Immaculate (Book 3)

Persistence

A/N: Hello there my lovelies! I can't get over how adorable this chapter is tbh. Fluffy cheese! This version of Mitch is my child and I love him very much omg. Well...enjoy!

Chapter 3

I felt like I was dying. It felt like Satan crawled into my chest. It hurt to breathe, and my head was killing me.

But, this was moving day. I wouldn't get this day again. I couldn't miss it.

I let out a congested sigh before dragging myself out of bed and exiting the room. I walked slowly down the hall. If I could just avoid Scott, I'd be able to at least help with one box without being told to go back and rest.

I grabbed the corner of the wall by the stairs before peeking down.

Along with Scott, Kirstie, her boyfriend Jeremy, and Scott's friend Alex were helping with the move.

Scott and Alex laughed about something before carrying some boxes out of the house, leaving the living room empty.

I scurried down the stairs quickly, and dashed over to the boxes. I nearly fell since balancing wasn't my strong suit, but I caught myself and grabbed a box.

It was a little heavy, but I just wanted to help. It was blocking my view, so I had to go slowly so I didn't hit the wall.

I winced and strained at its weight. I was considering going back and getting a different box, but I didn't have to worry about it, since the box was taken from me.

Jeremy took it while Kirstie gave me an annoyed look. "I'd go back upstairs before Starfish gets back in here," she commented in a warning tone.

"What's he gonna do about it?" I challenged as I crossed my arms.

Ew, my voice sounded so gross when I was sick.

"He's gonna do this," Scott commented, basically appearing out of nowhere next to me. I narrowed my eyes up at him, not sure what he was gonna do. He reached down and lifted me up, before putting me over his shoulder.

"Scott put me down!" I yelled as he carried me back upstairs. I punched his back uselessly as I protested, but he still carried me back into the room.

"You won't get any better if you're carrying stuff all day. Just sit down and relax," he instructed before setting me down on the bed. "Look, I even put Spongebob on for you," he reminded me as he pointed at the TV.

"I don't want to watch Spongebob. I want—" pause for a gross coughing fit, "I want to help. I've been waiting for this—" cue more gross coughing, "this day for months."

Ok, I was a mess, and I knew I would only get worse if I helped, but this meant a lot to me.

"You sound like you're about to cough up a lung," Scott pointed out.

"I don't care!" I whined before pouting and crossing my arms like a child.

"Ok listen. There will be still be plenty to do tomorrow. Maybe if you're a little less gross, you can help then," he offered.

"But I wanna help today," I whined.

He sighed in defeat, "Rest until we have everything packed up. And then once we get to the new place, you can help, deal?" He compromised.

I just kept my arms crossed and glared up at him.

"Alright, I tried. Rest," he ordered before kissing my forehead.

Once he left and closed the door, I sighed dramatically.

I needed a better strategy. If I could just help with one box, I would feel satisfied. I stood up and tiptoed over to the door. I grabbed the handle and twisted it slowly, making sure it didn't make a sound, before pulling the door open.