A Cup of Tea

“Do you want lemon, sugar, milk?”

“I told you, Mathew, I drink my tea black,” Olivia shouted from the couch. She was home sick with a cold-like virus.

Her boyfriend/best friend, Mathew, had come over to take care of her while her parents were at work. It was a Monday morning in the middle of July. The heat was blazing outside, yet Olivia was inside, wrapped in a blanket, her entire body violently shaking from the chills.

“So you want black tea, then?”

“No. I want rose,” she groaned.

“What?” he called, stopping what he was doing, looking back.

“Let me do it, Mathew,” she said more to herself than to anyone else. Dropping the blanket, the fragile girl managed to pick herself up, and tromped over into the kitchen.

Mathew stood by the counter, looking through all the cupboards for the tea boxes.

“It’s in the pantry,” Olivia said, slightly smiling at her friend’s hopelessness.

She couldn’t be mad at him. He had taken it upon himself to help her out, even though she insisted on him staying away. Instead of heeding to Olivia’s warnings, Mathew came over anyways. He felt guilty; Mathew was pretty sure that he had given the illness to Olivia the week earlier.

“Olivia! What are you doing? Go back and lie down, I’ll get it!” he said, grabbing her shoulders. Stubbornly, she resisted.

“It sounds like you’re having trouble making a simple cup of tea. I can do it myself, I promise,” she paused to cough. Her cheeks puffed out as the violent exhales wracked her body. “Ow,” she muttered, rubbing her sternum.

“See, you’re sick, go rest,” Mathew said, grabbing her waist. Olivia didn’t move. The two had a stare off in the middle of the kitchen.

Sighing, Mathew gave up. “Fine then, sit here.” He pulled a chair out from underneath the kitchen table. Slipping his arm around her waist, he lead his companion to the seat.

Olivia put on a triumphant smile as she leaned back in the chair. She watched Mathew searched for the tea pot.

Feeling tired and exhausted, Olivia put the side of her head down on the table. Her body responded again to the chills, her muscles aching, her head pounding. The longer she laid there, the dizzier and sick she felt.

Once the water was on the stove, Mathew turned back to the patient. Seeing her in this state, his heart dropped. Now that the light was brighter, Mathew was really able to get a good look at his love.

Olivia’s skin was as pale and thin as tissue paper. The dark black bags under her eyes stood out in contrast to her white skin. Her nose was slightly pink from the constant wiping. Her chapped lips looked brittle as they were a paler pink than a dying English Miss rose. Olivia’s arms looked even more skinny and bony than usual. Mathew noticed how much she was shaking; it looked like she was suffering a seizure. Olivia looked like she would break faster than glass if dropped.

“Olivia…” he breathed, not knowing what to say to her. His feelings of slight annoyance from her stubbornness had been replaced by the crushing feeling of sadness and pity.

“Huh?” she lifted her head a bit. A huge chill overcame her body, causing her small frame to dramatically shudder.

Not saying anything, Mathew ran to grab her blanket. When he came back, he wrapped it around her shoulders and sat in the chair next to her. He pulled her head into his chest and wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders.

“She feels like she weighs five pounds,” Mathew thought as his hands grazed her shoulder blades. He was able to feel every vertebra in her spine. This fact worried him; it was unhealthy.

The girl in his clutches continued to tremble. Although her entire body was quivering, Mathew could feel the heat she was giving off. A fever was raging inside her, a sign of her body’s feeble attempt to attack the invader.

Mathew and Olivia sat, huddled together for a while. Mathew held Olivia tight, wishing that his embrace would be enough to fight off the virus that was taking over her body.

Every now and then, Olivia would have to pull back, a coughing fit taking over her lungs. Mathew hated just sitting there while Olivia’s lungs were throwing a fit, threatening to collapse in a second. He could tell how much pain the coughing put Olivia in. She always put her hand to her check and massaged her sternum, taking long, deep breaths to regain her control of oxygen.

Mathew held Olivia tight, while she limply rested her head against Mathew’s strong chest, feeling his steady breathing. His heartbeat was hypnotizing, relaxing. Olivia’s exhaustion set in as she closed her eyes, melting into Mathew.

The paired stayed like this until the tea pot on the stove began to whistle. Olivia perked up her head; Mathew just looked down at her.

“The water is ready,” he said dumbly. He kissed the top of her head and went to go fix her cup of tea.

Olivia gathered her blanket around her shoulders and hiked back to the couch. As soon as she reached her destination, she flopped down and pulled the cover tighter, still feeling cold and weak.

Mathew had poured the water into the mug and dropped in the tea bag. “Olivia, do you take sugar?” he asked, but she was already asleep.