fragments

The key scraped against the lock in the dark once or twice before sliding in with a soft grinding sound, and then a click, and then the rumble of the bolt as Imogen turned the doorknob, pushing it open.

“Laudna?” she called softly, nudging the door closed with her heel, flicking the entryway light on with her elbow, her hands still occupied with keys and a paper bag from the little market down the street. “Honey?” she called again, worry prickling the back of her neck before she heard the rustle of movement ahead in the living room.

“Imogen?” came a raspy, strained voice, and Imogen smiled a little, sadly, as she padded into the living room after kicking her shoes off by the door.

On the couch, was what at first glance looked to just be a tangle of mismatched knitted blankets in all sorts of colors, but then there was a rustle of movement as Laudna emerged, wide eyes blinking blearily as she peered out of her cocoon.

Laudna’s long hair had evidently been braided at one point, but it had mostly escaped by now, instead wreathing her head in an unruly tangle. She was paler than usual, though the slight apples of her cheeks were rosier than than they normally would be, evidence of a fever.

“Hey, baby,” she sighed as she set down the bag on the coffee table. She knelt down beside the couch and reached out, bushing a few strands of hair out of Laudna’s eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Laudna croaked, her brows drawing together in confusion, “darling, I don’t want you to get sick, I–” she cut herself off and ducked back into her cocoon, a muffled sneeze sounding from the pile of blankets as it shook a second later. Laudna resurfaced with a tissue held to her nose, breathing hard as she sniffled. “I said I would be alright, darling, I don’t want to bother you,” she rasped, sighing quietly as she settled back against the blankets.

“Takin’ care'a you isn’t a bother, Laudna,” Imogen said with a soft laugh, shaking her head a little. “S'kinda my job, actually, seein’ as I’m your girlfriend an’ all.”

“But–” Laudna began, “don’t you have other things that need doing? I’m not dying, Imogen, it’s just a cold. I’ll survive,” she murmured, burrowing into the blankets again.

“Just cause you ain’t dyin’ doesn’t mean I shouldn’t come take care'a ya,” Imogen said softly, “doesn’t mean ya should have to fend for yourself,” she leaned forward and kissed Laudna’s clammy forehead, and she smiled a little as she watched the flush on Laudna’s cheeks darken a little bit for just a moment. “So,” she continued, leveling Laudna with a serious look. “have you eaten yet today?”

“I had some tea and toast earlier,” Laudna relented. She took a deep breath, blinking slowly up at Imogen.

“When was that?”

Laudna hummed quietly, thinking as her eyes flicked to the clock that sat on her mantle. “A few hours ago, I think. I fell asleep for a while.”

“Alright,” Imogen murmured, “I think maybe we should get something more substantial in ya, what do ya think? Chicken soup sound good?”

Laudna nodded with a sheepish smile. “Thank you, darling,” she said softly. “We can order it if you like, I don’t have any canned soup in the pantry right now,” she began, but Imogen shook her head.

“Nope, I got everything we’ll need for soup,” she said, nodding towards the bag that sat on the coffee table. “go back to sleep, darlin, I’ll wake you up when it’s ready.”