Short Story: Savior's Mistress

1360 Words3 Pages

About being unable to spend every night with her, he was sorry. About her being confined to the hospital, he was sorry. He was sorry that her fever never left 104.9 degrees fahrenheit and he was sorry that all he could ever do was hold her hand and wait for her body to heal. There was so little he could do, and now there were only two words that described him: desperate and helpless. Roy rested his head on the edge of the bed. It wasn't a coma she was in, per se, but it was still pretty damn dangerous. Her fever never changed, for better or worse, and she was kept on constant fluids, for both nutrition and hydration. Jamie said that she would get better in time, that this wasn't a coma, and that her body was simply trying to catch up with the events of the past two months. It was harder to believe that statement when he saw her. Everyday, Roy came into Camille's room with breakfast, a book, and a cellphone cradled in his back pocket. At the end of everyday, he would return home with Jamie and go through the standard routine of another lonely night without her. Every night he would suffer through anxiety dreams of her not making it until the morning and every morning he would find her breathing. On the weekends, Adrian would come on Saturday and Jack would come on Sundays. It was a routine they'd been practicing for a month now and while he saw it wearing on his housemates, he felt as devastated and heartbroken as he had at the start of this. A sad truth was that his world revolved around Camille. His moods were so intertwined with hers, that he reacted to every nuance. His hobbies from when he was a teenager had all but faded ever since he became so enraptured with her. He had forgotten what it felt like to play the piano, t... ... middle of paper ... ...mbled. "I wouldn't want to spend my life with anyone else." "Thank you," He sighed. She was adrift in a sea of blue before anything else could be exchanged. [Line Break] Roy's arms wrapped around her and even if her joints ached and she felt hotter than Hell, it was cozy and comforting. The television was a bland background noise that she barely heard, and even if Roy was feeling depressed, he still held her close. Her entire body ached, but at least her legs were functional and her head wasn't pounding. The air-conditioner was on full-blast, but she was wrapped in a blanket. The phone was in Roy's hand and he was talking to Jamie on the other end. She only heard bits and pieces, and when they finally hung up, Roy carefully eased himself out from behind her. "Adrian's coming," He sighed. Camille nodded and snuggled into her pillow, "Okay..."

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