Her fingers lingered on his skin, coated in sticky medicine. She could see the tracks of her fingertips in the slight wet sheen that now coated his chest. Why did he have to be so vulnerable and trusting? She didn't deserve it. The way he looked at her, she could never live up to that amount of faith. A slight sadness touched her expression as she looked down at him. Did he realize how little she understood what was happening between them? Did he understand how his trust was so misplaced she wanted to shake him and demand that he find someone better suited to take care of him? With her free hand, not coated in vapo rub, she smoothed his hair back from his forehead, feeling the warmth there, knowing it wasn't warm enough to be of real concern, and yet feeling worried anyway.
Everything about this was wrong, so why couldn't she stop? She only knew that she wanted him close to her, at all times. She still needed her space, she liked her independence. But just knowing where he was, knowing she could find him whenever she wanted, it was a level of comfort she'd never experienced, or expected. She didn't have a choice in the matter, at the end of the day. She wondered if she ever really had.
Her hand came to rest against his chest, her other pressed against his temple, fingers in his hair. A look of concern crossed her face.
"Is that any better?" she asked with more gentleness than she could explain away.