FREE⇡RIDE⇣HOME [Elevator Hitch || COTAG]

You're enough to me

I don't have keys to my coworker's apartment yet, and it pains me to think that I'll have to wake him up to open the front door for me. I figure I won't bother him much, because he's been sleeping for eight hours or so. He must've been asleep, otherwise he would've messaged me, right?

I try to turn the doorknob to see if the door is perchance open, but it's no use, so I finally decide to phone him. He picks up after what felt like eternity.

"Who's this..."

"Hey, sorry for waking you. Could you open the door?"

"Oh! Hi!" The call is interrupted by his loud cough, that I can hear from inside the apartment, too. "Yeah, sure. Give me a moment." He hangs up.

I slowly put my phone back in my pocket so I don't make too much noise, trying to hear if there's anything happening behind the wall. ...Soon enough, I can hear loud, irregular footsteps approaching.

He swings the door open, and pulls me inside. "Hello..~"

I kick the door shut with my leg, because he's already enveloped my shoulders completely with his arms. "Sorry, but... if you could refrain from touching me for the time being, I'd appreciate it... You're sick..."

He backs away and visibly sobs. "Okay... Sorry. How's your day been?"

"It's been fine." I chuckle uncontrollably, "our employer says hi. He thought we were dating."

"I don't blame him, I also sometimes think we're dating..." he sighs, and leans against the wall, supporting himself.

"Sit down. I'll make us tea. Are you feeling any better?"

As we're both heading to the kitchen, he replies: "Now that you're here, I feel ama..." he sneezes, "...zing..."

I rush over to the couch and take a blanket off of it, so I can throw it onto his head. I'm not going to adjust it so it cozily wraps around him. Are you kidding me? That's what he's supposed to do by himself.

...But he seems to have trouble finding the corners. I sigh, and help him take it out of his way. I walk into him, so I can reach around his shoulders, and pull the blanket crossways in front of him, to cover his entire chest. "Don't walk around in short sleeves, please."

"Yes, sir..!"

I proceed to boil some water in a kettle, but it takes a while, because I don't know how the stove works. I hate new environments.

I pour him a cup of tea and put it next to his face on the table. Face? Oh, he's lying face down on the cold, hard surface. "Your tea is ready, sleepyhead."

He speaks with his nose pressed against the wood. It sounds funny. "So first I was a weirdo... then an airhead... now a sleepyhead... what else will you call me..?"

I pour myself a cup too. "Depends on what you want to be called."

He straightens his back and drags his head off the table, rubbing his face in pain. "Honey, dear, baby, sweetheart, darling... there are many options to choose from. Be creative."

I pout. "Should I drop to my knees, kiss your boots and call you King too?" I ask, obviously sarcastically.

He laughs. "No, that's what I should do to you... someday."

"You wouldn't do that," I assure myself out loud, "that's embarrassing."

"Oh, who cares?" He intertwines his fingers with mine. "You don't even realise how powerful it'd make you feel to get such treatment from me," he smirks.

A shiver so bad runs down by back, that I unintentionally arch it. "Yeah, no, don't do that. Ever. Seriously." I try to distract myself somehow from imagining said scenario.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, brushing his hand off mine.

"Yeah, a bit. What about you?"

"I'm mainly tired, but I'll make something quick up for us." I open the bread box. "Would sandwiches be okay?"

"Yeah! Can I help–"

"Don't get me wrong, but... I'd prefer not to eat anything with your bacteria on it. I just don't want to get sick..." I start slicing  the bread.

"But you have a great immune system."

I fluster for some reason. I seriously don't know why. It's just my immune system. "Thanks... I guess. But you shouldn't tire yourself. I'll do it."

He stands up nonetheless, only to glue himself to my back and plant a million kisses on my neck. I have no idea how he finds the energy to do this every time. "Sorry for getting a fever on the first day since you moved in."

He's pretty much supporting his entire body weight on my scrawny and weak self. "You're heavy." My legs are giving out.

Is it absolutely necessary for him to lean over my shoulder and watch me prepare sandwiches, as he presses his entire body against mine? It's making me claustrophobic.

Once I've finished, I drag him back to his chair, and place the plate of sandwiches before him. I steal but one. "You can have the rest."

I check the cabinets as I munch on my sandwich, looking for medication, or anything that could make him feel better. I find a massive crate of various usables, including bandages, gauzes and simple band-aids. "Are you a doctor, or something?"

"Not really. I just like having everything for the occasion. What are you looking for?"

"Something that could relieve you." I ponder.

"You're enough to me."

"Sorry?"

"It's as though I've miraculously healed, the second I heard your voice over the phone. You're enough to me."

I groan loudly, but it sounds more like a girly moan, and I feel even more embarrassed than before that. Shut up, shut up, shut up...

...Sometimes I completely forget how much I love him. "Then, should I stay here with you?"

"Duh, where would you go otherwise?"

"Well, I was meaning to take a nap."

He stops chewing, supposedly because he starts to think for once.

As I'm waiting for him to say something, he dusts his hands from the crumbs of the sandwich he's just finished, and raises his hands in the air, like a silly toddler. I suppose he wants me to lift him up.

I breathe out in relief, and hug him. "Sorry, I'm exhausted. I have to rest for a while. You should take a hot shower and relax, too."

"That's fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I can manage."

"Thank you... See you later, I guess..."

I pull away, and head to the bedroom.

✂