i feel weak,
She stared off into the distance. Well, as far as the duvet would allow her as she held it up so that it covered half of her face and even her eyes. Hopefully he would get the impression that she was sleeping and would leave her alone.
But he didn't seem to realise as he had been sitting across from her for the past half an hour, doing some staring of his own. However, his staring was directed at her and her duvet clad body.
He didn't move, he didn't say anything. He didn't do anything.
He just stared at her.
And she hated he stared at her as if she was a precious rose that would break at any moment. She hated that he was always around her, tending to her every need. Especially more since she was sick.
She had been sick about an hour ago, throwing up the little of the delicious soup that he had made for her. She had closed the door, but he still followed her into the bathroom. She had pushed at him but he remained where he was and held her hair back as she continued to throw up violently. When she was finished, he helped her brush her teeth, wash her face and then he carried her back to the sofa. He tucked her in and changed the channel so that she could watch Gordon Ramsey expertly float around his state-of-the-ark kitchen like she usually did.
She had felt a sense of déjà vu in that moment.
She couldn't understand why the situation had felt so familiar.
"I know you're awake," he called out to her, his rough and throaty voice bringing her out of her thoughts and back to reality. The one where he wouldn't leave her alone. "You can't hide under the covers forever." He chuckled, the sound music to her ears.
Ignoring him as per usual, she sighed and pulled the covers all the way over her head so that she wouldn't have to look at him anyone.
Hopefully he would get the message, but she knew better.