Third Person's PoV
Sky awoke, her body slick with the chill of cold sweats. She curled into a tight ball, seeking solace in the embrace of her soft blanket and the surrounding fluffy pillows.
Her head throbbed with pain, and a fiery sensation scorched her throat—a telltale sign of sickness. With heavy eyelids, she cracked open her eyes, a desperate search for her beloved stuffie, Bren, beginning. The absence of the blanket's warmth made her shiver, her body trembling against the intrusion of the cold air.
"Where's m-my Bren?" she murmured into the stillness, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands fumbled through the tangled sea of blankets and pillows, hoping to find Bren hidden within their folds.
As she clutched her aching head, too preoccupied with her search, the door creaked open, revealing Kian. In his hands, he carried a tray, his presence a silent promise of comfort.
The scent of pancakes and bacon wafted through the air, a comforting aroma that usually brought a smile to Sky's face. However, this morning was different; a throbbing pain pulsed in her head, and Bren's absence only added to her unease.
Kian, ever attentive, noticed her discomfort immediately as he set a tray on the bedside table. "What's wrong, baby?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.
Sky could only pout in response, her hand instinctively rising to her forehead. "M-my head hurts," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.
Kian's eyes softened, a wave of worry washing over his features. He tenderly removed her hand, replacing it with his own as he examined her more closely.
A heavy sigh escaped him, and Sky found solace in the warmth of his hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be enveloped by the familiar scent of his aftershave. It was a small comfort, but a welcome one.
"You can still smell me, baby? Hmm?" Kian's voice was a soft murmur in her right ear, teasing yet tender.
A blush crept onto Sky's cheeks, and she nodded, her embarrassment evident even with her eyes closed.
"Oh, my Little Sky, it's okay. It just tells me that your cold isn't that bad," Kian reassured her with another sigh, his tone gentle.
"But, I just… I just smelled your faint smell, it's like t-ten percent out of a hundred percent," Sky stammered, her voice faltering as she explained. "I s-sneezed earlier too, and I coughed too."
Kian's palms traced small, soothing circles on the small of Sky's back, a gesture that eased the tension from her body. "Ssh, it's alright. I'm here, I'll take care of you," he murmured, his voice a soft blanket of reassurance. "Do you think you can eat your breakfast and then I'll get your meds again? You need to rest."
Sky's eyes fluttered open, the sight of the food tray stirring a mix of emotions. The pancakes and bacon, usually her favorites, now seemed like an insurmountable challenge. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, fear of sickness holding her appetite hostage.
"I…I don't wanna eat," she managed to say, her voice a fragile whisper.
For a moment, Kian's comforting motion paused, his concern deepening. "Baby, you need to eat. You need food to battle this cold," he insisted gently. "My little Sky, who's my brave girl, huh?"
With a pout, Sky summoned a sliver of defiance. "I a-am."
Kian hummed in approval, his voice a melody of encouragement. "Then my good girl will eat her breakfast and take her meds, am I understood?"
A nod, small and tentative, was her reply. "Yes," she whispered.
"That's my brave and good girl," Kian praised, his touch resuming its calming rhythm on her back.
Sky's confusion was palpable as she inquired about Clade's whereabouts, her voice trembling with the effort of speech. "Where's Clade?" she asked, the memory of Kian's cousin surfacing in her mind. "And I'm missing Bren, can't find him. W-where did you place Bren?"
Kian's laughter was a soft vibration against her hair. "Clade is still here, and Bren is with him," he explained, his amusement clear.
Sky's mouth opened, but no sound emerged; her pout deepened. "Why is my Bren w-with Clade?" she finally managed to articulate.
"Because, according to my—handsome cousin, Bren loves him and he'll cuddle with it forever. Those are his words, not mine, baby," Kian replied, his chuckles filling the room. "And for the record, my cousin is really obsessed with stuffies. What can I do? When he saw you cuddling Bren last night, he waited for you to fall asleep, then he stole Bren from your arms."
A huff of frustration escaped Sky as her head throbbed with pain. She reached up to clutch her head, but Kian's hands were quicker, enveloping her in a gentle massage, his lips leaving soft kisses on her hair.
"T-then why didn't you save Bren?" Sky pouted, her question laced with a mix of hurt and playfulness.
As Kian's hands continued their therapeutic dance on Sky's head, he chuckled at her innocent inquiry. "My Little Sky, you have yet to understand my cousin. When he claims a stuffie, it's a battle you're bound to lose," he said, his touch as comforting as his presence.
Sky couldn't help but groan, a sound of pure contentment. The sensation was blissful, a stark contrast to the confusion swirling in her mind.
"Is he… gay?" she blurted out, curiosity getting the better of her before she could censor the thought.
Kian's movements halted, and a hearty laugh erupted from him. "My baby, what an idea! Clade, gay? He doesn't swing that way, love. If you tell that to him, he'd probably tickle you into submission just for the fun of it."
"But t-then why did he take Bren? And you said he... loves stuffies," Sky pressed, her confusion evident.
She furrowed her brows and tilted her head, prompting Kian's hands to gently follow her movements.
"Darling, Clade isn't gay. I have nothing against the LGBT+ community, but that's simply not who he is," Kian clarified, his laughter subsiding to a warm chuckle. "I've known him since we were infants, and I'm privy to all his secrets."
"M-mmkay," Sky murmured, her energy waning with each passing second.
"Eat your breakfast now, baby. And then I'll go get your meds," Kian said, his voice a steady anchor in her haze of fatigue.
Sky nodded weakly, her mind racing for a way to avoid the meal. Yet, Kian's words echoed in her thoughts, reminding her that she was his good girl, and good girls needed their strength. With a resigned breath, she prepared to face the breakfast tray, knowing that nourishment was the first step toward regaining her vitality.
Sky's voice was a soft murmur, barely above a whisper, "Kian?"
Kian responded with a gentle hum, his large hands comforting as they moved from her head down to her back. "I need to ask you, may I visit my parents' home?"
She nibbled on her lower lip, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "Why would you need my...p-permission?"
He let out a weary sigh, setting aside the tray of food on the table and tenderly brushing a stray hair from her ear. "Because I don't want you to feel neglected or think that I didn't consider your feelings. You are my priority. I just need to check on my mother's health. The storm has passed, and the roads are clear. It's a safe journey now, and it won't take more than an hour and a half. My cousin will keep you company while I'm gone."
With a hesitant motion, Sky took a bite of the bacon, her voice trembling slightly. "Please a-apologize to your mother for me, for you being here with me instead of with her. And t-tell her I said she seems very sweet. Your father, he appeared quite formidable, but you bear such a...r-resemblance to him, Kian! It's endearing." Her words tumbled out in a nervous rush.
Kian chuckled softly, ruffling her hair affectionately before planting a kiss on her forehead as he stood up. "Of course, I will. But when did you meet my parents? You seem to know them quite well."
A blush crept up Sky's cheeks as she took another syrupy bite of her pancake. "I… I saw their photos on your phone yesterday. P-please don't be upset," she whispered.
He tousled her hair once more, eliciting a pout from Sky as she continued to enjoy her breakfast.
Sky sat alone, the remnants of breakfast cooling on the tray beside her. She had tried to eat, to please Kian, but her stomach twisted in knots, refusing another bite. The room felt too large without him, the walls closing in with each tick of the clock. Twenty minutes had crawled by since he left, and with each passing second, her anxiety grew, a relentless tide threatening to pull her under.
Her head throbbed, a relentless drumbeat echoing her racing thoughts. Why hadn't Kian returned? The questions spiraled, each more painful than the last. Was she too childish, too much of a burden? The cruel whispers of doubt told her she was unwanted, unlovable.
Tears blurred her vision, and she fought to stifle the sobs that clawed their way up her throat. Her hands, trembling, wiped at her eyes, but the tears were relentless. It felt as if a boulder were lodged inside her skull, pounding against her temples with merciless force.
Curled up on the bed, she was a portrait of despair, her body shaking with sobs and hiccups, her head cradled in her palms as if to hold herself together. The absence of Kian's comforting presence was a physical ache, a void where once there was warmth.
In the midst of her turmoil, Sky clutched at the one anchor she had — Bren, her beloved stuffie. With each ragged breath, she sought the solace of memories, of Disney movies watched and pancakes shared, of dimpled smiles and gentle reassurances. But even as she yearned for Kian's return, a small voice within whispered of strength, of the resilience that had carried her this far.
Sky's world had shrunk to a single, devastating thought: Kian didn't want her. The realization struck her like a relentless storm, each repetition of the words hammering against her consciousness, echoing in the hollows of her mind. It felt like an eternity, each second stretching out endlessly as she grappled with the pain.
Her hands were clasped tightly around her head, as if trying to hold together the fragments of her shattered thoughts. Time seemed to have lost all meaning, and the room around her faded into nothingness, leaving her alone with her despair.
Suddenly, the door burst open with a force that jolted Sky from her tormented reverie. She remained motionless, her posture unchanged, a statue of anguish. It was Clade's voice that broke the silence, his presence unexpected.
"Sky, what's wrong?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.
But Sky's heart ached for another. Where was Kian? His absence was a gaping void that no one else could fill.
***
Mary Joye.