Until next time {H.S.}

23. One second I promise.

  "I'm fine Harry." My throat feeling like sand paper as I  throw off a comforter for the third time this morning. My throat aches as I cough into my hand.

  Other than a gnarly headache a stuffy sinus and aching throat.

  "No. You aren't." He strides from the other side of the room, bring the sheet back over me, now crouched to my level. His fingers fumble with the buttons of a top eyes focused as he pops the last one into place.

  "I am." My fingers toy with the sheet, like a child.

  "Care bear," disbelief clear in his tone. "You don't even need to come for this I'm doing a fast sound check and then I'll be back. You do not have the energy for this. I'll be there and here as fast as you can blink." He smiles fondly worry etched in his forehead. He smooths hair off my sweaty forehead. A soft forehead kiss, I wish made me feel better.

  "I'm sick don't do that. If you get sick I'm going to be in a lot of trouble." I scold, a devious smile appearing as he does it once more. "Stop." My throat creaks and his eyes look over my face.

  "Maybe I shouldn't go." He clutches keys in hand.

  "No go I'll be fine remember you will be back before I blink." I widen my eyes for emphasis.

"Okay." He hesitantly stands. Walking towards the door. "Bye."

"Have fun!" I call out to him laying back flat on the mattress.

  "How could I? I'll be missing you the whole time." He yells back the smile on his face apparent.

  The door creaks open and shut, the scratch in the back of my throat finally to much to hold in. When the room is completely still I realize the silence. Being on tour is being everywhere at once, loud noise always arising from the moment you see venues to sound check and then night of the event. It's almost odd laying on a mattress by myself no other sound but my almost wheezing breathing.

I can feel the cotton sheets encasing me in a softness as I lay in partly cloudy skies. My body so exhausted from running place to place from late nights to early mornings. I turn my head looking at the empty space beside me. A memory flashing in my head of late night talks with sleeping hearts, open minds, holding hands.

There I lay for some time thoughts on my mind not able to be processed from other things constantly taking up my brain power. I shut my eyes and just breath. It's crazy to think only some time ago I was at a normal job with a boring life and a sweet lady at a laundry mat. Things I still love but see less of now a days. I would be lying if I said I miss slow days sometimes.

Sacrifice comes with loving what you do. Nothing good comes easy. It's digging your heels in and keeping your head on your shoulders.

So I take the moment to breath everything in and out and clear my mind. My time rarely spent alone I no longer know what to do with myself. There's almost a familiarity to noise that I don't have. My body aches though I tried to deny it exhaustion taking over. I shut my eyes once more sure to wake as soon as I hear the door.

~~~

  My eyes open, rested on his abdomen his hand threaded through my hair. He holds a book in hand a shirt misplaced. My throat feels raw I lift my head from him coughing away. Thing is I heard the door but then sleep called me back and I felt the bed dip so I moved closer but everything was so heavy I was so tired.

  "Hey, Rosey. I got you some water here." He leans up bringing the cup to me. I try to hold it myself only to find he's going to assist me anyways. I swallow even water feeling like sand grating at the back of my throat.