by Matthew Williams/Canada Mon Sep 27, 2010 6:21 am
Matthew didn’t dream. His mind and body were simply too exhausted to conjure anything, even mentally. But there was… something….
He could hear a faint voice but was unable to decipher the words as they floated in and out. Whatever it was, it was beautiful and he hoped it didn’t stop. There was something else to. A damp, coolness pressed to his skin, granting him a little reprieve from the heat of his fever and a small, thankful sigh escaped his lips, his conscious slipping deeper into sleep. “Kat…”
It was already dark when Matthew finally stirred. It was winter of course so it got dark early anyways, but he was sure it was later in the evening, probably after dinner time. With a deep inhale, his eyes opened blearily to the room, wondering why he was in a comely, antique modeled home and not the Rush and Pamela Anderson poster’d walls of his dorm.
Oh right… I’m house sitting with Katyusha…
He felt like stone, heavy, like he’d stayed in the same position for too long. Stretching, body popping and groaning, he paused confused as to why his legs could barely move. He shifted up onto his elbows, blinking at the blankets cocooning around him, then frowned trying to remember. The last thing he recalled was slumping onto the couch… and onto Katyusha’s shoulder, he flushed embarrassedly.
Katyusha must have covered me with them…
Wait, Katyusha!
Matthew shot upwards, then sank back down having gotten up too fast for his head’s liking.
Some help I’ve been. Getting here just to park it on a couch and pass out… Talk about a freeloader… I wonder where she is, she's okay, right? Ah! Where’s my glasses?
He swiveled his head in search, a soft light from a corner lamp caught the frame of his glasses from where they sat on the coffee table; reaching over he plucked them up and placed them back on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with one finger. However it was the item next to his glasses that he studied curiously. The still slightly wet cloth knocked him off guard.
That was Kat…? My fever…!
The corner of Matthew’s mouth twitched as he did an internal inventory. His head still throbbed and his muscles ached like they’d rusted over, but his fever was fading fast. He even felt his stomach give a weak growl for food. Well if anybody had the magic, healing touch, it's Katyusha, he thought with a smile.
The large bay window that the couch he sat on faced, was pitch black with night but he could tell it was snowing again. When the weather calmed Matthew vowed he’d shovel the walk for Katyusha, to make up for quite literally falling asleep on the job. His mental berating continued as he stood, listening for sounds that would give away where Katyusha was. The house was uncannily quiet.
Upstairs or downstairs, that is the question. … Or he could just ask.
“K-Ka…t-!” Matthew’s hand shot up to his throat as he cringed in pain. He swallowed automatically, wincing and eyes watering. Okay, so not only did he have no voice, his throat was viciously raw like he was eating sandpaper. Fan-frigging-tastic.
Well, plan B then.
The stairs creaked lightly as he ascended to the top level, guessing Katyusha would be up here perhaps already settled into a room. He was still a little wobbly and his hand gripped the railing like a lifeline. Smothering a sneeze, he debated which door to knock on first. Maybe Katyusha had called it a night early? He didn’t want to interrupt anything…
*passes out on keyboard* I know there's probably errors but I can't see straight @_@
Pfffft you never write an OOC Kat <3 I think that sounds just like her =3=
Hnnng! Fluff!