Distance
Broken.
The next six months were a blur of happiness. Danica and I were inseparable. It got to a point where she was basically living at my house, and I couldn't have been more content to wake up each morning holding her.
***
My eyes fluttered open. A few faint rays of sunlight were creeping in the window, and Danica was curled naked on my chest, watching me.
"What's wrong?" I whispered.
"I'm cold." She replied.
I skimmed a finger down her arm, feeling goosbumps. My brow furrowed. I was actually too warm. It was the middle of August, and we were in the middle of a heat wave; the air was thick and muggy.
"But it's like, a thousand degrees out, baby." I said, pulling the sheets tighter around her.
"I know."
I leapt out of bed, grabbing a coverlet and tossing it over her.
"What's wrong? Are you sick?" I asked, wishing that Ollie hadn't taken that cruise in the Carribbean. She would know what to do.
"I think so. Do you have a thermometer?" Danica asked weakly.
I tore out of my room, returning in moments to stick the thermometer under her tongue and cradle her in my arms as we waited in silence for the mercury to crawl upwards in its glass prison.
"Shit." Her voice was hoarse. "112 degrees."
"Fuck."
"Um. I think we'd better get to a hospital." Danica said. "You wanna hand me some clothes?"
But I was frozen in fear, cradling her in my arms. She looked up at me, and I could see my fears reflected in her eyes.
"Billie, babe, we need to get to a hospital. And I need to put on some clothes before we do that. Okay?"
I nodded clumsily, and stumbled towards my closet.
***
My eyes fluttered open. A few faint rays of sunlight were creeping in the window, and Danica was curled naked on my chest, watching me.
"What's wrong?" I whispered.
"I'm cold." She replied.
I skimmed a finger down her arm, feeling goosbumps. My brow furrowed. I was actually too warm. It was the middle of August, and we were in the middle of a heat wave; the air was thick and muggy.
"But it's like, a thousand degrees out, baby." I said, pulling the sheets tighter around her.
"I know."
I leapt out of bed, grabbing a coverlet and tossing it over her.
"What's wrong? Are you sick?" I asked, wishing that Ollie hadn't taken that cruise in the Carribbean. She would know what to do.
"I think so. Do you have a thermometer?" Danica asked weakly.
I tore out of my room, returning in moments to stick the thermometer under her tongue and cradle her in my arms as we waited in silence for the mercury to crawl upwards in its glass prison.
"Shit." Her voice was hoarse. "112 degrees."
"Fuck."
"Um. I think we'd better get to a hospital." Danica said. "You wanna hand me some clothes?"
But I was frozen in fear, cradling her in my arms. She looked up at me, and I could see my fears reflected in her eyes.
"Billie, babe, we need to get to a hospital. And I need to put on some clothes before we do that. Okay?"
I nodded clumsily, and stumbled towards my closet.