Merrion Priddy (merrymage) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-11-27 15:19:00 |
|
|||
Merri knew what Weynn would say before she said it, and he so desperately wish that she would not. But when the words came out of her mouth, Merri felt the world cave in all around him. Oh, Faram, how he had wanted to be wrong, and how he had wanted Myf to be right when she speculated that it was because he had gone out in the storm on Saturday -- and that he did, indeed, have an "overactive imagination." (She was not the first to tell him this, but Merri did not realize how much he did not want her to be the last until this very moment.) Weynn's words were muffled against the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that swirled around him, some of it brought on by the fever that had only gotten worse overnight and the chills that crawled up and down his spine. He thought of the snowstorm, Peony and Toku, Drake and Rene, his mother, the nightmares he'd had ever since he first heard of the plague in the Outlands, what would happen after he died, what he could have done to have prevented this, why hadn't Myf believed him when he first came into her clinic... ... and he thought of Wil. "I will be back in the morning," Weynn promised as she stood from his bedside. "Please remember to take your medication. I left a note in case you forget." A pause. "I am very sorry, Merrion, but we will get to the bottom of this. I will tell the Council for you." Merri turned his head and looked at her, his eyes watering, and he knew not from the fever or from his sinuses. She gave him a sympathetic look and then disappeared out into the hall. He felt as though his heart was clenching in on himself, and he closed his eyes and couldn't help but to imagine Wil's arms around him, giving him comfort. Oh, Faram. How he missed him. How he wished he was here. Merri let out a choked sob, curled up into himself, and wept. He never wanted to die alone. |