Ignite

Lean on Me, and Let Me Bear the Weight of Your Pain

A pounding migraine greeted Alessandro as he awoke from a fitful slumber. His throat felt scratchy. Each swallow made it feel like glass was traveling down his esophagus. Brunet curls and loose clothing stuck to his sweaty body. Rhythmic thumping could be heard in his ears. It could also be felt in his sinuses thanks to a steadily worsening buildup of mucus.

Even with the room being protected by thick blackout curtains, any light that made its way past the fabric's openings was too bright—too painful to look at.

In an attempt to get a better grasp on himself, Alessandro took a deep breath. His inhale shifted into a gurgling wheeze that ended in a violent coughing fit.

Great.

He just had to get sick on the day of an important meeting.

It wasn't clear whether or not he had a fever, but he assumed that was what ailed him as everything felt hot. He was much warmer than what could rightfully be considered healthy.

The rational part of his brain told him to check his temperature to understand how bad the illness was. Another much larger part of him didn't want to acknowledge that he was horrendously sick.

Today wasn't one of those days where he could stay at home. That luxury couldn't be afforded— not when the schedule was so busy. Not when people needed and depended on him at work.

Stiff muscles screamed in protest with every slight movement. Green eyes were kept squinted as a means of trying to ignore bright light. Each pound in reddened ears exacerbated an already unpleasant migraine. Quiet footsteps were too loud. A usually tall, confident stature was drooped in clear discomfort.

This was definitely not a good start to the morning.

Raspy meows called after Alessandro on his way to the bathroom. He found it pathetic how even that was too much for him.

"It's okay, baby girl." His voice came out much hoarser than he thought it would. "Papa's just going to take a shower. Hopefully that'll help."

Cold bathroom tiles felt exquisite on the soles of his bare feet. An encompassing chilly temperature lingered in the room though. He shivered. Goosebumps ran up and down trembling arms.

Alessandro didn't bother turning on the light. His eyes were already accustomed to the dark, and he didn't want to risk worsening his migraine. Instead, he focused on getting to the stand up shower without collapsing like he desperately wanted to.

The shower head was switched from its normal setting to a softer one. Water came out almost silently and appeared like mist. Its temperature was kept on the cooler side. Sweat stained clothes were left on the padded bath mat near the shower's sliding door.

Harsh shivers became even more violent. Nausea began building. Every single uncomfortable sensation that Alessandro was feeling followed him into the shower.

*

He was glad to be wearing a face mask each time a particularly wet cough couldn't be stifled. Green eyes were focused on the floor as a means of ignoring the elevator's blinding light. White bulbs weren't that bright, but anything that wasn't total darkness hurt his head. Each blink brought about a moment of clarity before his vision started swimming again. It led to a series of sluggish, more frequent gestures of keeping his eyes closed.

Trembling fingers tightened around the handle of the briefcase once the elevator opened. Usually, Alessandro didn't mind the hustle and bustle of the office on Mondays. Today, he wanted to stick cotton in his ears to dampen every sound he could.

The facade of Mr. Bale attempted to stay in place by ignoring some worrying fever symptoms. Flushing of the face was hidden behind a literal mask. A thick trench coat hid a shivering torso and arms. Glossy, unfocused eyes were shielded by staying half lidded.