Stars
Ten.
“I’m dying.”
“As am I.”
“How is Dorothea, the plague bringer?”
“Fine, which has majorly pissed me off. We’re watching Batman because she hates it and I’m angry at her for making me sick.” She jabbed my arm and frowned; “Now she’s giving me a disapproving look for swearing.”
“Yes, you should stop doing that in front of her.” He said, putting the phone down on a hard surface and blowing his nose. He picked it back up, “What even, I cannot deal with this any longer. This is full blown outrageous; I’m alternating between vomiting my life away and almost blowing my soul out of my nostrils. That’s a lie, I haven’t been sick in five hours, but the point still stands.”
“You’re angry too - less swear-y about it, however.” I looked out of the window at the rainy day and sighed, “We’ll be there at about three. Text me your address and we’ll get on a train to London.”
“You’ve gone completely mad, the train? In the state we’re in? Bring sick bags, medicine and lots of cola.”
“On it, captain.” I saluted to myself in the reflection of the window, “Love you!”
“And I you, my dear.” He hung up and I tried to stand up, getting up too fast and then falling back down, with my head between my legs.
“Shit.”
-
We did arrive at three, barely. Dot had her Peppa Pig umbrella and was dry, but I was shivering violently and when Tom opened the door, the first thing out of his mouth was, “You look like a corpse.”
“Well, that’s all well and good considering you do too.” I wiped my running nose on my soggy sleeve and pushed into the warmth radiating from his house. “How have you fared over these past days?”
He did one of those toothless, sarcastic smiles and with his congested and hoarse sounding voice, replied with a “fabulous.” He then coughed and took my bag from me. “I’d give you the guided tour, but I’m under the impression that you’d rather not and would prefer to warm up?” I nodded, “I’ll get you one of my sweatshirts, follow me.”
The three of us walked into a light blue coloured master bedroom, Dot leaving her belongings in the hallway. I shrugged off my thin, khaki raincoat and kicked off my boots, catching the large Talking Heads emblazoned shirt. Tom strolled out of the room as I removed my jeans and almost see-through from the rain t-shirt and crawled into the one smelling of heat and washing powder. Dot took her coat off and followed me as I threw myself into the large bed, curling into the thick duvets.
He re-entered the room and placed two mugs down on the side of the bed where Dot and myself had placed ourselves, chuckling loudly. “And that’s what I’ve been doing since you last saw me. I even went to that meeting, despite the nausea.” The bed moved a little as he sat down, putting his green mug down. “I hope that shirt’s warm enough, I can get you something else if needs be?”
“No, this is fine, thank you!” I said, my voice muffled by the blankets, “I love Talking Heads, so, this is making me happy!” I poked my head out, “Do you have Stop Making Sense on DVD?” He nodded, a smirk rising on his face, “Can we watch it later?”
“We’ll watch it with Chinese takeaway?” He said, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s a great idea, sir.” I looked under the covers and found Dot at the end, “Chinese food sound good?” She grinned and slid up between us. “Your ideas are magic.”
“Meanwhile, daytime TV?” He turned on the television that was in a hole in the wall. I sniffed the drinks he’d made, “Breakfast tea, 2 sugars, lots of milk and a hot chocolate?”
“You know us well.” Dot said, making grabby hands in the direction of the red mug smelling of chocolate. Tom ruffled Dot’s blonde hair and flipped through the channels, settling on reruns of Rosemary & Thyme. “Oh no, not those old ladies! Nana watches this when she looks after me!”
I placed my finger on Dot’s lips, “Respect your elders, young Dot – these nosy ladies find the most random of crimes and without them, we’d probably have been killed by a rogue chemist by now.” Tom nodded slowly as he sipped on his tea. I slid further up, my upper back resting on the headboard. I reached out for my tea, but clenched my hand into a fist as I sneezed violently, throwing myself forward and then slamming myself back into the bed. Both Tom and Dot looked at me with wide and confused eyes, I sighed and slid back down, rolling Dot over to the left of my body and curling into Tom’s side.
“As am I.”
“How is Dorothea, the plague bringer?”
“Fine, which has majorly pissed me off. We’re watching Batman because she hates it and I’m angry at her for making me sick.” She jabbed my arm and frowned; “Now she’s giving me a disapproving look for swearing.”
“Yes, you should stop doing that in front of her.” He said, putting the phone down on a hard surface and blowing his nose. He picked it back up, “What even, I cannot deal with this any longer. This is full blown outrageous; I’m alternating between vomiting my life away and almost blowing my soul out of my nostrils. That’s a lie, I haven’t been sick in five hours, but the point still stands.”
“You’re angry too - less swear-y about it, however.” I looked out of the window at the rainy day and sighed, “We’ll be there at about three. Text me your address and we’ll get on a train to London.”
“You’ve gone completely mad, the train? In the state we’re in? Bring sick bags, medicine and lots of cola.”
“On it, captain.” I saluted to myself in the reflection of the window, “Love you!”
“And I you, my dear.” He hung up and I tried to stand up, getting up too fast and then falling back down, with my head between my legs.
“Shit.”
-
We did arrive at three, barely. Dot had her Peppa Pig umbrella and was dry, but I was shivering violently and when Tom opened the door, the first thing out of his mouth was, “You look like a corpse.”
“Well, that’s all well and good considering you do too.” I wiped my running nose on my soggy sleeve and pushed into the warmth radiating from his house. “How have you fared over these past days?”
He did one of those toothless, sarcastic smiles and with his congested and hoarse sounding voice, replied with a “fabulous.” He then coughed and took my bag from me. “I’d give you the guided tour, but I’m under the impression that you’d rather not and would prefer to warm up?” I nodded, “I’ll get you one of my sweatshirts, follow me.”
The three of us walked into a light blue coloured master bedroom, Dot leaving her belongings in the hallway. I shrugged off my thin, khaki raincoat and kicked off my boots, catching the large Talking Heads emblazoned shirt. Tom strolled out of the room as I removed my jeans and almost see-through from the rain t-shirt and crawled into the one smelling of heat and washing powder. Dot took her coat off and followed me as I threw myself into the large bed, curling into the thick duvets.
He re-entered the room and placed two mugs down on the side of the bed where Dot and myself had placed ourselves, chuckling loudly. “And that’s what I’ve been doing since you last saw me. I even went to that meeting, despite the nausea.” The bed moved a little as he sat down, putting his green mug down. “I hope that shirt’s warm enough, I can get you something else if needs be?”
“No, this is fine, thank you!” I said, my voice muffled by the blankets, “I love Talking Heads, so, this is making me happy!” I poked my head out, “Do you have Stop Making Sense on DVD?” He nodded, a smirk rising on his face, “Can we watch it later?”
“We’ll watch it with Chinese takeaway?” He said, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s a great idea, sir.” I looked under the covers and found Dot at the end, “Chinese food sound good?” She grinned and slid up between us. “Your ideas are magic.”
“Meanwhile, daytime TV?” He turned on the television that was in a hole in the wall. I sniffed the drinks he’d made, “Breakfast tea, 2 sugars, lots of milk and a hot chocolate?”
“You know us well.” Dot said, making grabby hands in the direction of the red mug smelling of chocolate. Tom ruffled Dot’s blonde hair and flipped through the channels, settling on reruns of Rosemary & Thyme. “Oh no, not those old ladies! Nana watches this when she looks after me!”
I placed my finger on Dot’s lips, “Respect your elders, young Dot – these nosy ladies find the most random of crimes and without them, we’d probably have been killed by a rogue chemist by now.” Tom nodded slowly as he sipped on his tea. I slid further up, my upper back resting on the headboard. I reached out for my tea, but clenched my hand into a fist as I sneezed violently, throwing myself forward and then slamming myself back into the bed. Both Tom and Dot looked at me with wide and confused eyes, I sighed and slid back down, rolling Dot over to the left of my body and curling into Tom’s side.
♠ ♠ ♠
because David Byrne is a god and this was Tom Hiddleston's song of the day once. i love Talking Heads with my whole heart.
i have died, apologies - got a bit caught up in stuff, which probably explains why this is a filler. until i'm not falling asleep from tea that tastes like pee (probably due to the mouthwash before hand) and serious painkillers, this is probably the best you're gonna get for this story. i love it, but eh.
sorry, i love you. :*