Hi all. So I just finished reading Pygmalion and I loved it so while I was searching for stories I found I Shall Never Take Her Back, a lovely story by the so very kind Alydia Racham who said I could write a sequel. So I present to her, the sequel! :D
He woke up that morning with a pounding head ache. He felt terrible. Eliza, who'd fallen asleep next to him groaned as he shifted. The day's events came flooding back to him like a wave. They'd kissed. If that wasn't enough to worsen a headache he didn't know what was. He nearly fell of the sofa; she did.
"What in the bloody hell is the meaning of throwing me off the sofa Henry!" She shouted as she stood up.
"I'm sorry Eliza, I just . . ." he flushed. She laughed lightly. The laugh that caused him to break the grammaphone track was now in his ears, live. It was not traveling through a gravely track on the grammaphone. This made him smile.
"Just as I said before, words to live by, we're good people, we are." She squeezed his hand tightly before leaving to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched her leave strands of blonde sleep tousled hair falling down her back from its normally tight braid.
He went to stand up. He felt slightly dizzy but he assumed it was from . . . well he didn't rightly know but he didn't really care either.
He walked over to the kitchen where Eliza sat talking with Mrs. Pearce. She beamed at him and let him take a seat next to her. He had coffee in front of him, and as he always remembered Eliza was delighted with tea. Her tea, he never forgot of course, had honey and three cubes, exactly, of sugar in it. He wouldn't dare tell her but he thought her tea must have tasted as sweet as she herself was.
He was zoning and she could see it. She looked at him perplexed for a little while before tapping his shoulder and startling him only slightly. His brown eyes remained rather unfocused.
Her eyes were always alert, it was something you picked up on the street. Her green eyes were ever fixated on him for a solid five minutes as she assessed him. He looked tired, more so than he had in the past few days. He seemed more tired as well.
I would be too. If I hadn't slept in a bed for the amount of time he hasn't. She thought to herself letting her hand fall on his. He barely noticed. She was worried; maybe they should just sleep this day. The three of them could just pull a day of rest.
He was usually so alert but he just couldn't focus. His chest felt tight when she placed her hand on his it dissipated for a moment but returned full force. He hurt. He didn't want her to see but with the way she looked at him he was certain she could see right into his insides.
"Professor?" Mrs. Pearce asked now gaining her attention.
"Henry?" Eliza asked as he started to attempt for deeper breaths that weren't to be had. "Are you alright Henry?" Eliza cupped his cheek with her hand and ran her fingers through his dark brown hair.
"Do you want me to go get the Colonel?" Mrs. Pearce asked Eliza.
"Would you?" she asked now turning back to Henry. "Henry look at me," she commanded. "Just keep looking at me Henry." She was kneeling on the floor now looking up at him.
"That's it just hold my gaze love. Shhh . . ." she whispered. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and winced. He was running a high fever.
"That's it Henry, keep looking at me. You look dreadful, love," she whispered in a sympathetic way.
Why hadn't anyone noticed before; why hadn't she? He'd looked terrible the first days she'd been back with him, pale as death, dark circles, living on the streets for most of her life she thought she would have seen those as a sign for high alarm.
She ran her fingers through his hair.
"Liza. . ." he slurred tiredly. "Liza . . ."
"Yes dear, I'm right here, I'm right here it's me. I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here."
"Of course, shhh . . . of course, I'll never stop not if you don't want me to." She murmured nonsense to him rubbing his knee as he relaxed against the kitchen chair.
The Colonel came rushing down the stairs. He ran into the kitchen. He knelt by Eliza and lifted Henry from the chair and took him upstairs Eliza in tow. Pickering laid him on the bed; however, Eliza made him comfortable. She pulled the covers up to his chin; she then ran her fingers through his soft and sweaty hair reassuringly. He groaned a little in sleep.
"Shhhh love, 'Liza's here." She whispered as she tucked him in and lit a candle for her vigil, "'Liza's here."