Sick
He tried to open his eye to try and see where he is but his eyelids are too heavy. He hears the person giving him the wonderful scalp massage giggle. It was from a woman. He is finally able to open his eyes, but only half way. He sees that the one helping him to relax is a dark skinned woman.
“Who?” he asked, his voice is coarse and cracking. The woman sighs and runs a finger from his scalp to his throat. She gently caresses the area, still humming all the while. Arthur suddenly feels the pain that had been there start to lessen. He decides that this person is alright. He closes his eyes and lets the dark woman do her work.
“I,” the woman speaks in a soothing tone, “am da bearer of all things, child.” Arthur suddenly feels very tired, but he still wanted to feel her wonderful massage. She chuckled again.
“It’s alright, you can sleep…”
When he woke up, he head was still in the dark woman’s lap. He asked the woman, “Am I dead?” The woman seemed amused by the question.
“Arthur! There you are!” Suddenly, that wonderful peace that Arthur had was shattered as the sounds of the outside world finally worked their way in. Arthur looked up at the person who interrupted with half open, tired eyes.
“Francis?” he croaked, clearly confused as to why the Frenchman was picking him off the grass. He felt so tired.
Francis frowned at the feverish man. ‘How the hell did he get so far?’ he thought, slightly irritated at the dazed man. ‘Stupid man.’ He thought, continuing the trek back to Arthur’s home. Meanwhile, Arthur listened to the rhythm of Francis’ heart until he fell asleep once more.
Arthur was immediately aware of the cool hand on his hot cheek. ‘Feels nice…’ he thought, unaware that he had also said it aloud too. Francis smiled, ‘ah, the things I would do to you if you let me…’ The Frenchman sighed and took his hand away. Arthur frowned and opened his eyes. That wavy, blonde hair could only belong to one person. Arthur closed his eyes again and smiled. He fell asleep knowing that he was in good hands.
Francis was pissed. Not only was that English bastard gone from his bed again, but he was gone from the house again too. It was a repeat of yesterday all over again.
‘Ungrateful bastard,’ He thought, wandering the street looking for his ailing friend, ‘I agree to take care of him and he…’ Francis stopped his mental rant. He had found Arthur. He appeared to be sleeping with his head in a dark woman’s lap. She seemed to be running her fingers though his hair.
‘But who is that woman?’ He thought. She suddenly turned her head and locked eyes with him. He started walking towards them without realizing it. He knelt beside to two. A feeling of peace suddenly over came him and he collapsed on the woman’s shoulders. The woman smiles and wraps an arm around him.
“Dun be scared, child. Mama’s got cha.” She cooed, running her fingers though his hair. “You really care about him, don cha?” Francis looked at the sleeping Arthur.
“Oui…” Mother Nature gave a hearty laugh. “Good, then ya better take good care of this one.” She looked down at Arthur, her eyes full of motherly affection, “He cares fur ya too.”
When Francis woke up he realized how much better Arthur looked. He reached over and placed a hand on the sick man’s cheek.
He cares fur ya too…
‘Why hadn’t I noticed before?’ He thought to himself, Arthur suddenly nuzzled the hand on his cheek.
“Your hands are so cool…” He slowly opened his eyes. They were much clearer than they had been for the past few days. “Oh good, It’s you Francis.” A bright smile broke out on his face. Francis sat up and much to Arthur’s dismay took his cool hand away. Francis looked around.
‘Weren’t we in a park…?’ Then his eyes fell on a clock and widened. ‘Ah! I better get the ungrateful bastard some soup before he dies on me!’ He thought, jumping from the bed, and running to the kitchen leaving a confused Arthur on his bed.
A little while later, Arthur stumbled into the kitchen and demanded. “Frog, I’m hungry, feed me some of your fancy cuisine.” Francis rolled his eyes.
“At least mine won’t kill you…” he mumbled over the pot of soup. He suddenly felt Arthur hugging him from behind.
“Thank you, Francis.” He mumbled into the back of his neck. Francis shivered.
“Arthur, go sit down before you burn yourself.” Francis was surprised that the man actually listened to him.
A little while later while they were eating in silence Francis casually asked,
“Do you know who that woman was?” Arthur froze.
“You could see her too?”
“Who?” he asked, his voice is coarse and cracking. The woman sighs and runs a finger from his scalp to his throat. She gently caresses the area, still humming all the while. Arthur suddenly feels the pain that had been there start to lessen. He decides that this person is alright. He closes his eyes and lets the dark woman do her work.
“I,” the woman speaks in a soothing tone, “am da bearer of all things, child.” Arthur suddenly feels very tired, but he still wanted to feel her wonderful massage. She chuckled again.
“It’s alright, you can sleep…”
When he woke up, he head was still in the dark woman’s lap. He asked the woman, “Am I dead?” The woman seemed amused by the question.
“Arthur! There you are!” Suddenly, that wonderful peace that Arthur had was shattered as the sounds of the outside world finally worked their way in. Arthur looked up at the person who interrupted with half open, tired eyes.
“Francis?” he croaked, clearly confused as to why the Frenchman was picking him off the grass. He felt so tired.
Francis frowned at the feverish man. ‘How the hell did he get so far?’ he thought, slightly irritated at the dazed man. ‘Stupid man.’ He thought, continuing the trek back to Arthur’s home. Meanwhile, Arthur listened to the rhythm of Francis’ heart until he fell asleep once more.
Arthur was immediately aware of the cool hand on his hot cheek. ‘Feels nice…’ he thought, unaware that he had also said it aloud too. Francis smiled, ‘ah, the things I would do to you if you let me…’ The Frenchman sighed and took his hand away. Arthur frowned and opened his eyes. That wavy, blonde hair could only belong to one person. Arthur closed his eyes again and smiled. He fell asleep knowing that he was in good hands.
Francis was pissed. Not only was that English bastard gone from his bed again, but he was gone from the house again too. It was a repeat of yesterday all over again.
‘Ungrateful bastard,’ He thought, wandering the street looking for his ailing friend, ‘I agree to take care of him and he…’ Francis stopped his mental rant. He had found Arthur. He appeared to be sleeping with his head in a dark woman’s lap. She seemed to be running her fingers though his hair.
‘But who is that woman?’ He thought. She suddenly turned her head and locked eyes with him. He started walking towards them without realizing it. He knelt beside to two. A feeling of peace suddenly over came him and he collapsed on the woman’s shoulders. The woman smiles and wraps an arm around him.
“Dun be scared, child. Mama’s got cha.” She cooed, running her fingers though his hair. “You really care about him, don cha?” Francis looked at the sleeping Arthur.
“Oui…” Mother Nature gave a hearty laugh. “Good, then ya better take good care of this one.” She looked down at Arthur, her eyes full of motherly affection, “He cares fur ya too.”
When Francis woke up he realized how much better Arthur looked. He reached over and placed a hand on the sick man’s cheek.
He cares fur ya too…
‘Why hadn’t I noticed before?’ He thought to himself, Arthur suddenly nuzzled the hand on his cheek.
“Your hands are so cool…” He slowly opened his eyes. They were much clearer than they had been for the past few days. “Oh good, It’s you Francis.” A bright smile broke out on his face. Francis sat up and much to Arthur’s dismay took his cool hand away. Francis looked around.
‘Weren’t we in a park…?’ Then his eyes fell on a clock and widened. ‘Ah! I better get the ungrateful bastard some soup before he dies on me!’ He thought, jumping from the bed, and running to the kitchen leaving a confused Arthur on his bed.
A little while later, Arthur stumbled into the kitchen and demanded. “Frog, I’m hungry, feed me some of your fancy cuisine.” Francis rolled his eyes.
“At least mine won’t kill you…” he mumbled over the pot of soup. He suddenly felt Arthur hugging him from behind.
“Thank you, Francis.” He mumbled into the back of his neck. Francis shivered.
“Arthur, go sit down before you burn yourself.” Francis was surprised that the man actually listened to him.
A little while later while they were eating in silence Francis casually asked,
“Do you know who that woman was?” Arthur froze.
“You could see her too?”