midnight mass

for i will restore health to you

Curse this stupid island and it's stupid residents who got me stupidly sick.

Lying around on my ass, fever burning hot through my body and yet shivering from cold was not how I had wanted to spend my week. I had big plans of getting wasted on the mainland and doing absolutely nothing else.

It had been three days and the cough, the runny nose, the nausea, all of it, persisted. Erin had stopped by on the second day, giving me medicine she retrieved from the general store for me like the sweetheart she was.

Nevertheless, I felt like shit, laying on my couch, no tv on, no book to read, just my ill self and my thoughts all day. That was until a knock sounded on my door right as I was about to drift into restless slumber.

I groaned loudly as I hauled my aching body up and to the door, but all apprehension died on my tongue when the door swung open to reveal Father Paul.

Father Paul and I sort of had a situationship going on. We'd kissed, stayed the night at his little home beside the church, hung out constantly. To anyone else this would be dating, but of course we couldn't call it that.

"Paul," I said, honestly kinda surprised, and a little self conscious of my sick appearance, "what are you doing here?"

"You weren't at mass."

His eyes gave me a once over.

"I got a little worried, so I asked Erin, I know you two are close, and she said you were sick. Why didn't you tell me?"

The last sentence of his little rant sounded almost offended that I hadn't involved him in my sick, self pity spiral. His eyes shone with honest concern and I squirmed under the intensity.

"Oh yeah, nothing too bad. Just a little head cold. I'll be right as rain soon!" I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

"That's not what Erin said," I watched, a little shocked, as he pushed past me into my home, "She said you seemed terrible and I agree."

"Gee thanks," I breathed sarcastically, just now noticing the bag of things Paul had brought with him, "oh Jesus, I'm not about to get doctored, am I?"

I hated being coddled, at least, that's what I told myself and others. Plus I wasn't even that sick.

Paul completely ignored me, instead coming up to me to give me a quick kiss on the side of my head, stroking my hair.

"We should give you a bath," he said absentmindedly, trying to crowd me upstairs to the bathroom, "then you need rest."

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get lost in the sockets.

"Paul, as much as I appreciate the concern, I'm really fine." I stopped myself from being further pushed up the stairs and Paul took this as an opportunity to just pick me up and carry me instead. I sighed.

"You're not fine, you're sick," he rebutted, sitting me down on the bathroom counter while he turned on the water in the tub.

Suddenly, he turned to me with a pleading look in his dark eyes.

"Please, just let me do this for you. When Erin told me you were sick, I was so worried I just need to- I just need to do this."

His hands found the sides of my face, cupping it so gently as he looked down at me.

I rolled my eyes. Again.

"Alright, alright. Doctor away," I gestured flippantly with my hand, "You're so overdramatic, you know?"

He once again ignored me, turning to the bath to add a little soap to make bubbles and the turning off the water once the tub was filled.

He turned to me and softly pulled me to stand. His eyes had that same concern in them as when I opened the door. His large hands gripped the edge of the sweatshirt I was wearing and removed it. He undressed the rest of my clothes quickly after noticing the slight shiver in my spine standing in the cold air.

I lowered myself into the tub, shooting Paul a look when he tried to help.

I hated to admit it, but Paul was right about this. The warm water felt amazing, and the stuffiness of my nose slowly dissipated.

Paul crouched beside the tub on the ground behind me and he gently tipped my head back to get my hair wet. Once it had been dipped in the water, he squirted a light circle of shampoo in his palm. He lightly massaged the shampoo into my hair in soothing circles and I could feel myself growing sleepy.

After the shampoo had been cleaned from my hair, Paul washed my body so tenderly and with such care I almost cried. I think he could tell I was in a fragile state of mind, he was letting little praises fall from his lips like I was a hurt kitten he was helping.

He let me lean on him when I got out and he toweled me dry. I let him pick out my pajamas and giggled when he picked the softest, fluffiest sweatshirt and pants he could find because of course he did. He helped me step into the pants and left a warm kiss on my hipbone after.

Paul led me to my bed and laid me there, kissing me once on the forehead before running off with a quick "be right back".

He did come back, unfortunately with medicine, and I groaned childishly at the sight of it.

He let out a sigh of exasperation, but he was grinning.

"It's only a little bit. Come on, please," he implored in that low, melodic voice of his, trying to pass a spoonful through my lips, and of course I couldn't help but comply, "good girl."

I cuddled up in the V of his long legs as he brushed out my wet hair, and somewhere between the light scratches on my scalp and the quiet whisper of prayers he was praying for my health, I fell asleep. I only roused later, once, to Paul's lips pressing a tender kiss to the tip of my reddened nose and a whisper of "my sweet girl" I'm sure I wasn't meant to hear.

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This might be terrible but it is so late I cannot tell the difference. I wanna know if you guys prefer the sweet shjt like this or smutty shit more. This was personally very cute and silly to write. Sorry if it's bad I'm about to fall asleep writing this. Siri look up "Bible quotes about being sick"