The next few days can be summed up in one sentence. I am the world’s most annoying patient. Lukas hovers. Constantly. He takes care of everything, meals, meds, animal wrangling, temperature checks, hydration reminders, blanket fluffing. It’s ridiculously sweet and completely over the top. As far as HE’S concerned, I’m supposed to be gently lounging in bed, snuggled up with Princess and Roxy, slowly rebuilding my strength like some delicate flower who’s recently been through hell. Which, sure, technically true. But what I’ve ACTUALLY been doing is making every possible excuse to get out of bed the second he turns his back. It started innocently. Bathroom trips. Stretching. Fixing my hair at the vanity because I looked like a tragic ghost and it was making me feel worse. But then I got bolder. I tried to reorganise a drawer. Made it halfway to the kitchen to make tea. I nearly reached the top shelf to grab a bath bomb. All mostly harmless. The problem? I STILL can’t stay awake for long stretches. I’m up to about two hours at a time now, better than before, but still frustratingly short. And Lukas? He definitely does NOT find it harmless. Not after he came home from a quick trip to get groceries and found me napping on the kitchen floor with my back against the cupboards. One socked foot propped up. Roxy curled beside me like a fuzzy bodyguard. I didn’t fall or anything like that. I sat on the floor intentionally. I mean, I didn’t exactly plan to sleep. I just… Got tired, and my bed seemed way too far away. The tiles were cool. Roxy was warm. It made sense at the time. Lukas disagreed. Passionately. Now he’s hovering even more, if that’s humanly possible. I love him. I really do, not that I’ve actually SAID anything about that yet. But loving him doesn’t change the fact that I’m about ten seconds away from hitting him with a crutch.
“Come on, Lukas.” I beg, lying back on my bed and staring at the ceiling dramatically.
“I just want to sit at my vanity and play with makeup for a bit. I feel gross. It’ll make me feel better.” I try to reason. He crosses his arms stubbornly.
“No way. You need to rest.” He insists.
“You’ve been saying that for DAYS. I just want to feel pretty.” I argue. He softens, sitting on the bed beside me.
“You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.” He says firmly. I should melt. That was stupidly sweet. A couple days ago, I might have. But I am not someone designed for sitting around all day and I’m going crazy here, so instead, I narrow my eyes.
“Don’t try to flatter me into staying put. I’m restless. I can’t stay in bed forever.” I complain. Lukas doesn’t flinch.
“I don’t expect forever. Just… Until I know you’re not going to randomly collapse again.” He clarifies. I groan.
“How long are you planning to play nurse, anyway? Don’t you need to go back to work? You’ve got to be running out of leave. I know I am.” I sigh .
“Doesn’t matter.” He says shortly.
“It kind of does!” I point out. He shrugs, perfectly infuriating.
“It doesn't. I’m not leaving until I’m SURE you’re okay.” He says with an expression that tells me he will not be swayed. I huff. Then I have an idea.
“So… If I can stay awake for a whole day, you’ll relax a little?” I say slowly. Lukas eyes me suspiciously.
“Define ‘whole day.’” He demands, clearly swapping into lawyer mode. I roll my eyes.
“A full workday.” I reply sweetly.
“Let’s say… Nine to five. That’s standard, right?” I clarify. He tilts his head, considering.
“Fine.” He says eventually.
“If you can make it from nine to five, alert, upright, and not secretly napping under the kitchen table, then yeah. I’ll ease up.” He reluctantly agrees. I sit up straighter, victorious.
“Challenge accepted.” I say excitedly. Lukas smirks.
“IF you can manage it.” He adds.
“Oh I will.” I assure him.
“And when I win, I’m putting on eyeliner, real clothes, and going out for coffee like a normal person.” I say firmly.
“We’ll see.” He says with a smug smile like he thinks he’s going to be carrying me back to bed at any time. I’ll show him. Tomorrow, I’m staying awake all day.
Much to Lukas’s amusement and eternal smugness, it takes me almost another full week to complete my challenge. A full week of trying and failing. Of starting strong and crashing hard by mid afternoon. Of waking up confused at three pm with Lukas staring at me, arms crossed and eyebrow raised to tell me that I failed again. But today? Today, I am going to make it. Barely. I feel like absolute garbage. My body hurts, my head is heavy, and I’m surviving on caffeine, willpower, and pure spite. But I did it. I’ve stayed awake. And Lukas can’t argue with that. We’re sitting side by side on the couch, my legs propped up on the coffee table, his arm resting along the backrest. I watch the digital clock on my phone tick forward with the intensity of someone waiting to be released from a lifetime sentence.
“One more minute.” I practically sing, trying not to sound as wrecked as I feel. Lukas crosses his arms. He looks about as impressed as a cat in a bathtub. That’s fair. He knows EXACTLY how horrible I feel right now. He’s felt it every time he’s touched my arm, held my hand, brushed hair from my face. The ache, the fatigue, the slight sting of a magical system that still hasn’t come back online. But I AM awake. And that means I win.
“Aaaaand… That’s it!” I announce triumphantly, as the clock flips to five pm.
“It’s five o’clock. I win. Stayed awake all day. Challenge complete.” I declare. Lukas groans like it physically pains him.
“Fine. I’ll go back to work tomorrow. BUT I’m calling to check in during the day. If you don’t answer, I’m coming straight back.” He threatens.
“Deal.” I say instantly, nodding like a bobblehead. He narrows his eyes.
“You promise you’ll answer?” He asks.
“Promise. Now can I PLEASE go back to bed before my soul exits my body?” I whine. I won, there’s no reason for me to torture myself any longer. He lets out a breath, then stands, scooping me into his arms without warning.
“Finally. Come on.” He mutters. I don’t even argue. I’m too tired. He’s been carrying me like this a lot lately, and honestly? It’s kind of nice. By the time we reach the bedroom, my head’s already drooping against his shoulder. He eases me into bed like I’m made of glass and starts fluffing pillows like he’s memorised exactly how I like them. Which… He probably has.
“Rest.” He says firmly, tugging the blankets over me.
“Kay.” I mumble, already halfway under. Then I blink up at him, catching his wrist before he pulls away.
“Hey, wake me up before you leave for work tomorrow, okay?” I ask sleepily. He sighs and brushes my hair away from my face, fingers cool and careful.
“I would never leave without saying goodbye.” He murmurs, then he leans in and presses the softest kiss to my forehead. I’m asleep before he even pulls away.