Alive

Noelle heads inside and finds Thorne propped up in bed. "You're awake," he hears Noelle's voice, and a smile of relief spreads across his face. Thorne now has a bit more strength, his time awake stretches longer, and he can feed himself. His appearance has shifted from a shadow of illness to a man who looks like he's starting to recover. His face, though still gaunt, shows hints of the handsome man he used to be. Noelle chuckles softly, noting that with better health, Thorne's full attractiveness would surely return.

"Have they left?" Thorne asks, his voice still weak but clearer than before.

"Yes, my dear," Noelle replies with a laugh, taking away the empty porridge bowl from the bedside table. There's a playful glint in Thorne's eyes as he seems to have a one-sided conflict with their visitors. It's endearing to Noelle.

With a practiced ease, Noelle returns with a chair, one Ben had fetched for him. He helps Thorne into the chair with careful hands. Thorne, now more assertive, tries to wheel himself around, pushing Noelle away with a mix of determination and stubbornness. 

Noelle watches with a mix of amusement and pride as Thorne wheels himself to the porch, carefully navigating the incline placed by the single stair leading to the ground. From the window, Noelle observes Thorne basking in the sunlight, his eyes closing as he soaks in the warmth. The sight is a testament to the progress they've made together.

Noelle hums softly as he moves to the kitchen. He starts preparing dough for cookies, filling the house with the comforting aroma of baking. The cookies are left in the oven, and he turns his attention to preparing lunch, slicing chunks of chicken Ben had brought earlier that day.

As Noelle works, the simplicity of the tasks brings a sense of normalcy and contentment. Despite the challenges, this quiet, routine life is a precious solace. The only thing he would change is to see Thorne fully restored to health. For now, though, he cherishes these small moments of peace and progress, embracing the life they're slowly rebuilding together.

Noelle hums softly as he works, his hands expertly kneading dough for a fresh batch of cookies. The rhythmic motion is soothing, filling the kitchen with a sense of warmth and familiarity. Once the cookies are safely in the oven, he moves on to lunch, slicing the chicken Ben delivered that morning into neat chunks. Each task is simple, mundane even, but there's a comforting rhythm to it, a peaceful routine that Noelle has come to cherish.

This quiet life, with its small joys and gentle moments, feels like a blessing. Despite everything, Noelle wouldn't trade it for the world—except, perhaps, for one thing. If he could, he would wish for Thorne's full recovery. That thought lingers in the back of his mind, a silent prayer he carries with him every day.

But as much as he appreciates their little haven, Noelle can't ignore the subtle shift in the air. Thorne's pheromones have grown stronger, more potent as his health slowly returns. It's a sign that he's getting better, a fact that should bring nothing but relief. And it does, mostly. But it also brings its own challenges, stirring something within Noelle that he can't entirely dismiss.

It's a complicated feeling—relief mixed with a touch of discomfort. He's not complaining, not really, anyway.

*

I wheel myself into the garden, each movement a strain on my arms, but I push through the exhaustion. After months in bed, I need this—need to feel the sun, the breeze, anything that reminds me I'm still alive.

The garden Noelle has created is a little patch of heaven. I see it every day, yet it never fails to amaze me. The vibrant colors, the way everything seems to flourish under his care—it's magical. I don't know how he did it, but it's a testament to his determination, his ability to breathe life into anything, even me.

I reach out, my hand brushing against the leaves as I lean down and pluck a ripe, red strawberry. It's warm from the sun, soft in my palm. I rub it roughly on my pants, not bothering with anything more, and take a bite. The sweetness explodes on my tongue, fresh and alive.