Sick Day/Snowed In - Milo Next (Patreon)

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Milo was banging his head against the frosted window, pressing his fingers to the glass like a little boy, disappointed that he couldn’t go out and play.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” I had a blanket wrapped around me and was peering out at Milo through the very small expanse that I allowed for my eyes and nose. “We could still get home.”

“Sure,” Milo said with a bob of his head. “If, you know, we had a sled of dogs that breathed fire to melt the massive amount of snow that is piling up everywhere.”

“That’s really specific.”

“It’s the only way we’re getting out of here, darlin’.” Turning, he opened his mouth to complain further about the snow that was accumulating outside our little makeshift vacation home.  His jaw clicked shut the second he laid eyes on me, however. It was a true testament to how pathetic I probably looked.

“Fuck, you’re not doing any better, huh?”

“I’m fine.” And to prove the point that I was fine, I began coughing wildly, doubling over and holding my stomach tightly as pain shot through me.  There was a cold sweat that had doubled as an unbearable heat, coursing through my veins. Ignoring it had yet to make it go away but given that we were now stuck behind a frozen sea, I wasn’t quite sure what else I was supposed to do.

Warm and dry hands snuck beneath the comforter, running up my arms and wrapping around the back of my neck and skull. “Breathe,” Milo whispered. With each breath, I coughed something wet and rattly. Trying to hide my face into the crook of my arm was futile, as my limbs didn’t seem to want to do what I told them to. Milo only brought my head closer to his shoulder, letting me use his soft sweater to hack a lung into.

It passed before long, my head feeling light and fuzzy and while I tried to pull back to collapse on the couch, I couldn’t seem to move.  My skin felt far too heated and itchy and my mind was not understanding the commands I was trying to give to pull back.

“You have a fever,” Milo stated.

“Which seems ridiculous given that the entire market is frozen,” I groused. Shouldn’t we be going through a heat wave or something if I had a fever? There should have been tropical beaches outside our door. Not glittering expanses of snow.

“No, you like really have a fever.” Shifting my bleary eyes up towards Milo, I didn’t quite process what he was saying. There was concern there that I knew was not normally present in his eyes. The kind that made him look like a frightened child.

Reaching up, I cupped his cheek. “You’ll be okay,” I told him.

“Fuck,” he hissed. I wasn’t sure why. “You are going to hate me.”

He got up so abruptly that I fell a little forward, only catching myself by leaning sideways onto the sofa. I curled the blanket tighter around me, and I was somehow now tipped to my side, shivering through the latest bout of chills.  Milo was somewhere. Maybe he had run away again. He liked doing that when he got scared.  Fight or flight and Milo tried not to fight because when he did, things got bloody.

Plus, you couldn’t really fight disease. Not with fists, anyway. Which was Milo’s preferred method of action.

“Come on, darlin’.” Milo’s voice came back to me as he picked me up, slipping his arms beneath my back and knees.  He lifted me effortlessly, and I snuggled my face into the crook of his neck. Milo always smelled good. A feat I didn’t know how he achieved, given the state of his own home. But I breathed him in, filling my senses with the faint scent of amber and bergamot. He was always warm as well.

“Thought you would be in the snow,” I murmured. “You love the snow.”

“I do,” he agreed.

“Want to go for a walk out there?” I asked sleepily.

“Nah,” he said. “I think you’re not going to like snow much in a few minutes.” He brought me into the bathroom. There was a small wooden stool that he sat me on, steadying me as I began to tip to the side again. I frowned. He didn’t bring my blanket.

“Are you undressing me?” I asked, feeling his fingers brush across the bare skin of my belly.

“I assure you, I wish it was in an entirely different way.”

“Oh,” I said, not quite understanding. All I knew was that he picked me up again, and he was warm and felt nice and then holy fucking hell the world was nothing but ice.

My eyes shot open as I flailed my arms, a sharp gasp ripping through my chest.  Milo’s hands were steady on my shoulder, holding me down. As I looked around, I realized he had placed me in the bath. Bits of snow floated in the water.

“I know,” he said with a grimace. “You can pay me back however you want, but your fever is scary high, darlin’, and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Cold fluids,” I said with a gasp. “Ice packs. A billion other things than this.” He still held me steady.

“I did that,” he told me.

“No you did not.”

Dipping his head low, he stared at me, eyes round.  “I did. I’ve been trying to get your fever down for an hour.”

I stopped. I had vague recollections of drinking something. Maybe something cool against my forehead? It was as if the fever burned the memory out of me. The ice coiled around me, soothing the aching heat that had caused me to shiver and while I was still shaking, it felt for an entirely different reason.

“Just a few more minutes,” Milo said. “I don’t want to keep you in here for long.”

I breathed in deeply.  “How bad is the snow?” I asked, teeth beginning to chatter.

“We won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” he said. “Hopefully Mal’s not a fucking idiot and stays home.”

We were supposed to be here on a getaway. A few nights away from the typical little haunts of the market. We had rented this small little cabin on the eastern side of the walls. It overlooked the entirety of the maze like alleys and when the evenings were clear, you could see the different lanterns and the districts they mimicked.  Milo and I had gone ahead with the promise that Malcolm was going to catch up to us in a day or two. After he wrapped some things up with Hazel. Now, all I could think about was him trapped out there.

Milo lifted me from the bath, wrapping me in a soft towel. “Don’t go there,” he murmured to me.

I lifted my gaze to him, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. Instead, he just towled me off before marching me to the living room again. There was a large wrought iron bed that looked out upon floor to ceiling glass windows, hugging the frame of a hearth that Milo had at some point stoked to blazing. I wondered if he had left me in the bath to do this or if he had it going the entire time.

Tucking me into the bed, he went over to the hearth, tossing on a few logs before stripping his suspenders down and pulling his shirt from his trousers. He had put on a little weight the last few years. Looking far healthier than before, as he packed on fat and muscle and honed his body once more. He caught my look then and that slow and easy smile edged over his face.

“Darlin’, you need to get some rest. I deny you access to this body until you’re better.”

“I can still look,” I pointed out.

He shucked his pants off with a flourish, causing a snort of laughter to escape me. It immediately set the pounding in my head to nightmare mode.  Wincing, I closed my eyes against the pain. I felt the blankets lift then, as Milo curled in, wrapping his bare body around mine.

We shifted for a minute until we were both laying on our sides, me tucked up to his front.  He ran his nose across the shell of my ear. “Get some sleep,” he murmured. “I got you.”

“You won’t leave?” I could feel him wince when I asked. The last time I had been this sick, I had awoken to an empty room. Not seeing him again until we became pawns at a ball.

“I won’t leave,” he said, holding me tighter. “I never want to leave you again. Now, get some sleep.”

Curling against him, I watched the fire. The flames dancing higher and higher. And in the circle of Milo’s arms, I felt my body succumb to rest.