Aurora
After Sam's outburst before he left for tour, I knew it was best to give him space. Yes, it would be a long time before I saw him again but staying would have only aggravated his annoyance. He needed time to cool down. He would call me when he was ready to talk. And he had.
"I'm sorry, darlin'," he had told me over the phone. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I wish I was there to make it up to you."
"It's alreet, Sam," I had assured him. "I shouldn't've kept on."
That has been almost six weeks ago now and I hadn't seen him since. Even though my hours at the Surf Cafe were flexible, I wasn't able to get the time off to go to Sam's gig in Newcastle. I couldn't bring myself to quit just yet either. I knew it wasn't exactly a backup but it was good to be able to earn some money. Sam was due home at any time. I hadn't been able to speak to him in four days as he, in typical Sam fashion, had broken his charger.
"I thought Sam was meant to be home yesterday?" my dad inquired as he cleared the plates from the table.
"Nah, today," I told him.
"Really? Could have sworn yer said the twenty-first," he frowned.
I let out a quiet snort, "Always been the twenty-second, dad. What's wrong? Missing him that much, are yer?"
"The Toon are playing in a couple of hours, can't be watching it by myself now, can I?" he shrugged.
"Aye, alreet," I scoffed. "There's nee way you're stealing my boyfriend after being away for a month and a half to watch the footy."
"It's a league game!" he exclaimed.
"Yer got nee chance," I laughed. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, putting an end to our conversation. I dug it out, my light smile contorting into a tight line as I read Shirley's name on the screen. Quickly pressing the accept button, I brought the phone to my ear, uttering out a concerned, "Hello?"
"Scarlett?" Sam coughed.
"Sam?" I replied.
"Hello," he mumbled.
"Y'alreet, babe? Yer don't sound the best," I frowned.
"Just a lil' under the weather," he sniffled.
"Only a little?" I asked, the crease between my brows deepening as he broke into a coughing fit.
"I'll be fine, darlin'," he assured me.
"Well, at least your mam's there I suppose," I muttered.
"Er..." Sam trailed.
"Er, what?" I demanded. "Your mam is there, reet? Of course, she is. Yer wouldn't have her phone otherwise."
"Her and Ronnie have gone away for the night, she left her phone here," he admitted sheepishly. "She probably assumed I'd stay over yours or sommat."
"Sam- alreet, gimme half an hour and I'll be over," I told him gently.
"No," he wheezed. "Don't come over, you're gan get sick."
A fond smile tugged at the corners of my lips at his concern. "I'll be fine. Besides, I can't leave yer on your own now, can I?"
"Yer don't need to," he assured me.
"Don't be so daft," I murmured, running a hand through my matted locks. "Do yer want anything before I leave?"
"No, thanks," he mumbled.
"Areet, I won't be long now," I spoke softly, waiting for his hum of reply before ending the call.
"What's wrong?" my dad inquired as he placed the last dish on the rack and dried his hands in the tea towel that hung on the oven door.
"Ahh, nowt," I shrugged. "Sam's not well, s'all and Shirley's away, so I'm gan stay with him tonight. I guess you're gan have to watch the game by yourself."
"Tell him he's a traitor," he scowled playfully.
"Aye, alreet," I snorted, pushing myself up from the kitchen table and making my way out to the hall to slip my coat on. Although it was March and spring was upon us, I lived in the Northeast. It wasn't cold enough to warrant four different layers of clothing but it wasn't warm enough to get away with not wearing at least a thin jacket. "I'm off, dad! I'll see yer tomorrow!"
"Tarra, love!" he yelled from the kitchen.
Closing the front door behind me, I began the short trek to Sam's flat, narrated mostly by silence and the occasional natter of children out to play on one of the two days they had free from school. I passed by a couple of people that I knew, one girl that I was in my year at John Spence and an older man, who was a friend of my dad's, offering them a friendly greeting in passing.
Once I reached the block of flats Sam and Shirley lived in, I didn't bother knocking the door, not wanting to disturb my boyfriend. Instead, I pushed down on the door handle, thankful it was left unlocked and swung the door open, calling out, "Sam?"
"In my room!" he coughed weakly, his voice muffled by the walls and door he hid behind.
"I'll be reet there now," I told him as I made a beeline to the kitchen. Searching through the cupboard, I pulled out some painkillers as well as some Covonia before flicking the kettle on.
"Rory," he whined loudly, "Hurry up."
"I'll be there in a minute, babe," I laughed lightly, making him a cup of hot, blackcurrant squash. It might have been an old wives' tale but I always felt better after it. With my hands full, I made my way to Sam's room, carefully not to spill the hot liquid as I pushed the door open. "Hiya, love."
My heart melted at the sight of my boyfriend, who I hadn't seen for a month and a half, nestled up under his duvet, looking worse for wear as he broke into a coughing fit. His body, when it wasn't being racked with coughs, was taunted by shivers. That was the thing though, there was no way he could have been cold, he was balled up under a thick duvet.
"Hi," he croaked, blinking to keep his heavy eyes open.
"How yer feeling?" I asked with a sympathetic frown as I took a seat on the edge of his bed and passed him the painkillers and cough medicine.
"Like pure shit," he grumbled, quickly swallowing two tablets and washing them down with the squash I offered him. His mouth upturned when his eyes landed on the Covonia and his nose scrunched up in disgust. "Have I really got to take that?"
"If yer wanna get better, yeah, ya do," I told him. His bottom lip jutted out into a pout as he passed me the glass so he could open the medicine, not bothering with the syringe I had grabbed, instead just necking it back. "Sam!"
"That's fuckin' lifting!" he gagged, stealing the squash back and downing at least half of it.
"You're a twat," I muttered as I grabbed the bottle from his hand and screwed the lid back on, discarding it on the side along with Sam's glass.
"Cheers," he wheezed, an amused smile spreading across his features.
"Babe, are yer sure you're alreet?" I frowned as I placed the back of my hand flat against his forehead and quickly pulled it away. "Jesus, Sam! You're boiling!"
"I'm fine," he mumbled. "I just need cuddles and some sleep, I'll be reet in a few hours."
My lips pulled into a tight line as I studied his sickly appearance, doubting his claims that he was 'fine'. He certainly didn't look it. "Areet but if you're like this in a couple of hours, you're gan to the doctors."
"It's just the flu, I'll be fine, Scarl," he assured me, wincing in pain as he took a deep breath of air.
"It could be sommat worse though," I muttered. "That's the only compromise I'll make, Sam."
"Okay, fine," he agreed reluctantly. "Can we cuddle now?"
"God, I feel awful!" Shirley fretted, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand, the other curled around the steaming mug of tea I had made her.
The two of us were seated across from each other at the kitchen table, Sam still snoring soundly in bed. The poor boy had been up half the night coughing, so when I was woken by the sound of Shirley coming home, I was eager to leave him be.
"Don't stress about it, Shirl. Yer couldn't have known," I assured her with a sympathetic smile.
"If I hadn't've left me phone here, he would've been on his own," she cried softly. "I'm such a shit mam."
"You're not a shit mam," I told her sternly, sipping at my own tea. "You're exactly like Sam, beating yourself up for sommat that's not your fault."
Her lips contorted into a sheepish smile, hiding her mug. "What did the doctors say?" she asked, quickly switching the subject. As per our agreement, I had forced Sam to the doctors after he had woken up a few hours after my arrival worse than before, the tablets doing nothing to bring his fever down.
"It's a chest infection, they sent him off with some antibiotics, said it should clear up in a week," I relayed the information to her.
"Mam?" Sam called softly from the doorway. Spinning in my seat, I turned towards him, still looking no better than he had yesterday with his duvet curled around him.
"Oh, my poor baby," she cooed, pushing herself up from the chair to meet him. She took his face in her hands and smoothed his cheeks with the pads of her thumbs before ushering him to sit down. "How yer feeling, pet?"
"Like I've been hit by a bus," he groaned.
"Ya should've stayed in bed, babe," I scolded him lightly, not bothering to tell him off as he stole my mug and took a large gulp. His throat was probably in agony, so I wasn't too bothered.
"Yer weren't there," he frowned, his nose scrunching up in disgust at my tea. "That's rank, Scarl. It's not normal how much milk yer have."
"Oh, shut up," I smiled. Even with a chest infection, he didn't miss the chance to slate the way I took my tea. "Go back to bed, I'll be back in now." He pursed his lips together before nodding reluctantly. "Yer need to take your antibiotics and then ya can go back to sleep, alreet?"
"Okay," he muttered. I pushed myself up from the table and filled up a glass of water for him, passing it to him along with his tablets. I ran my fingers through his hair as he knocked the tablets back, washing them down with the water.
"Gan back to bed, the two of yous," Shirley instructed us both, nodding in the direction of Sam's room. "I'll be in the front room if yous need anything."
"Cheers, mam," Sam croaked as I pulled him up, the two of us disappearing into his room without another word.
Happy New Year everyone! Hope everyone has a magical 2023 <33