Because I Love You✔️

Chapter 32: Forced

Chapter Thirty-two: Forced

Gentle rays of sunlight cast a glare over Xaphile's eyelids, warming his face and causing him to shift in his sleep. As he was roused, dryness suddenly came over him, reducing his tongue to sand and his throat to parched paper.

He fully woke with a start and licked his lips, blinking when he realized that they were dry and cracked. After a moment he tasted the unpleasant tang of blood and salt, which made him cough. 

His throat was so dry it hurt.

When was the last time I drank anything? he wondered, trying to get some fluid past the desert he called a mouth. God... I'm dehydrated.

Rolling away from the mattress, Xaphile glanced about the room hazily, searching for a water bowl of some kind.

Upon standing up and trying to hobble towards the door, he realized pretty damn quick that his brain and his legs weren't in sync when a bout of unbelievable dizziness swept over him and he teetered to the side, grasping the bedpost for support.

Breathing deeply a few times as the room spun, he slowly tried to move away from the bed again only to lose his balance and crash to the floor. Landing on his face with a loud thud, he glared evil darts at the floor under his cheek, willing it to explain to him why he wasn't stable.

Taking a few moments to catch his breath, Xaphile weakly stood up and carefully walked over to his bag, dragging some fresh clothes out of it.

Even though he was wobbling, he eventually managed to shrug on a clean pair of pants and hobbled over to the door, flexing his legs.

Jerking his hood up, he slowly pulled on the handle and peered out into the gorgeous hallway.

It was empty, so he stepped out into the corridor.

Walking carefully down the hall, he tiredly ran a hand over his face and sighed since he really wasn't feeling good.

"Maybe I'm getting sick or something," he muttered, turning the corner and heading down the stairs one at a time towards the sounds of quiet laughter and muffled conversations. "Wouldn't be surprised after all the stress I've been through lately."

Even back when he'd been a kid, he'd always seemed to come down with some sort of virus or cold whenever he'd gotten too stressed out. It was his body's way of telling him things were getting too overwhelming.

Stepping out into the main part of the inn, Xaphile looked around until he spotted Gus sitting on his own near the corner of the pub.

Ella and Amelia were nowhere in sight.

With a sigh, he waddled over to the stone table and collapsed on the seat next to Gus, letting his head thump down on it.

The blonde jumped and stared at him with a cocked eyebrow, then pushed a plate of food over.

Diced grilled potatoes and a clump of grapes.

"Morning Phil," Gus greeted. "Sleep well?"

It took him a moment to respond since there was no fork and the food was steaming. He drummed his fingers on the counter until the sound of his claws clicking gave him an epiphany.

Triumphant, he speared some potatoes with his sharp talons.

"I slept all right," Xaphile mumbled, popping the potatoes into his mouth. "Thanks. "

He speared and popped in a few more, swallowing, but then winced since a sharp pain seared through his throat and shot into his skull. An oncoming headache, no doubt.