you get to your bed you start to clumsily strip your clothes off and Marc remembers that you’ll want comfy bed clothes, he pulls a couple of things out of the dresser and hands them to you. Nausea is still a dreadful pit in your stomach and one that’s burning your throat, the grogginess from your head pain clouds your mind and body. You change into the shirt and bottoms about as gracefully as a newborn foal trying to stand up for the first time and walk. 

Marc doesn’t say anything, in a different context your clumsy limbs would be cute but he just hates how unwell you’re feeling. As you crawl into bed, Marc quickly moves around the room to close all the curtains and shield you from as much light as possible, making sure to turn off one of Steven’s reading lamps. 

You bury yourself into the bed and close your eyes, adjusting your head to find the right position that feels the least like your head is heavy and being whacked at the same time. Mumbling a thank you to Marc for closing the curtains but it’s muffled against the soft pillowcase. 

Marc looked over at you and just gave a small nod as he thought of what to do next, he didn’t need to see your face right now to know that it was screwed up in pain. It broke Marc’s heart more than anything for you to be uncomfortable. 

“Meds?” Marc asked, he tried to make his voice quiet but still audible, a balance that wasn’t easy in these moments. 

“Please.” You said, turning your head and it was less muffled and more clear this time as you didn’t have your face quite into the pillow. Your skull was pounding and you felt like shit no matter how you laid or positioned your neck. 

Marc nods and sorts out a cold compress for you and then walks to the medicine cabinet. He opens it with as much stealth he’d use on a mission to try and keep your shared home as quiet as possible and not aggravate your migraine more. Because he thinks it’s just his luck for now to be the moment when a medicine cabinet would decide to be extremely creaky. When it doesn’t make a creak on opening or closing he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

He steps back over to the kitchen to quickly pour a glass of water for you from the sink and walks over to it with some pain relief and your migraine medications in his other hand. You try to sit up and your nose screws up as the nausea hits you again more, you cautiously take the glass and then your medications. It’s difficult to let them dissolve on your tongue or swallow them with nausea, it makes you want to gag. 

“Are you okay?” His beautiful brown eyes widen as he sees your face change and you struggle to swallow the medication. 

“Nausea.” You say after a moment, you have your hand on your stomach and your expression somehow looks just as bad as you feel.

“I’ll uh, I’ll make you some ginger tea…” Marc says as he rubs your shoulder for a moment. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, hands you the cold compress and then walks back to the kitchen. 

“Thanks, darling.” You whisper and slowly try to lie back down, placing the cold compress onto your forehead and rearranging it for comfort. 

He mutters fuck several times when he’s in the kitchen with how loud the kettle is. It’s no louder than it usually is but when the love of your life is in bed with a migraine and nausea, you become more conscious about noise and everything feels louder than it is. 

There’s none of those ginger chew things left that Steven’s brought in the past for you to snack on when feeling ill. It wouldn’t surprise him if Steven had snacked on them with you and finished them off and then forgotten to buy more. But there’s plenty of tea, there always is. So he makes the warm brew before quietly coming back to bed with you. 

You lie in bed as your head continues to thump and each time you look up the room spins and you have to quickly close your eyes again and readjust to find a position that doesn’t aggravate that. 

When he comes back towards you, you hear his soft footsteps and look up at him. You keep a hand on your forehead so that the cold compress stays in place. He hands it to you and you take a slow sip of the warm beverage, it’s warm just like your sweet Marc and it’s all that you can stomach at the moment. You sadly won’t be snacking anytime soon with how bad the nausea is which would make you sad if you didn’t feel sick, there’s some delicious leftovers in the fridge. When you’re done he gently takes it from your hands and places it on the bedside table.

Marc lies on his back and gently wraps an arm around you, testing the waters of how much physical contact you can take right now. After a few moments you lean into the comfort of his body and it’s not long before you’ve closed your eyes and they stay shut as you drift off into a nap to give you some respite from the migraine. 

Three hours later you start to stir, you blink and see Marc’s eyes are closed, his pretty, thick, dark lashes are fanned across his cheeks as he lays there, he’s always been so handsome, painfully so. But you do immediately notice how his arm is awkwardly placed so that he’s been holding the cold compress perfectly against your forehead. It makes you smile in a silly way that overshadows the throb in your head that’s still there. 

With your slight stirring, Marc opens his eyes, he looks into yours for a moment and then turns, he gives you a small quiet smile and just takes in the features of his partner that he loves more than anything. He wants to show up for you like this. 

“How are you feeling?” He whispers after a moment, his eyes are watching each of your perfect features to analyse them to check that you’re not downplaying any symptoms. 

“My head still hurts…” You whisper after a moment and move slightly, worried that you’re maybe giving him a dead arm. 

“I’ll make you another cold compress, yeah? This one won’t be good anymore-” “You don’t need to-” “I want to.” He cuts you off in return, and slowly untangles himself from you with as much care as possible. 

Guilt creeps into you as you watch him leave and when he comes back over with a fresh cold compress you still can’t help but feel bad. That he’s done that and has then also gotten your meds, closed the curtains, made you a warm cup of tea. The fact that he had done all of those without being told to or had offered to do it before he did, you didn’t have to ask once. You felt guilty as he was the supportive partner you weren’t used to and who was doing what he could to make it easier for you. 

“What is it?” He whispers softly with a gentle smile as he places the cold compress back onto your head. He holds your hand gently with his free one, rubbing his fingers over yours, a gesture that comforts him just as much as you, if not more. 

He was always so practical, so good at reading microexpressions. Sometimes you wondered if he’d mastered the whole mind reading art too. 

“You’ve been so good, and I- you just did everything and I feel bad…” You whisper as you try to blink away a throbbing pain but also to keep eye contact with him. 

“No. I don’t want you to feel like that… You don’t need to feel bad about this. It’s not- you just- you deserve someone who will do the bare minimum of closing curtains, making ginger tea and doing the dishes for you.” 

“Marc…” You swallow air for a second as you feel overwhelmed by the sweetness and love in those words. “I-” 

Before you even have the chance to say something self-deprecating - Marc doesn’t want you to insult yourself right now or ever - he cuts you off by lightly putting his hand over your mouth playfully. It’s a playfulness you’d expect more from Jake, it’s a bolder and more silly move from Marc that makes you chuckle. One that just speaks to how comfortable and happy he is with you. 

“Don’t even try to argue with me, or to put yourself down.” You smile at Marc’s sweet words and you can’t help but try to cuddle into him more. Something he happily indulges and moves his body however you want or need for you to cuddle happily and comfortably into him. 

His arms are wrapped around you as you lean into his gentle touch. Marc places a light kiss to your forehead and smiles as you two spend the rest of the day in bed tangled up in a migraine made mess.

It’s part of your daily life. Bruising easily and never quite remembering how it happens and only noticing when you’re about to shower or when one of the boys would gently hold a limb of yours with a furrowed brow, asking how you got that or if you’re okay. Each of them has their own unique way of responding. There were different mobility aids littered all around the house. The canes, rollators, types of braces for pretty much every part of your body added to the organised chaos of the home you shared.

You’d dislocated and broken many of your joints and had falls relating to them, general clumsiness, migraines throughout your life. Your body wasn’t always cooperative, especially not at times when it would be convenient and appreciated. But a dislocation or fracture was never really convenient, was it? 

It was a laundry afternoon so you’re folding up laundry in the bedroom and putting it away. You don’t do anything that defies gravity or is unusual in any way, you just take a step and like every other time it’s happened before to some joint or bone, it’s the wrong step, the wrong movement. There’s nothing different you could’ve done at all. 

“Fuck!” You curse and cry out as you feel your ankle dislocate and it makes you fall down onto the ground and cry out. 

It’s happened before and you knew it would happen again. But it still fucking hurt. It never made it hurt any less, no matter how many times it happens. 

Tears start to dampen your cheeks and you blink back tears while trying to bring yourself up to a sitting position and to move your leg but it just causes the pain to radiate more in your leg and you cry out again with another curse. 

Marc immediately heard the first curse and had already started to make his way over to the bedroom but when he heard the second curse he came over even quicker, completely set off and concerned. He sees you on the floor and immediately gets onto his knees at your side, holding your hand. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” His beautiful brown eyes widen and he watches your face closely, trying to pick up on any and every microexpression as he gently rubs your hand. 

“M-my an-ankle…” You let out a couple of sobs and bite your lip to stop anymore coming out as more tears roll down, you hate it and wish that wasn’t the case. 

“Your ankle? Just walking? Feeling like a dislocation or break?” He asks as he uses one hand to get his phone out of his pocket. 

You know where this is going already and you don’t like it. Not a bit. You’re grateful he cares, so fucking grateful for it. But you didn’t like going to hospitals and that was the last place you wanted to be right now. 

Past visits you’d been accused of attention and or drug seeking, been dismissed with a wave of a doctor’s hand and often some medical misogyny and other isms you weren’t in the mood for right now. You did not have enough capacity for that, just for the horrendous pain you’re in, that’s all you could really think about. You’re about to tell Marc that you can just try setting it yourself or he could help if he wanted to. 

“We can just set it-” You say and Marc just looks at you. His eyes widened in shock that you’d even suggest that as something you could and should do. You can see his jaw clench as his brain short circuits for a few seconds before his emergency training kicks back in. 

“No! Hospital now!” His dark eyebrows shoot up as he interrupts you before you can even finish that sentence. He says hospital even though you both know if he was in your shoes, he’d have tried setting it himself. He wouldn’t even have bothered to look up a Youtube video for help. 

“But-” You sharply suck in some air and squeeze your eyes shut tightly as the pain hits you more. 

“No buts, they need to do X-Rays and look at it.” He says with a somewhat bewildered expression on his face. 

The pain is miserable but you’re doing your best to try masking it. You can’t argue with him though and at least if you go to hospital they might give some decent medications to help with the pain at least. There was no arguing with Marc or really any of them, so you should nod as you grit your teeth. 

Marc helps you up and takes you to the hospital. As soon as you’re at the entrance of the hospital he helps you into a wheelchair and offers to do all the heavy lifting of signing in as you wait in the waiting room. You eagerly accept the offer, nodding frantically as the pain shoots up and you feel light headed. 

It was a Tuesday evening and these waiting rooms were always busy, you didn’t want to cause a scene. You already felt worried that if you spoke or even thought too much you’d open your mouth and wouldn’t be able to suppress a cry. It’s okay to lean on Marc, right now you try to remind yourself while taking a deep breath.

Everything moves slowly, just as it always does. You’re eventually triaged by a nurse who is sympathetic but after more waiting, the strongest medication you’re offered is advil. You groan not just because of the pain but also because of that and Marc puts a hand up to his face to roll his eyes, he takes a deep breath and counts to five, telling himself he won’t snap at the nurse who isn’t in a position of power here. 

Time continues to move slowly in the hospital. An X-ray is ordered and it doesn’t take long for them to tell you that you’ve dislocated your ankle, something that isn’t shocking news at all, especially to you. Marc advocates for you with every nurse and doctor, especially one of the junior doctors who rolled his eyes when you confirmed your previous EDS diagnosis and your history of fractures and dislocations. If you weren’t in so much pain and feeling so infuriated by the medical system you probably would’ve found this sight of Marc hot right now. 

You’re given anaesthesia and pain medications to help take you to some other realm while they set your ankle. You gasp and hold your breath as Marc holds your hand. Squeezing it, you’re not sure who is squeezing the other one harder, you’re feeling a bit out of it but you can tell he’s anxious. His palms are warm and clammy. 

Eventually, after what feels like forever. You’re discharged with a wrapped up ankle that looks more than sexy and a prescription of strong pain medication that Marc made sure you got and ran to pick up before taking you home. 

It’s been hours and you’re now out of the fluorescent light bug zone. Daylight is starting to break as the sky shifts to a paler blue and street lights are turned off. The world is starting to wake up again when you and Marc haven’t even had the chance to lie down and close your eyes. 

It’s a quiet ride home, you’re tired and can feel it in your bones but you can’t quite doze off yet. The discomfort won’t let you but it doesn’t stop you from yawning. 

When you finally get back to your sweet little home, Marc keeps his arms close to you, supporting you as you both make your way to bed. He helps you transfer into the bed, and he adjusts the pillows behind your back for you to be more comfortable and then moves to help keep your covered ankle elevated in bed. 

He then gently moves onto the other side of the bed, careful to not disrupt you or move the bed too much with his movement. Scratching his jaw with one hand as he lays down and looks at his phone, checking the time and then setting an alarm for a few hours when you’ll be able to take more pain medication. 

Neither of you have slept, you feel sore, uncomfortable, exhausted and as some early morning sunlight starts to peek through the edge of the curtains you can’t help but see the exhaustion etched into his face too. You reach a hand out to gently caress his cheek, feeling the five o’clock shadow and he closes his eyes and gently inhales at the feeling of your soft touch. He shifts in bed to lay on his side and face you. 

“Thank you.” You whisper to him. You’re not sure if he’ll ever be able to understand how much you appreciate him, especially in times like this, you haven’t always had people in your corner for you to lean on or to help be another voice in the room to advocate for and stand with you. 

“Don’t, no. Just don’t ever think about setting something ever again.” He tiredly whispers as you keep caressing his face and it makes you smile a little. “Hmm, let’s try a nap before the next alarm goes off?” 

“Yeah.” You whisper with a smile and run your finger over his perfect lips and then tiredly watch him before the drowsiness of the medications kicks in and you have the most broken and shortest sleep you’ve ever had in your life. 

When you’ve finally drifted off, Marc blinks tiredly noticing the absence of your gentle hand and looks at your face for a moment. He feels grateful to have the most beautiful woman he knows as his partner, to have you in his bed and it warms him up at the fact that he can show up for you. That you let him, that you trust him to do that. 

It’s not something he’s used to and it feels easy with you, so easy and right. Something he can even see and appreciate while feeling so tired and having had a long night, only makes it more true he thinks. Marc smiles softly and leans closer to you as quietly and softly as possible, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before he lies back down at your side and drifts off. 

You’d spent the morning working from home, well working from bed. But isn’t that what everyone did when they sent a message to say they’d be working from home? They’d then just quickly brush their hair and put a shirt on when a Teams call came through, pajama bottoms conveniently out of frame. 

While others were in the office or at a home desk you were stretched out in bed with your laptop on you, throughout the day you’d started to recline back more in bed until you were almost fully lying down, you’d been consistently sipping on your water bottle but you still felt like it wasn’t making much of a difference. Your head was plagued with dizziness.  

Jake had been out for most of the morning, he’d left for work well before you’d woken up but he was now home. You’d heard him in the kitchen and he was now quietly tinkering around. Jake was good at moving around silently and giving you no distractions when you worked remotely. Something that was good and bad, it made it harder to procrastinate on the clock. 

With a sigh, you reach your hand into the nightstand and pull out a pair of compression socks, knowing that’ll help with your heart rate at least. You shouldn’t be surprised that you were feeling rough today, yesterday had been a busy day with lots of moving around. After long days with lots of moving and standing around, the following days would be rough and you’d end up in a POTS flare up, needing to spend what felt like was at least triple it just to recover and be a bit more human.. 

After a while you start to sit up, blinking as you wait for the room to feel less like it's spinning before you try to stand up. You walk slowly with the rollator, walking closer to the wall to create a sense of bracing yourself against it. You keep taking small and slow steps while holding onto the rollator handles, having to pause often.  

Jake’s head turns to look at you as he hears the soft sound of the rollator and your footsteps come into the living area, his brow furrows and his eyebrows drop almost comically low. He immediately notices you’re not feeling well, he can hear and see it in each of your little, cautious, measured steps.  “Amor?” He steps closer. 

“Just a little dizzy and…I’m just walking to the couch.” You sigh and Jake nods. 

“Yeah, have you had your meds?” He asks and you nod as he walks alongside you with a hand on the middle of your back and watches you as you walk over to the couch and then sit down. “Just sit and rest, I’ll-I’ll get you some water.” 

“I can-” 

“No, stay there.” He says before you can even say anything, you sigh and close your eyes as you rest your head against the cushion again. He watches you and then walks over to the kitchen counter. 

He was an extremely protective man, he always took your POTS episodes very seriously while he hated seeing you faint and at times injure yourself, he always somehow handled it perfectly. He knew exactly what to do and immediately went into protective, supportive partner mode. You were sure he kept a mental checklist of all the things to do. 

Jake moved around, watching you every few seconds to see if you were still conscious and the look on your face. He was fiercely protective and he took his role of supporting you during flare ups, very seriously. He brings the fan over and puts it right next to your face as you lie on the couch. It’s more in your face and you tilt your head to look at him. 

In the kitchen, Jake opens a cupboard to get your electrolyte sachets out and a large water bottle. He fills the bottle up with cold water, adding a couple of the flavoured electrolyte sachets and stirring them in, he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Alive, amor?” He calls out as his eyes watch your still figure. 

“Yes…” You say as the room spins. He smiles as you chuckle and then screws the lid onto the water bottle. 

Jake comes over with the water bottle and hands it to you, you take a generous sip, immediately picking up that he’d used your favourite flavour of the electrolyte sachets. The flavouring somehow takes away from the usual powderiness of most sachet drinks that make you want to gag. 

“Thank you, Jake.” You offer him an appreciative smile and he gives you a charming wink. 

“Fan?” He asks even though he’s already carried it to stand near your face and by the time you’ve said yes please he’s already plugged it in. You let out a small chuckle at that and adjust slightly to better face the fan in the most comfortable position. 

“If it’s not too much, could I have a cucumber-” “The usual? Yes.” He chuckles, shaking his head and you nod. Jake watches your cute smile and presses a kiss to your forehead and then goes to the kitchen to open the fridge. 

Jake prepares your signature cucumber with salt POTS recovery snack. He thinks about your other go-to POTS snacks and pick-me-ups, picking everything out of the fridge and cupboard that he knows is high in sodium and not something you’ll find nauseating. He’s an expert now after all, he’s taken his role of the supportive partner of the most gorgeous human seriously. 

“There we go, mi vida.” He says as he hands you your holy grail salted cucumber and assortment of other snacks. The lightheadedness and brain fog still cloud over your body but as you look at the platter he’s made, you smile at how thoughtful and practical he is. 

“Why not just a pickle, why not ever a pickle, cariño?” He asked as he sat down on the couch next to you. Jake gently rubbed your knee as you leaned against him and he watched you nibble on the cucumber with salt. 

“I mean… If you’re offering, I would never say no to pickles.” You reply after swallowing a bite of the salty cucumber, it was the perfect POTS snack. A hill you’d die on. 

“You want me to get you some?” He asks with a chuckle and a big, perfect, goofy smile on his face that warms your fatigued heart up. 

“I’m okay for now, stay, sit with me, please? Thank you though.” You smile and squeeze his warm hand gently as you take another bite of the cucumber and he smiles adoringly.

Jake nods and slowly lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your hand. He spends the rest of the day with you, sitting with you, happily running around for you and trying to constantly pamper you and have you drink what feels like a million electrolyte sachets worth of water. 

It’s a quiet day in the Vogelweide drawing room. Anselm is leaning back in his chair, his braced leg stretched out straight. There’s a slight coldness in his dark eyes as he’s lost in thought looking out the window but they soften as they land on you. His sweet love, your presence always warms his heart right back up, even on the iciest of winter days. 

You’d been sitting across from him, quietly reading. It was a nice day for that and you always appreciated a physical book and a good day for reading. But you kept finding yourself lost with the words rather than lost in them. It was becoming nauseating to try and focus on the letters blurring together and shaking on the page. It had been like this for a while now and you’d reread the same paragraph at least eleven times because of it. You couldn’t keep going like this, you’d just make yourself feel more sick. 

After a sigh you go over to the tall, floor to ceiling bookshelves that decorate the whole wall behind you. The shelves are lined with titles of all genres and different editions across decades. It’s just the drawing room of Anselm’s sprawling estate, it’s not even the official ‘library’ on the next floor but it’s still so swoon-worthy and always makes you feel like you’re Belle living in some Beauty of the Beast library-esque dream. 

The temperature in the room feels to be rising despite being so cool before and throughout the rest of the rooms. You can feel yourself starting to grow ill, your fingers push the book back onto the shelf a little shakily and you try to quickly move away from the shelf so you can sit down somewhere cushioned to help break a fall and prevent an injury. 

But before you get the chance to, your vision and control of your body has gone out and you collapse, dropping to the floor. The noise of your fall makes Anselm’s head snap to you and his eyes widen. 

“Oh, my sweet beloved…” Anselm says, concern ringing through his accent as he stands up and quickly walks over to where you are on the floor, his brace softly clacks as he waves a hand dismissively to a couple of his henchmen who had been sitting in the room with you both. 

They nod and quickly leave the room, one of them will go off to get one of the first aid kits and one of Anselm’s cousins who conveniently has some medical training. It’s not the first time you’ve collapsed and it unfortunately, is highly unlikely to be the last. It’s never nice when it happens and while Anselm has a flair for the melodrama, he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He knows that it’s important for you to have privacy and dignity in these moments and it’s the very least of what you deserve. 

Anselm lowers himself down onto the floor, something he wouldn’t usually do but it isn’t even a thought when it comes to you. It’s a natural response, of course he’d lower himself onto the floor for you. This floor conveniently has lavish, imported rugs but he’d kneel in mud for you. 

Anselm gently adjusts you to your side and checks your airways, he makes sure that your breathing is okay and he tries to find your pulse. He won’t admit it but he’s not very good at checking pulses, just knowing when they’ve stopped. Your pulse seems steady but his cousin will double check that of course. He strips his blazer off and balls it up to be a small cushion for your head. 

After a couple of moments that feel too long and Anselm has spent them rubbing your back. 

Your head was spinning and your mind felt foggy, you’d had a headache before you collapsed so in hindsight you felt like you should’ve known that you were going to pass out. But you’d thought it was just that, a headache and you’d had plenty without collapsing before too. You felt like your head had been whacked with a sledgehammer. 

“Oh darling, how are you?” Anselm asks, his hand rubbing a gentle circle onto your back. 

“Gr-groggy.” You whisper and blink, your face scrunching up. Anselm sighs sadly and hums in acknowledgement. 

“Let’s get you some water and check on you, make sure that pretty head of yours isn’t concussed.” He says concussed like con-tussed. And you hear him call out to the corridor as you give a slight nod. 

His cousin Anton quietly comes in with the first aid kit, it’s something that you’re used to now. You try to slowly sit up and Anselm quickly moves so that you can use him as a support to lean on behind you if you need it. 

Anton flashes the tiny torch in your eyes, asks the questions that feel silly like “where are you?” “Do you remember my name?” questions that you tiredly answer and Anton checks your blood pressure and confirms that it’s unsurprisingly sitting on the lower side right now but that you fortunately don’t have a concussion at least. 

A glass of cool water is poured for you and as you wrap a shaky hand around it, Anselm wraps one of his hands around the glass to steady your grip and support you as you lift it to your lips. You close your eyes as you take a sip of the cool liquid and feel it go down your throat. 

“Yes, just some more sips, we need to replenish that magnificent mind and body of yours.” Anselm says softly and it makes you smile even in your woozy state. 

Anselm keeps the glass up but never keeps it up to the point that it spills and dribbles. You lean against him and keep sipping, feeling it slowly make a slight difference as you rehydrate. 

“Let’s get you to bed and have a feast. Sugar, carbs, salt- all the things you need.” He says and presses a kiss to the top of your head. You’re too tired to try arguing with him, the cosy, plush bed sounds like heaven right now. Especially after having been on the polished wood floors and rugs. 

After helping you slowly up, Anselm and Anton gently help you up, taking things extremely slowly and guide you to bed. There’s still a headache and a slight ache throughout your body, it makes you feel disoriented and so it feels like it’s just a weary blink in a dream before you’re on the soft, gargantuan bed and Anselm is cocooning you in the cosy blankets. 

Anselm begins to undo his brace and then joins you, he sits at your side and caresses your forehead gently with his thumb as he watches your face, taking in each perfect feature that makes up your face. He wants the estate to be filled with art of you. 

You let out a contented hum as you feel his fingers on you and then after a few moments you try to move and slowly get up. 

“No, you mustn’t move now.” He says in a matter of fact tone as he watches you try to sit up. 

“I can’t spend all day doing nothing.” You mutter with a sigh as you rub your forehead, collecting yourself and trying to blink your eyes back into focus. 

“You’re not doing nothing.” Anselm blinks as if what you’ve said is ludircous. “You are resting and that is most important, my sweet. It is not nothing.” Anselm says and then he takes your hand, gently lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. His grey, perfectly trimmed beard tickles against your hand and it makes you smile,  a small chuckle comes out and it just makes his face light up even more as he lets his lips linger against you. 

“I feel like all I do is rest.” You whisper as you watch his eyes and try to lean more against the headboard for support. 

“You do not wish to rest?” He asks as he adjusts himself to sit right at your side, completely touching in a parallel line as he adjusts his sore leg to be more comfortable. 

You sigh and rub your forehead again as you stretch your muscles a little and then move to cross your legs, a trick you’d learnt a lifetime ago to help prevent more collapsing episodes. Anselm adjusts the blankets over you. 

“I’m starting to get tired of resting.” You say, tilting your head slightly to look at his handsome face. 

“Most people are tired for rest, not of it, my peculiar lover.” Anselm says with a smile, he takes one of your hands into both of his and caresses it gently. His hands are warm, a cosy, comforting temperature that makes you smile and warms up not just your hands but also your soul. “But if you wish to take a break from resting, you are not sitting in bed and resting.” He smirks. 

“I’m not?” You can’t help but give a tired smile at the sight of his smirk. 

“No, you are keeping me company in bed, looking after me as my leg aches. And you’re modelling. You’re being the perfect model just sitting there and looking so magnificent, it’s not an easy task to do and well my love, you do it so well.” Anselm smirks and you tiredly chuckle, leaning into him more. 

“You’re such a character.” You whisper. 

“I have heard that before but it’s praise coming from your lips. Now, take a nap while you’re modelling and keeping me company and not resting.” He says as he brings your hand up to his lips once again. You cuddle into Anselm and spend the rest of the day keeping him company, but you’ll keep your lips sealed on if there was an overlap of that with napping.