But Who's Counting?

Chapter Eighteen: "Family dinner."

SORRY THIS CHAPTER DRAGS BUT WRITERS BLOCK IS A BIIITTTTCHH PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT !!

The next morning, I find myself pressed against Sophia's body. She's sprawled out against me, her body rising with each harsh breath she takes.

When I bought her to her room last night, I cleaned her up and attempted to lay her in her bed. She only sat on the bed and began crying when I told her to call my name if she needed me. I was originally going to go sleep on the opposite couch of Maya, or even her guest bedroom, but my sick baby momma had other plans.

Scared that she would cry until she threw up, I slipped into her bed. She laid on one side while I laid on the other. Sophia was out like a light when I attempted to move so I could check on Maya. By the time I made it downstairs and transferred Maya and her belongings into the guest room, she was in the bathroom throwing up. Mind you, I was only gone for three minutes.

I supported her as she leaned against the stomach, sobbing. She was half asleep, reminding me much like Maya when she was sick- besides the protruding stomach.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth again, falling asleep clutching my arm.

When Sophia was sick, she tended to be very cuddly.

Now, I'm attempting to peel her hot, sticky body off of mine. That doesn't seem to work, though, because she only grips me tighter. Shes hugging me like a human sized teddy bear. Her stomach was propped up on mine and a leg was entangled in mine. Her face was cradled between my neck and shoulder, her breathing hitting my Adam's apple.

Since Sophia won't allow me to get up, not that I'm complaining, I order some soup from Panera bread. It was 1:20 when I woke up, so I think it's time I woke Sophia up, at-least long enough to take some medicine.

I gently shake her while whispering her name. She moves around rubbing her eyes, tiredly, before rolling onto her side. She rolls off of me and I begin to try again.

"Sophia... come on baby." I coax, pulling her hands away from her eyes. Her eyes flutter open as she realizes her surroundings.

"I do not feel good, at all." She huffs.

If she starts crying again, I don't know what I'll do.

"I know. I'm going to get you some medicine."

"Hallway closet, middle shelf in the last basket." She directs, laying back down and chucking her shirt off, leaving her in a sports bra and shorts.

I follow her directions and find the medicine right there. I grab three bottles that read 'safe for pregnancy' and shut the closet. I run downstairs, looking for a water bottle.

I returned to her room, her basically naked body on the bed, the covers kicked off and her body taking up the whole mattress.

"Here, take all of these. They will help you feel better. I'll go pick up more medicine later." I promise, slipping her the pills and water.

"When did you get here?"

"Around 4:30 this morning. How are you feeling?" I responded, picking up her covers and beginning to fold them. She presses the back of her hand to her forehead and another one to her stomach.

"I'm awfully hot. In both ways." She winks at me before frowning. I laugh at her playful joke before turning my attention back to her illness.

I, personally, think it would be better if I took her to the hospital but I know she is going to refuse against it. Maybe I should let it play out until she decides she wants to.

"You are."

"I feel like I'm going to die."

".. Do you want to go to the hospital?"