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cut off the rope.

The room was quiet, lit only by the street lights slipping through the poorly closed curtains.

"Sorry, madam. I'm not myself today.."

She hadn’t said much. But there also wasn’t much to say, when she had never been great at offering words of comfort. At best, she would've replied with a snarky remark, one that she bit back in favor of the hug, that ended up lasting longer than she originally thought it would.

Eventually Val had hauled him back into his bedroom, watching him sprawled out beneath the pile of mismatched blankets after the fever had knocked him out cold again.
Now he was back to sleep, breathing uneven and his body radiating an unfamiliar warmth, making the air feel too heavy, a little too thick. Or maybe that was just in her head, because seeing him like this pulled at something inside of her, that she didn’t even want to name.

But so was life, wasn’t it? People got sick. People needed help.
That didn’t change the rules.

He stirred once, whispered something slurred and impossible for her to fully grasp. She didn’t answer. But she stayed as the night stretched, caught between staying too long and leaving too soon.

Only when the fever had eased and his breathing gone back to normal by morning she got up again, stretching her neck that felt stiff from sitting still most of the night. He wasn’t healthy quite yet, but he’d be fine. Probably.

Val didn’t wait for him to wake up, nor did she leave a note before she let herself out of his apartment. - Only the cup of tea, sitting next to the glass of water and a pack of cold meds remained; silent witnesses of this late night’s fever dream.

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𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝
𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊.