What a Catch, Donnie!

I woke up coughing and calling for Patrick. My stomach was churning and my head throbbed. He came running in with a bucket and a glass of water. I'd been sleeping for hours (that's what it felt like, from how stiff I was) and their was no one in sight but Patrick and Brendon, who was sleeping a few feet from the bed on the floor.

"What time- is-" I couldn't finish my question before spewing into the bucket. He held my hair as I threw up the nothing that was in my stomach, yellow acid burning my throat. When I was finished, I drank the water, slowly.

"Thank you," I gratified, smiling weakly. Concern filled his expression.

"Donnie... You look terrible," I laughed once, rolling onto my back and sitting up. Sweat was sticking to my forehead.

"Thank you, Patrick. That will always make a girl feel better." I laughed and he got an apologetic smile.

"I do not have pneumonia. But I have an awful cold," I finished with a sneeze, turning my head into my arm. I shook my head fluttering my eyes back to Patrick. He stared at me and, at this moment, I wished I was a mind reader instead of a psychic; even if only for a second.

"Penny for your thoughts," I murmured, placing a piece of stray hair behind my ear. Patrick blinked, dropping his eyes to the blanket and running a hand through his dark blonde hair.

"What if I told you I was thinking that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen?" His hazy green eyes gleamed at me from under his hat. My breath stopped as the butterflies began. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice is not the one that was heard.

"How do you feel, Donnie?" I looked to Brendon's groggy face with a smile, patting the bed beside me. When he sat down, I hugged him tightly.

"I feel fine, thank you. Patrick has been taking very good care of me," I grinned at Patrick then closed my eyes, snuggling my head into Brendon's lap. The mattress moved as Patrick stood.

"Please stay," I called, opening my eyes. He stopped, one foot on the bottom step and one hand on the wooden rail.

"Will you sing for me?" I asked, looking toward the piano. He sighed after a moment, but strolled to the wooden bench, sitting down and cracking his knuckles. I smiled, laying Brendon down so I could lay on his chest, closing my eyes once again. His singing soothed me into pure peace:

I've got troubled thoughts
And the self-esteem to match
What a catch
Watch a catch...

Soon, I dozed off, lyrics still in mind, beautiful voice still in my never ending thoughts, and his thoughts never leaving my ears...

"What if I told you that I was thinking that you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen?"