I don't think, I just react.

"Oh, no," I mumble, pushing the blanket away and standing up. "Go back to the bed, I'll bring you the medicine," I tell him, going to the kitchen and take out the Advil from the cabinet.

When I walk back, I have to light my way with my phone so I don't fall over anything and injure myself in the darkness. I turn the phone light off when I get into the bedroom and I to Alexander's side, giving him the pills and a glass of water.

He takes it and then immediately lies back down, face down on the bed. I take his phone and put it on silent, turning the brightness down. I do the same with mine.

Alexander doesn't get migraines very often, but when he gets them, they put him in bed, sometimes even for days.

I crawl on the bed, careful to not make many movements to disturb him, though the minimum is still too much and he grunts. I don't talk to him when he's in this state because every noise causes him pain. Every light hurts him, too.

I hate when he's like this and I know there's nothing I can do to help him. And now I just feel bad for acting the way I did today, even though he deserved to know that what he said wasn't okay.

I lay beside him, completely still. I'm afraid to even breathe. I don't know if he's awake or he's sleeping. "Gabby," he whispers in the dark.

His hand searches for mine on the bed and he takes it, putting it on his head. He says it helps him when I massage his head. I turn to my side so I have better access and get closer to his body. As soon as I softly massage his head with my fingers, he grunts. We don't talk.

I lean closer to him, kissing the side of his head, hoping I could kiss away his pain.

It's true when they say you hurt when the person you love is hurting, too.

When I know for sure that he's asleep, I fall asleep, too, although I wake up constantly throughout the night, afraid that Alexander will need something and I won't hear him.

In the morning, when the sun barely starts rising, I just decide to get up. I have to go pee and I'm really hungry. Alexander is still asleep so I make sure I'm quiet.

I let him rest and go prepare myself a breakfast. I clean the kitchen afterward and also bring some food to Alexander and a glass of orange juice.

He has his eyes closed when I enter the room but I know he's awake just by the way he's breathing heavier than he would if he was asleep. He's in pain.

I softly bring my hand to the side of his face, but he doesn't open his eyes. His face scrunches. "I have food," I whisper.

"Nuh-uh," he mutters, not wanting it. I was expecting that.

"Drink something, then," I whisper softly.

He partly opens his eyes and he sits up. I help him drink half of the glass and he decides he has enough. He lays back down on the bed, shoving his face into the pillow.

I sigh, hate seeing him like this. I sit on the bed next to him and just watch him for some time until I know he falls asleep. I take my phone into my hands and turn away from him so the light won't bother him and I send a text to Sam.

Hey. Are you still alive?

It's very early so I know for sure that she's still sleeping.

I have nothing to do than just lay still beside Alexander and not even move. I can't make any noise, so I just lay there and breathe.

At one point, Alexander slightly lifts his head and searches me out as if he's looking if I'm still here. When he sees me, he moves closer to me, puts his arm around me and places his head on my chest, his eyes closing once again and he lets out a sigh.

I scratch his back and then his scalp, trying to soothe the pain.

I fall asleep a few times, but not for long. I don't know whether Alexander is awake or asleep.

I wake up when he goes to the bathroom. When he comes back and lies back into bed, he stays on his side this time.

˙˙˙

I get a text back from Sam almost at noon.

Barely. How are you doing? How's the new nanny? Call me

She drank a lot more than I did, but she's more used to the alcohol than me and she doesn't fall after just a few drinks. I'm not even ashamed about it.

I slept the whole afternoon. I can't call you because Alex has a migraine. Lena is cool, I guess. I didn't get to know her much, but Alex's family seems to like her.

And that's what's important, at the end of the day. So what if I felt like she was trying to flirt with Alexander? If she's good at her job, that's all that matters and I'll have to deal with it. I trust Alexander anyway. Well, most of the time. Some times, like yesterday, he says things that really make me rethink a few things and try to understand what the hell he meant with it.

Most of the time, though, we're good. Alexander learned how to communicate better, although he's the one of the two of us who likes to close himself off and not talk about how he feels if something hurts him. He tells me if he's annoyed or angry, but hurt? He tries to hide it but I see right past him and I try to talk it out with him and make him see that sharing pain is nothing bad.

Meanwhile, I, on the other hand, am not afraid to be emotional. He'll know when I'm mad, too, but I try to refrain from arguing with him. Instead, I take some time and be by myself to calm myself down, look at things from another perspective and then calmly talk it out. Alexander learned by now that when I'm angry, it's just best to leave me alone.

I stretch on the bed, nothing that my whole body hurts from not doing anything but laying in the bed.

I get up and quietly go out of the bedroom. It's time to cook some lunch anyway. It feels good to be standing up from lying so much and now I partly understand why Alex loves running so much, although it's still not enough to make me start too.

It was one time I went to the gym with Alexander and I had enough of it. That's just not for me. I'm not completely crippled, thought. I still like to go on long walks, either alone or with Alexander. Or with Amelia if we're visiting.

I spend a good time looking for a recipe on the internet that I want to do for lunch. I'm not a big of a cook. I know how to do it and I know how to do simple things, but a lot of the time I still have to get help from the internet to cook something or just to get an idea.

Alexander doesn't complain much since he doesn't know any way around the kitchen at all. But, if I can say so, most of the things I cook turn out pretty good.

But the one thing I love to do is bake. And Alexander loves that.

And maybe I should bake something today since I have time and no one is bothering me. If Alex will feel better later, good enough to eat something, I'm sure he's going to be happy. I can do this much at least to make him feel at least a little better.

˙˙˙

Alexander actually comes out of the bedroom in the late afternoon when I already finished eating and now I'm waiting for the muffins to finish baking so I can take them out. I'm reading a book in the kitchen when he comes.

I notice he's fresh out of the shower, but he looks worn out, even though he slept most of the day off.

I immediately close the book and stand up. "You're up! How do you feel?"

"Like shit," he says, walking to the fridge and taking out orange juice, drinking it straight from the box I don't scold him for doing, deciding to give him a pass just this time.

"Hungry?" I ask.

"Fuckin' starved," he grunts out with a deep, tired voice. A strain of his hair falls over his forehead and his eyes and he doesn't even bother pushing it back.

"There's still some lunch left. And muffins will be ready to take out when you finish eating."

He lets out a happy, blissful sigh. "I could just marry you right now," he says, making me chuckle. He sits down and I put a plate in front of him.

When I try to sit down beside him, he stops me by wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me towards him. I support myself by putting my hand on the table so I don't fall over.

"No, come here. I missed you." He pulls me onto his lap.

I frown, but I don't protest. "I was here the whole time," I mutter.

He has one arm wrapped around my waist while he eats with the other. "Yeah, but I missed you. You know?" he says.

I do know exactly what he means. I lean close to his body, happy that he's back. "Do you feel okay now?" I ask, pushing that strain of hair back because I just can't help myself.

He shrugs. "Eh. I'll survive, I guess."

I roll my eyes at him trying to shake it off and act tough, but I don't comment on it. I let him have that macho moment and enjoy it.

When he's half-finished with the food, he looks at me suddenly and grins. "I see you're not mad at me anymore since you're baking me muffins."

My body involuntary tightens up and my mouth straightens into a thin line, unable to share the joke with him and smile back. I look down at my fingers. "Why did you say it? Like ... what was the point?" I ask quietly. I'm just trying to understand his reason or motive because he must've known that saying it as a joke won't be funny, surely.

Alexander stops eating. He puts his fingers under my chin and lifts my head up. "Because I'm a jerk and I say things that I shouldn't say and I'm sorry."

And that's all that I wanted, really. An apology. Or just acknowledging that what he said wasn't okay.

I nod my head. "Don't say things like that anymore," I plead him.

Before Alexander and I started dating, I was still dealing with a lot of insecurities and trauma from the past so little things can throw me off and make me self-question again. It's not his fault at all, but I can't help myself either sometimes. I'm not overly-jealous or possessive, but it's nice knowing where he goes and who he's going with and approximately at what time can I expect him coming back and I believe that's just a communication between two people. If we're not hiding anything, then it shouldn't be a problem saying where we're going and with whom.

And I like having it all in the open and no secrets between us. It's also good to know where a person is just in case anything happens and I need to reach him or he needs to reach me.

But I would never be the type to forbid him going out with his friends. I don't question him when he tells me he's going out because I trust him and I like him having friends.

But what I do request and expect is respect. And I'm never backing off from that, not in any situation, not at any time. And I felt disrespected yesterday. I don't care if he talks to his friends like this, that's between him and his morality, but saying it when I'm right there beside him ... not cool.

Alexander wraps both of his arms around me now. "You're my moon, my stars and my whole fucking galaxy and you seem to forget that too many times," Alexander mutters, nuzzling his head into my neck.

I wrap my arms around him, too, enjoying the feeling of comfort he always knows how to bring me. "I love you," I tell him, putting my head onto his shoulder.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on my lips. "I love you too, but I really want a muffin right now," he replies with a naughty grin, slapping my ass.

˙˙˙

The rest of the Sunday evening is pretty much uneventful. I'm revising for tomorrow while Alexander is watching a race in the living room. He's still very weak and drained. He tries not to be grumpy, but I know he's not in the best mood. We spent the afternoon together, not really doing anything else than just talking about everything and nothing.

I just tried to put him in a good mood because I know he's struggling and I'd do everything so he didn't have to go through this again.

Although he tries to mask his pain away, I see it. He can't hide that from me.

I sigh when I'm finally done with the revision, although I wasn't too focused. I rub my eyes and turn off the light and go to the living room, joining Alexander on the couch. He's waiting for me with open arms and I just settle there with him, happy about how natural and normal this feels for the both of us.

*

Don't mind me, just enjoying this sunshine while waiting for the storm to come 😎