Continued from here"Cordelia, sit back," I said, looking at her out of the corner of my eye as we pulled onto the freeway, headed home. "We didn't know, and you're not going to die
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Good bloody lord, this was hard. I wanted to scream to get Angel to understand me. I wanted to force myself to get my mouth moving, to get my voice under control. to get my sodding body, under control. But as it was, there was no control. Oh, and there was pain. A lot of it, currently racing though my body, my veins. Just grit ones teeth and it'll go away on its one. Either that or it'll become bearable.
But I was used to that. Not, mind you, at this extend. Nor on a daily basis. But in our line of work getting bruises or scraped or your occasional, flesh wound was nothing to get exited about. I've never been poisoned or paralyzed though. It wasn't an experience I cared to have again. Ever. Never. It was humiliating. Being picked up from the showerfloor, naked and not being able to move.
Resigned, I waited for the wave of pain to take it's course. It would go away, eventually. Angel finally got a clue as well and helped me to hold the damn pen. "Fine," I muttered, mustering up a small smile for him. "'M fine. Paper?" He gave me an uncertain look, and yes, there was that guilt flashing up again. "Stop...that," I grated out. "Not...your fault." Good lord, I wish he could see that.
Shaking my head, or well, I would've had I been able to move it. I concentrated on the pen. I nudged it to the right, Angel moving it for me. Wearily I watched the ink appear on the paper and end up in a crude barely recognizable word. The name of the demon. My eyes flicked up at Angel as I gave him a hopeful look. At this point we'd be lucky if he could actually read this.
Taking his hand, I ignored him as I pushed the pen in the direction that Wes indicated with little movements in his hand. Looking at him as we wrote, I replied, "I know it's not my fault..."
When we were finished, I looked at the piece of paper, back up to Wesley. "Okay, so it was a Hleid demon?" I ignored the stupidity of that question even as I reached for a book. Obviously it would be the name of the demon... I was pretty sure Wes didn't just write down obscure names for no reason.
Flipping open a book, I paged through, looking for the information that we needed. I stopped, almost dropping the book when I came across a realistic drawing of the demon we had seen in the sewer. Holding the book up to Wesley, I announced, "Found it..."
I read over the page, then glanced at Wesley. "It says that the demon paralyzes its victims, then kills them... usually goes for women," I said, frowning. We already knew this much at least... "And it says that the paralyzation, when the victim isn't killed, usually wears off in 4 to 6 hours" I looked up at Wesley, frowning again. It had only been maybe 20 minutes since he had been paralyzed yet. At least we knew that the demon hadn't paralyzed the other two, which I kept thinking was a plus.
"But you'll be fine," I added after an awkward moment. "I mean, in a few hours..." I gripped his shoulder slightly, then put the book aside. This was going to be a long night... but I wasn't going to just leave him here alone. I needed to make sure that he would keep breathing, and that he would be okay.
Oh yes, he and I? We were going to have a long talk once this was over. A very long talk. Seriously, one can only take the guilt thing so far. He'd blame himself for the bloody sun being in the sky during the day. Or rain to fall when it rains. I might actually resort to hitting him over the head if needed. Unfortunately, I can't do that now. Which frustrates me to no end.
He helped me write down the name of the bloody demon and by the time we were done I was exhausted. It was only a few minutes work perhaps, but I felt as though I'd been running a triple marathon. Closing my eyes, I kept concentrating on breathing. For some reason that was hard. I just hoped that demon's poison didn't paralyze ones respirator system as well. Or any other organs.
While I heard Angel page through the books, I tried very much to ignore the fact that I was in Angel's bed. Fresh from the shower. Without clothes. I'd be mortified if my body would let me. One pluspoint in this whole ordeal is that I can't blush. At least, I don't think so. I can, however, get cold. Or so it seemed. Angel didn't need much blankets, of any, of course. But I was still wet from the shower, and the sheets were wet as well now.
Then Angel's voice registers. I pry my eyes open with some effort and squint at the book he holds up. "...Yes. T-that's it." Wel, thank god. That was faster then I thought it would be. Then again, I've no idea how long I've been laying here. I listen as he explains the details of this demon and now. Or, try to nod, it's not actually working. Mustering up a small smile, I look back at him while concentrating on breathing. "Told you," I whispered.
I just raised an eyebrow at him, as he smiled at me, before smiling slightly myself. "Yeah, you did," I agreed, before I looked more closely at Wesley. He still wasn't looking too good, and he looked almost like he was going to start shivering.
"Are you cold?" I asked, then remembered that he couldn't nod, or talk very much... I ran a hand through my hair, and got up, moving over to the closet and grabbing a heavier blanket. I didn't use the blankets myself, but I had always kept some on hand, in case any of the others had needed something when they had stayed the night.
I draped the blanket over the bed, covering Wes, before smoothing it slightly, uncertain. I sat back down on the edge of the bed cautiously, and asked quietly, "So, um, do you need anything?"
Even as I asked, my eyes widened as I realized how dumb I was. Even if he was hungry or thirsty, how was he supposed to eat or drink? I would have to do it for him, and I figured that he in no way, shape or form, would want anything to do with that.
Well, look at that. I manged to get a small smile out of him. And if we consider the situation, I call that a great victory. Still, it's more then a little embarrassing. This situation that is. I'm very glad Angel is to busy worry- No, no, I'm not. I'm not glad that he's worrying at all. I'm just glad he chooses not to dwell on the embarrassment of the situation.
Blinking slowly, I watch him as he looked thoughtful for a moment. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't cold and he shouldn't bother. But the fact states that I was starting to get cold. Besides, I can't get my voice and mouth to work fast enough. He's already gone, returning with blanket. I mouth a 'thank you' not even managing to get my voice to work this time.
Feeling another muscle spasm shoot up my leg, I grit my teeth and close my eyes briefly. They open again when Angel asks if I need anything. Movement might be nice, but I doubt that's what he meant. But since I can't eat or drink or do *anything* other then lay here, I'm going to have to decline. I'll not have him bothering with me more. Or embarrass myself, and him, further. "I'm fine," I manage to whisper,trying to ball my hands into fists, or move my leg a little. Bugger, not even that works.
"'m sorry...to be...such a-a...bother." this is ludicrous, even that small sentence has exhausted me.
I watched, slightly alarmed as his eyes closed in pain, and his jaw clenched. I looked at him, then said, startled, "You're not a bother, Wes. I mean... you'd be doing the same if it was me, or any of the others. Besides, we're friends- this is... what we do. Right?"
My fingers running idly over the bedspread, I fell silent for a moment, then looked down at my hands. I wasn't sure what to say next, or what to talk about; we knew what was going on, for the most part, we knew that Wes would be fine, and... I wasn't really much for the small conversation thing in the first place.
"Not a bother," I finally repeated, for lack of anything better to say. Then, opening my mouth again, I asked, "So, I guess it's a good thing that you stayed here, long enough to shower anyway, huh? I mean, it would have been really bad if this had happened while you were alone or something." I shrugged slightly, then my eyes widened slightly, as I realized just how easily this could have happened while he was home alone.
Of course I'd do the same for the others, and for Angel. And not just because I'm the boss. But because I know what it's like to be sick and on ones own. The others always had someone. Gunn's sister and crew. Cordelia's parents and friends. There had been the cook for me, or no one once I went to school and beyond. They couldn't be bothered. And now I've become a bother after all.
No matter what Angel says.
He probably had no idea how embarrassing this all is. He found me naked under the shower. Now, of course one is usually naked under the shower, but one doesn't usually get paralyzed there. And now I'm butt bare naked, in his bed. And I can't move. Can hardly breathe. And it hurts. Prying my eyes open at Angel's words, I give him a tired look, hoping to hide the pain in them.
"I...Guess so," I manage to say after a while. God, my throat feels as though it's made out of sandpaper. And I need to cough. But I can't even manage that. It's just... It doesn't work. "Angel," I whisper, making every effort to move my leg a little. "Hurts." Good lord, even that little action leaves me without much breath.
I turned around on the edge of the bed slightly so I could face him better, and laid a hand on his shoulder. I squeezed gently, and awkwardly muttered, "I know... what do you want me to do?"
I looked at him, and frowned when I saw the pain he was trying to hide in his eyes; he was still hurting, but of course he wasn't going to mention it... I gripped his shoulder tighter, and asked, "Tell me what I can do... please?"
I wasn't used to feeling this helpless; I was used to going out and slaying the demon, no questions asked, no hard feelings. But this... this was farther than a demon, this was someone almost dying because I hadn't kept the demon away from him. What good I was, almost getting him killed on my first day out of my room. No wonder I was better off alone.
Except for the part where... I belonged here. I had a reason to be with my friends, something I hadn't had even back in Sunnydale. Back there, I had been more of a danger than a help.
Looking back at Wesley, I looked away slightly, not sure what I was supposed to do. He wasn't shivering anymore, so I guessed he wasn't cold, but he still looked like he was hurting, and I had no idea what to do... wasn't I supposed to be able to help people, not just watch them hurt?
Of course Angel would have no idea what to do. And part of me is angry about that. Two hundred and something years old, and he still doesn't know what to do. And I'm angered by the guilt I can still read in his eyes. I'm even more angered that I can't say anything about it, or even *move*. I'd have hit him over the head by now. It's not always about him. I *chose* to hunt down that demon. I *chose* to fight him. I did not see him holding a gun to my head or something.
If Cordelia were here, she'd probably fuss and hold my hand and ask if I needed anything before forcing some water down my throat. She wouldn't care about any pride. Gunn would probably do the same, but covering it up with some tale about the time he still fought with his crew. Or something other humorous. They wouldn't sit around brooding. Feeling guilty themselves about something that was my fault. I'd have done the same. It's inevitable in our profession and we all know it.
Taking a ragging breath, I let it out slowly again, noticing how shaky it is. This is so damn frustrating. "Stop...that," I grate out, trying to give him a stern look. "Not...your fault. Dammit." Sucking in my breath, I try to move my legs again as another jolt of pain shoots through. Must be to prevent the victim from running off. As though being paralyzed isn't enough. "Legs...hurt." And dear god, instead of ice cold, it's now getting extremely hot? It takes me some effort, but I manage to bring up my hand to push the covers down a bit without much though.
I listened to his shaky breathing, even as my eyes narrowed. It wasn't all my fault, but maybe before I had rushed off to do the killing thing, I could have done something. I don't know, like make sure the demon wouldn't get him all sick. I knew it was his choice, but... he had been trying to help me.
Shaking my head slightly, I ignored it, then looked at him concernedly. "Wes?"
His legs hurt... shit. I picked the book back up, wondering if there was something specific being done to his legs, then threw it aside when I realized I had read everything there, and that unless the book was mystical, it wasn't going to give me new information spontaneously. Looking back at Wes, I was surprised to see that he had shoved the sheets down slightly.
His hand fell away, trembling a bit, and I said suddenly, "I'm gonna get you some water." I stood up, glancing at him, then frowned slightly, saying akwardly, "I guess I don't have to tell you to not go anywhere, huh?" I offered a small smile, hoping I hadn't pissed him off further, as I slipped into the adjoining room and over to the kitchen.
I got a glass and filled it with cold water, then on second thought, threw in a few ice cubes. He had been cold, but if he was pushing the covers down... and weren't you supposed to give people cold water, as compared to hot water? Didn't they like cold water better?
Going back into the room, I set the glass down on the table as I climbed carefully back on the bed, then hesitated slightly. How was I supposed to do this? I said awkwardly, "Okay, so, um, I'm gonna try to help you sit up, okay?"
I started to slip a hand under his shoulders, and I was startled by the sudden heat coming from his skin. This wasn't good... I lifted him up, then muttered, "Sorry if I hurt you..."
I blinked up at him when he called my name. The sound of his voice feeling at though someone had shot a gun near my ears. Squinting I looked at him questionably, but he was to busy browsing through the books again. Book, that one book he found the reference of that demon in. Probably double checking if he missed anything. Or something. Can't think of another reason he'd thumb through it. Can't *think* at all.
Good lord it was hot. Not warm, no *hot*. I heard Angel's voice again and opened my eyes to look at him. A small smile played over my lips when he told me he didn't have to tell me to go anywhere. I mouthed a no, and closed my eyes again. Get me water. Dammit. He'll need to help me with that, I can't even sit up. This whole experience was getting quite humiliating. And annoying. Very annoying.
I just concentrated on breathing and trying to ignore how hot it was in here until Angel came back. Cracking one eye open I squinted at him. He looked a bit blurry. Which had probably to do with the fact that I didn't have my glasses on. Right, needed to get a new pair of those as well. This really is my lucky day. Angel finally comes out of his dark cave and what happens? Stumbling Wesley messes up again.
Managing a nod, a resigned one at that, I patiently waited for him to help me up. For some reason he startled and a small jolt went though me. Clenching my teeth together, I forced in a deep breath and blinked at him. "Is...alright. 'M fine." Just get me that water. Make the pain stop. Make the heat stop. Make me able to move again. Oh, and winning the lottery would be splendid too.
I carefully helped him to get into a sitting position, leaning him up against the headboard of the bed. I took my arm back from behind his shoulders, and reached over to get the glass of water. I pulled it over, then looked back ay Wes.
"Here," I said, unneccesarily. The glass was slightly slippery in my hand, from the condensation, and I brought it over to his mouth. I hesitated again slightly, then held the glass, waiting for him to open his mouth. As I did, I flinched slightly as a drop dripped from the glass, hitting Wesley's bare skin.
"Oops... sorry," I muttered quickly. Because this was the best thing to do, when trying to give your best friend a drink because he's paralyzed and was freezing- drip icy water on his bare skin. That would make him feel better... I tilted the glass toward him slightly, trying to get him to drink a little bit.
Angel helped me into a sitting position, and for once I was glad it was so hot. It certainly did a good job of hiding my blush. This was so embarrassing. And humiliating. Settling back against the headboard, which was nice and cool against the bare skin of my back, I concentrated on breathing again.
I noticed my eyes had closed on their own accord again, when Angel's voice came. It took some effort to open them and look, squint, at Angel. Parting my lips, I tried to drink as much as I could, even though swallowing hurt somewhat. The cool water did sooth my dry throat. I quickly swallowed more, as much as I could without needing to breath again.
A shiver ran through me when a cool drop of water fell on my chest. That actually felt rather nice. "'s...okay," I whispered, looking up at him. Bloody hell, I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Not because I'm tired, though there is that, but because they keep closing.
But I was used to that. Not, mind you, at this extend. Nor on a daily basis. But in our line of work getting bruises or scraped or your occasional, flesh wound was nothing to get exited about. I've never been poisoned or paralyzed though. It wasn't an experience I cared to have again. Ever. Never. It was humiliating. Being picked up from the showerfloor, naked and not being able to move.
Resigned, I waited for the wave of pain to take it's course. It would go away, eventually. Angel finally got a clue as well and helped me to hold the damn pen. "Fine," I muttered, mustering up a small smile for him. "'M fine. Paper?" He gave me an uncertain look, and yes, there was that guilt flashing up again. "Stop...that," I grated out. "Not...your fault." Good lord, I wish he could see that.
Shaking my head, or well, I would've had I been able to move it. I concentrated on the pen. I nudged it to the right, Angel moving it for me. Wearily I watched the ink appear on the paper and end up in a crude barely recognizable word. The name of the demon. My eyes flicked up at Angel as I gave him a hopeful look. At this point we'd be lucky if he could actually read this.
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When we were finished, I looked at the piece of paper, back up to Wesley. "Okay, so it was a Hleid demon?" I ignored the stupidity of that question even as I reached for a book. Obviously it would be the name of the demon... I was pretty sure Wes didn't just write down obscure names for no reason.
Flipping open a book, I paged through, looking for the information that we needed. I stopped, almost dropping the book when I came across a realistic drawing of the demon we had seen in the sewer. Holding the book up to Wesley, I announced, "Found it..."
I read over the page, then glanced at Wesley. "It says that the demon paralyzes its victims, then kills them... usually goes for women," I said, frowning. We already knew this much at least... "And it says that the paralyzation, when the victim isn't killed, usually wears off in 4 to 6 hours" I looked up at Wesley, frowning again. It had only been maybe 20 minutes since he had been paralyzed yet. At least we knew that the demon hadn't paralyzed the other two, which I kept thinking was a plus.
"But you'll be fine," I added after an awkward moment. "I mean, in a few hours..." I gripped his shoulder slightly, then put the book aside. This was going to be a long night... but I wasn't going to just leave him here alone. I needed to make sure that he would keep breathing, and that he would be okay.
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He helped me write down the name of the bloody demon and by the time we were done I was exhausted. It was only a few minutes work perhaps, but I felt as though I'd been running a triple marathon. Closing my eyes, I kept concentrating on breathing. For some reason that was hard. I just hoped that demon's poison didn't paralyze ones respirator system as well. Or any other organs.
While I heard Angel page through the books, I tried very much to ignore the fact that I was in Angel's bed. Fresh from the shower. Without clothes. I'd be mortified if my body would let me. One pluspoint in this whole ordeal is that I can't blush. At least, I don't think so. I can, however, get cold. Or so it seemed. Angel didn't need much blankets, of any, of course. But I was still wet from the shower, and the sheets were wet as well now.
Then Angel's voice registers. I pry my eyes open with some effort and squint at the book he holds up. "...Yes. T-that's it." Wel, thank god. That was faster then I thought it would be. Then again, I've no idea how long I've been laying here. I listen as he explains the details of this demon and now. Or, try to nod, it's not actually working. Mustering up a small smile, I look back at him while concentrating on breathing. "Told you," I whispered.
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"Are you cold?" I asked, then remembered that he couldn't nod, or talk very much... I ran a hand through my hair, and got up, moving over to the closet and grabbing a heavier blanket. I didn't use the blankets myself, but I had always kept some on hand, in case any of the others had needed something when they had stayed the night.
I draped the blanket over the bed, covering Wes, before smoothing it slightly, uncertain. I sat back down on the edge of the bed cautiously, and asked quietly, "So, um, do you need anything?"
Even as I asked, my eyes widened as I realized how dumb I was. Even if he was hungry or thirsty, how was he supposed to eat or drink? I would have to do it for him, and I figured that he in no way, shape or form, would want anything to do with that.
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Blinking slowly, I watch him as he looked thoughtful for a moment. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't cold and he shouldn't bother. But the fact states that I was starting to get cold. Besides, I can't get my voice and mouth to work fast enough. He's already gone, returning with blanket. I mouth a 'thank you' not even managing to get my voice to work this time.
Feeling another muscle spasm shoot up my leg, I grit my teeth and close my eyes briefly. They open again when Angel asks if I need anything. Movement might be nice, but I doubt that's what he meant. But since I can't eat or drink or do *anything* other then lay here, I'm going to have to decline. I'll not have him bothering with me more. Or embarrass myself, and him, further. "I'm fine," I manage to whisper,trying to ball my hands into fists, or move my leg a little. Bugger, not even that works.
"'m sorry...to be...such a-a...bother." this is ludicrous, even that small sentence has exhausted me.
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My fingers running idly over the bedspread, I fell silent for a moment, then looked down at my hands. I wasn't sure what to say next, or what to talk about; we knew what was going on, for the most part, we knew that Wes would be fine, and... I wasn't really much for the small conversation thing in the first place.
"Not a bother," I finally repeated, for lack of anything better to say. Then, opening my mouth again, I asked, "So, I guess it's a good thing that you stayed here, long enough to shower anyway, huh? I mean, it would have been really bad if this had happened while you were alone or something." I shrugged slightly, then my eyes widened slightly, as I realized just how easily this could have happened while he was home alone.
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No matter what Angel says.
He probably had no idea how embarrassing this all is. He found me naked under the shower. Now, of course one is usually naked under the shower, but one doesn't usually get paralyzed there. And now I'm butt bare naked, in his bed. And I can't move. Can hardly breathe. And it hurts. Prying my eyes open at Angel's words, I give him a tired look, hoping to hide the pain in them.
"I...Guess so," I manage to say after a while. God, my throat feels as though it's made out of sandpaper. And I need to cough. But I can't even manage that. It's just... It doesn't work. "Angel," I whisper, making every effort to move my leg a little. "Hurts." Good lord, even that little action leaves me without much breath.
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I looked at him, and frowned when I saw the pain he was trying to hide in his eyes; he was still hurting, but of course he wasn't going to mention it... I gripped his shoulder tighter, and asked, "Tell me what I can do... please?"
I wasn't used to feeling this helpless; I was used to going out and slaying the demon, no questions asked, no hard feelings. But this... this was farther than a demon, this was someone almost dying because I hadn't kept the demon away from him. What good I was, almost getting him killed on my first day out of my room. No wonder I was better off alone.
Except for the part where... I belonged here. I had a reason to be with my friends, something I hadn't had even back in Sunnydale. Back there, I had been more of a danger than a help.
Looking back at Wesley, I looked away slightly, not sure what I was supposed to do. He wasn't shivering anymore, so I guessed he wasn't cold, but he still looked like he was hurting, and I had no idea what to do... wasn't I supposed to be able to help people, not just watch them hurt?
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If Cordelia were here, she'd probably fuss and hold my hand and ask if I needed anything before forcing some water down my throat. She wouldn't care about any pride. Gunn would probably do the same, but covering it up with some tale about the time he still fought with his crew. Or something other humorous. They wouldn't sit around brooding. Feeling guilty themselves about something that was my fault. I'd have done the same. It's inevitable in our profession and we all know it.
Taking a ragging breath, I let it out slowly again, noticing how shaky it is. This is so damn frustrating. "Stop...that," I grate out, trying to give him a stern look. "Not...your fault. Dammit." Sucking in my breath, I try to move my legs again as another jolt of pain shoots through. Must be to prevent the victim from running off. As though being paralyzed isn't enough. "Legs...hurt." And dear god, instead of ice cold, it's now getting extremely hot? It takes me some effort, but I manage to bring up my hand to push the covers down a bit without much though.
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Shaking my head slightly, I ignored it, then looked at him concernedly. "Wes?"
His legs hurt... shit. I picked the book back up, wondering if there was something specific being done to his legs, then threw it aside when I realized I had read everything there, and that unless the book was mystical, it wasn't going to give me new information spontaneously. Looking back at Wes, I was surprised to see that he had shoved the sheets down slightly.
His hand fell away, trembling a bit, and I said suddenly, "I'm gonna get you some water." I stood up, glancing at him, then frowned slightly, saying akwardly, "I guess I don't have to tell you to not go anywhere, huh?" I offered a small smile, hoping I hadn't pissed him off further, as I slipped into the adjoining room and over to the kitchen.
I got a glass and filled it with cold water, then on second thought, threw in a few ice cubes. He had been cold, but if he was pushing the covers down... and weren't you supposed to give people cold water, as compared to hot water? Didn't they like cold water better?
Going back into the room, I set the glass down on the table as I climbed carefully back on the bed, then hesitated slightly. How was I supposed to do this? I said awkwardly, "Okay, so, um, I'm gonna try to help you sit up, okay?"
I started to slip a hand under his shoulders, and I was startled by the sudden heat coming from his skin. This wasn't good... I lifted him up, then muttered, "Sorry if I hurt you..."
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Good lord it was hot. Not warm, no *hot*. I heard Angel's voice again and opened my eyes to look at him. A small smile played over my lips when he told me he didn't have to tell me to go anywhere. I mouthed a no, and closed my eyes again. Get me water. Dammit. He'll need to help me with that, I can't even sit up. This whole experience was getting quite humiliating. And annoying. Very annoying.
I just concentrated on breathing and trying to ignore how hot it was in here until Angel came back. Cracking one eye open I squinted at him. He looked a bit blurry. Which had probably to do with the fact that I didn't have my glasses on. Right, needed to get a new pair of those as well. This really is my lucky day. Angel finally comes out of his dark cave and what happens? Stumbling Wesley messes up again.
Managing a nod, a resigned one at that, I patiently waited for him to help me up. For some reason he startled and a small jolt went though me. Clenching my teeth together, I forced in a deep breath and blinked at him. "Is...alright. 'M fine." Just get me that water. Make the pain stop. Make the heat stop. Make me able to move again. Oh, and winning the lottery would be splendid too.
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"Here," I said, unneccesarily. The glass was slightly slippery in my hand, from the condensation, and I brought it over to his mouth. I hesitated again slightly, then held the glass, waiting for him to open his mouth. As I did, I flinched slightly as a drop dripped from the glass, hitting Wesley's bare skin.
"Oops... sorry," I muttered quickly. Because this was the best thing to do, when trying to give your best friend a drink because he's paralyzed and was freezing- drip icy water on his bare skin. That would make him feel better... I tilted the glass toward him slightly, trying to get him to drink a little bit.
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I noticed my eyes had closed on their own accord again, when Angel's voice came. It took some effort to open them and look, squint, at Angel. Parting my lips, I tried to drink as much as I could, even though swallowing hurt somewhat. The cool water did sooth my dry throat. I quickly swallowed more, as much as I could without needing to breath again.
A shiver ran through me when a cool drop of water fell on my chest. That actually felt rather nice. "'s...okay," I whispered, looking up at him. Bloody hell, I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open. Not because I'm tired, though there is that, but because they keep closing.
"Felt...nice."
Hot. Hot. It's so sodding hot in here.
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