Subtle Beauty - 7. Chapter 7

Groggy and disoriented, Mich’s sleeping form on a chair—my chair in my room—greeted me when I opened my eyes. How did I come to be here? I tried to remember what had happened, but stopped when the room swirled. Bad idea, Coop.

My hand made contact with a damp towel when I placed it on my forehead. Ok, how did that get there? Why would I go to sleep with this on my head? I grabbed what I could of the towel and hung it on the bedpost.

Focusing my attention on Mich again, I studied his handsome face, my cheeks warming up as I did. It was the first time I looked at him, at his beauty, without any discomfort on his part. As if he has any choice, he’s asleep. There had been times, a lot, when my stare lingered and he would blush, avert his eyes or pretend to be busy with something else. I quietly sighed, knowing the man of my dreams would remain that way. Just a dream.

‘Why is he here?’ I asked myself. He appeared uncomfortable, his head leaned at an odd angle against his shoulder, and one leg draped over the arm of the chair. I felt guilty at my comfortable position on the bed. Slowly, I slipped out from under the blanket—a blanket at this time of year?—and gently shook Mich.

He awoke with a start, and his eyes widened when he saw me. “What the fuck are you doing out of bed?”

The intensity of his voice startled me as I gazed at his disbelieving face. Did I do something wrong? His reaction saddened me, and his face faltered when he noticed my downcast expression.

“I’m sorry, Coop.” The guilt in his eyes was unmistakable. “I would really appreciate it if you went back to your bed.”

Without a word, I did what he said, avoiding his gaze. Sighing, he pulled the blanket up to my chin and I was surprised that being covered didn’t bother me. It lessened the chills.

“What’s wrong with me?” I voiced my confusion. He didn’t answer right away, merely reached for the towel and left the room. When he came back, he placed the towel on my forehead without asking for permission.

“You collapsed in the laundromat...” remember? He left it unsaid, but I heard it in my head almost as if he actually spoke the word. The wariness in his eyes unsettled me. Is he afraid I might be losing my mind?

“Oh.” What a perfect way to express myself. If I didn’t feel so weak, I would have done something by now. Like bang my head against the wall, for instance.

I collapsed? “Yeah, I remember.”

Mich clearly didn’t believe me, but he chose not to say anything about it. “You want to eat something?”

Now you’re talking. “I cooked some,” please, anything but—“soup for you.” Never mind then, “Let me just heat it up and I’ll bring you a bowl.” I’d rather have food not meant for sick people, but I guess soup was better than nothing.

When Mich left, I peeked inside the blanket. I was definitely not wearing these clothes yesterday. With my heart beating fast, I lowered my jogging pants and groaned. Great, fresh underwear. Can I die now, please?

Mich was back in the room without even bothering to knock. Good thing the blanket hid my body or he would have caught me with my jogging pants down. Why did it matter anyway? He’d already seen... everything. Thinking about that made me blush.

“My god, Coop, you’re heating up again.” He put the tray he carried on my study table and took my temperature using a digital thermometer. The relief was evident on his face after reading the result.

“Your temperature used to be a hundred and one fahrenheit,” he said, trying to explain his momentary panic.

I got distracted from thinking about how sick I was when Mich pushed the chair closer to my bed and sat down on it with the bowl on his hand. While stirring, he blew on it and the smell of chicken soup wafted to me. He wouldn’t dare feed me, would he?

To my horror, I saw him stir the bowl for the last time and got a spoonful of soup. A small smile appeared on his lips as he offered it to me. What should I do?

“Mich,” his smile wavered for a bit, “I can feed myself.”

An awkward silence followed. Hoping that I wasn’t offending him, I took hold of the spoon and bowl. He resisted for only a moment.

Sipping directly from the bowl while he looked on, I realized how hungry I was. In a matter of minutes, I spooned for the last remaining chicken and vegetables and ate them up with gusto.

“Um,” I offered the bowl to him, “can I have more please?”

Mich didn’t speak, or perhaps he couldn’t due to astonishment. His mouth was partially opened and his eyes were rounded as he took the bowl.

“If I didn’t see it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it possible.” Our eyes met and we laughed. Beats me why I did, he thinks I eat like a pig. It just felt right somehow.

“Here,” the bowl was offered back to me, “I think you’re well enough to get yourself some more.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

Before I left the room, I witnessed him collapse on the chair, the worry dissipating from his face.

It took me a while to realize what was wrong with my living room and kitchen in one; it’s clean. How long was I out of it, exactly? Shaking my head, I filled my bowl and took another from the dish rack. Laden with bowls, I made for my room. This might have worked, if I didn’t close the door behind me or if I had grabbed the tray on my way out. Now what?

As I didn’t have any choice, I used my foot to knock on the door.

The door opened and Mich’s frown came into view. As he took notice of the bowls in each of my hands, he smiled and said, “Serves you right for being so greedy. One’s not enough?”

Scowling, I entered the room and placed a bowl on the tray, the other one I took with me to the bed.

“That one’s yours.” With some satisfaction, I saw his face fall.

“You shouldn’t have bothered.”

“Well, I just did.” I grinned at him. “Also, a sick personal nurse is of no use to me. You do know you look like hell, right?” He could definitely use a good night’s sleep, not that it made him less attractive to me.

“Thanks,” he said as he stirred the bowl absent-mindedly.

“Don’t worry, that one’s clean. I’m sure of it.” I showed him the bowl I was eating from. “This was the one I used before.”

“It’s not that. I’m just... tired.” Instantly, I noticed his sluggish movements and the way his eyelids seemed to droop.

As I finished my soup, I sprang from the bed, shoving the pillow and blanket to the floor. Mich looked on with mild interest as I changed the bed sheet and took an extra pillow and blanket from the closet.

“There you go.” A dumbfounded Mich stared at me.

“What are you waiting for? The bed’s all ready for you.” When he didn’t stir after a while, I gave him an encouraging smile.

“You need the rest more than I do.” His last words got distorted by a yawn.

“Uh huh.” Without any resistance, I helped him to his feet and led him to the bed.

“I’ll just have a quick nap.” His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow. “Sorry, Coop.”

“For what?” I whispered.

His answer was simple. “You’re sick.”

“I’m fine now, Mich, thanks to you. Just go to sleep, ok?”

“Just for a while.” He became still, the only sound was his breathing. I finally relaxed when light snoring emanated from him.

You did your part, now it’s my turn. I draped the blanket over him, up to his waist, in case he became cold. The battle on whether to change his clothes raged within me for only a couple of minutes. Don’t even go there, Coop. When I left the room, I took the bowls and tray with me.

My gaze lingered on Mich’s half-full bowl. He’s fast asleep. To confirm this, I turned to stare at the bedroom door which remained shut. Smiling, I ate a spoonful. And another. And another until nothing was left. I was about to lick the spoon clean when I thought about Mich using the same spoon earlier. My smile turned mischievous as I put it inside my mouth, relishing the remaining soup taste as well as that of Mich. After washing the used dishes, I put them in the rack to dry, the spoon and bowl used by Mich slightly separated from the rest.

Ringing alarmed me as I opened the bedroom door to check up on Mich. He slept on, unmindful of the noise. Quietly, I got my phone and closed the door behind me.

“Hi, Vern. What’s up?”

“Why are you whispering?”

Because I don’t want to wake up Mich who’s sleeping on my bed. “Nothing. So, um, why did you call?”

“No reason really,” she whispered with sarcasm. “You just skipped school. Again. That’s all.”

“What are you talking about? Today’s Sunday. We don’t have school on Sundays.” Really, Vern, you thought I was that naive to fall for cheap tricks like this?

“Well, genius, today’s Monday.”

“Oh.” I lost a whole day without realizing it? No wonder Mich was tired.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself? Oh?”

“I was sick.” Way sick, it seemed.

A pause. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah, um, Mich took care of me.”

The line suddenly went silent. “Vern? Are you still there?”

“I’m still here, Coop, and I’m glad you’re ok now. But I have to go.”

“Ok, bye. Thanks for calling.”

She hung up.

********************

After a few hours, I went inside the bedroom. Mich was sound asleep, so I dined alone earlier. I made a makeshift bed out of the used bed sheet on the floor and laid there for a while thinking. My thoughts revolved around Mich mostly. Just as I was about to fall asleep, he stirred on the bed.

“Coop, are you there?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

“I’m here.” As I waited for him to speak, I stared at the ceiling.

“Thanks for lending me your bed.” I felt him move to his side to look at me, but I kept my gaze above.

“It’s the least I could do. You even skipped school for me.” A simple ‘thank you’ didn’t feel appropriate for what he’d done. I’d make it up to him somehow.

“I was so worried, I didn’t know what to do when you collapsed. You looked so...” lifeless? Regret coursed through me for making him worry. Without being told, I knew how concerned he was for me. I could feel it. Saw it earlier on his face.

“Sorry for making you worry. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to your promise.” There was no doubt about it, I knew he would for sure.

I moved on my side with my back to him, ready to go to sleep.

“I care for you, Coop.” His tone quickened the pace of my heartbeat. The moment had a surreal feel in it. “I care for you so much.”

Am I dreaming? But I couldn’t be, I’m still awake.

“You’re like a brother to me,” he added.

Of course. What did I expect him to say? “Thanks, Mich. Can we go to sleep now? We still have school tomorrow.”

In spite of being in the same room with Mich, I felt so alone.