What am I to you? // Corpse Husband

4. Relief

Sunday 6.25am

I feel so comfortable between the sheets. I'm tired too and stretch myself, my hand hitting someone. I open my eyes and am quickly reminded that I am not in my bed when my eyes cross his. He's awake, in the same position I left him. He looks so soft and in an other circumstance, I'd shuffle my way through to him to cuddle in his arms... his arms... shit.

"Morning." I say, realising we are still in this critical situation but trying to sounds relaxed to manage his anxiety. He smiles shyly.

"Morning." Wow! And I thought his voice was deep. He sees the surprise on my face. "Oh yeah, that's my morning voice." I'm not gonna make a fuss out of this. I don't want him to feel self-conscious.

"Did you manage to get some rest?"

"Yeah, I slept through until a little while ago. I haven't slept that well in a long time. A whole three hours!"

"Good. How do you feel?"

"I can move my fingers and my wrist in my other arm now." He shows me. "But one arm comes back and the other one goes."

"I still think we should go to the hospital."

"They won't do anything there." He says deflated.

"We need to see a doctor. Let me call someone." As he rolls on his back, I see him trying to push himself up with his legs.

Kneeling next to him, I help him sit down and shuffle against the headboard.

"Thanks." He coughs.

"Are you thirsty?"

"A little."

After leaning across him to grab the glass on his bedside table, I see him suddenly looking uncomfortable when I sit back, not knowing where to look. I was pretty close I guess, in my pyjamas, and I'm not wearing a bra, but he couldn't see... Could he? Looking down, I notice that he probably saw and I now feel inadequate too but still help him to drink.

Once done, I put the glass on my side of the bed – no need to parade – and pick up my phone and hoodie, walking out of his room.

"Hey Danny... Sorry it's a bit early... Oh good... listen... Yes, yes I'm good thanks. I have a bit of an emergency. My friend is experiencing numbness in his arms. No it's not a stroke. He has Fibromyalgia... Corticosteroids and Pregabalin... Mmh... Okay... Okay... See you soon." Finishing the call I come back in. "Let's get ready."

"Where are we going?"

"Clinic. A friend owes me a favour." Slowly I see awkwardness rising in his expression. "Do you need help?"

"I feel like I should be okay but... you might need to help me brushing my teeth." He says standing up by himself.

"Shit! My teeth."

"I have spare toothbrushes."

"Thanks."

I grab his brace from the armchair and place it on his newly numb arm. I grab his now good hand and squeeze it. He squeezes back but it's still weak.

"Wow! That's pretty good. Can you move your elbow?"

He lifts his forearm focusing. I massage his upper arm.

"Do you feel that?"

"Yeah." I smile and he smiles back. "Still not strong though, but at least I can move it."

"You get ready as much as you can and call me when you need help."

"Okay."

I walk out and head to his kitchen to make some coffee. I look around and can only find coffee flavoured drinks in the fridge. Damn! I need coffee. I'll stop by a coffee shop on the way to the clinic. Checking my phone while sitting on the sofa, I hear him.