FicWad

Cool pressure on his forehead made him open his eyes and he squinted, trying to blink the girl hovering over him into one coherent person. He frowned, trying to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. He thought he remembered running, looking for her, trying to call her name and not being able to make his voice work. He reached out for her clumsily and she hesitated, but took his hand.

"Where were you?" he rasped, and it surprised him how easily his voice slipped from his throat and how loud it seemed to his ears, though it was hoarse and papery. "I was looking for you everywhere."

"I was here," she answered, her perpetually-serious face creasing into a frown. She looked concerned, he thought suddenly, and was proud of himself for identifying the emotion.

"I couldn't find you," he whispered, his eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. He began to realize that his whole body burned, that his muscles were weak and uncooperative, and a dim realization settled into his foggy brain that he must be sick, that he must have a fever.

"You were dreaming," she said. "I've been right here all the time."

Of course, he thought to himself. Of course it was a dream. She wouldn't leave him. He tried to pull her hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers, but his muscles wouldn't cooperate and he ended up barely even able to squeeze her hand a little tighter. He drifted back into a fitful sleep, unable to determine whether he spoke aloud or merely in his fever-soaked imagination when he told her how beautiful she was.

Even after he was well, she never mentioned it, and he never grew brave enough to ask. He hoped she knew anyway.