"I told you this would happen," Thomas sighed, pulling up the chair from Jimmy's desk and sitting down beside the bed where Jimmy was lying. He set a mug of steaming tea down on the bedside table and looked at Jimmy.
The footman was propped up against his pillow in bed, his blonde hair in a tangled mess and his cheeks flushed. He blew his nose as Thomas sat down, sniffing sadly. Even though he was pale, clammy and dishevelled, Thomas still couldn't help thinking how beautiful Jimmy was.
"I'm fine," Jimmy sniffed stubbornly, coughing.
"You shouldn't have gone out in the rain yesterday," Thomas said, lighting a cigarette and putting the box out of reach when Jimmy eyed them hopefully.
"Well, there's no point in telling me that now, is there?" Jimmy said irritably, his voice hoarse. He struggled to sit up a little, coughing again.
"I told it then, too," Thomas reminded him coolly.
Jimmy scowled, looking most disgruntled. "You being right is hardly going to help me get better, is it?"
Thomas raised his eyebrows slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise that it was my responsibility to nurse you back to health. It's not as though I have anything else to do, is it? I'm sure Mr. Carson will be happy to do all my jobs for me so I can sit and look after an idiotic footman who's too damn stubborn to go out in the rain with a coat," Thomas finished, exhaling a plume of smoke.
Jimmy attempted an angry retort in response Thomas' sarcasm, but it ended up just being a particularly violent coughing fit.
"Here," Thomas sighed, handing Jimmy the glass of water sitting by the bed.
Jimmy snatched it grumpily and took a gulp.
"Look, I've only got half an hour just now. But I'll come back as soon as supper is finished too," Thomas said, his tone softened. "If it'll help."
"Why do you think I asked?" Jimmy said weakly, settling back down against the pillows and sniffling. "It's so boring being stuck here all day with nothing to do."
"You don't need to persuade me of that," Thomas smiled wryly, remembering the incredibly boring few weeks he spent in bed with nothing to do while he was recovering from his injuries after the fair. "I know what it's like."
Jimmy looked slightly abashed, and remained silent. Thomas felt mildly guilty for bringing the subject up; he knew it was a source of discomfort for Jimmy as well as him. Instead of apologising and therefore acknowledging the truth of the matter, he gently handed Jimmy the steaming mug of tea, which Jimmy took gratefully. Fleetingly, Thomas wondered at how gorgeous Jimmy could still look when his hair was a mess and his skin was pale and sweaty and his nose was red from blowing it too many times.
He hadn't let himself be alone with Jimmy for weeks; it was easier. When there were other people in the background, Thomas could trust himself not to say something he'd regret, to make his feelings painfully evident and ruin their friendship. He was expert at maintaining a cool mask around other people, but with Jimmy, he found it nearly impossible. So it was easier if there were others around when he spent time with Jimmy, because it meant Thomas couldn't do something he'd regret.
"I haven't seen you properly for weeks," Jimmy coughed, as though he'd read Thomas' thoughts. He blew his nose and looked at Thomas imploringly.
"What do you mean? You see me every day," Thomas frowned, taking a drag of his cigarette and looking at Jimmy.
Jimmy opened his mouth, but then closed it again, shaking his head and merely taking a gulp of the tea Thomas had brought him. Thomas wondered whether it was his imagination or whether Jimmy really did look nervous— perhaps it was just the symptoms of his cold.
