Paloma's body ached terribly. Not only that but it felt as though an elephant had set up camp on her forehead. The pressure against her skull was so smoldering, so heavy, so unbelievably constricting that she wouldn't be all that surprised if her head were to spontaneously combust, painting every square inch of the bed's linens in scattered blood and chunks of her shattered skeleton.

Had the pain not been accompanied by a brutally sore throat, incredibly stuffy nose, and a cough so robust that her lungs nearly followed the mucus she'd been hacking up that afternoon, Paloma would have chalked her unwellness up to being nothing more than bothersome yet trivial sinus issues.

But her remarkably red nose and irrefutable fatigue told her otherwise. This wasn't seasonal allergies, nor a pesky summer cold...this was the flu and it wouldn't go away until it was content with the merciless wrath that it bestowed upon the brunette. Her immune system was taking a hard blow and all she could think about was how terribly betrayed she felt by her multivitamins.

She dropped her jaw in the slightest, her eyes chased Ava's neatly trimmed nails as the ginger freed her of the thermometer that probed the underside of her tongue. After reading the tool intently, the tiny crease between Ava's brow grew prominent with worry.

"Shit, it's higher than it was an hour ago."

She tsked audibly then tossed the tool on the bedside table in a less-than-gentle manner as if it were responsible for her girlfriend's sickness. Abandoning her fierce glare, Ava stroked Paloma's pale cheek, trailing her jaw using the backs of her fingers. The brunette imitated a cat by using what little strength she had to greet the tender touch.

"I can't remember," Ava started softly, "is it the flu that gets worse before it gets better?"

A smile of its most feeble form overtook Paloma's features. Her voice was scratchy, husky, and incredibly thick with exhaust when she spoke. "I didn't go to medical school but I think it's safe to say that most things get worse before they get better."

Paloma truly looked pitiful. Not so much like a child who'd lost all of their Halloween candy to a local bully but like someone whose puppy got ran over on their birthday.

Though she didn't doubt her girlfriend's ailments in the least because really, her fiery skin and sky-high temperature spoke for theirselves, more often than not, Paloma turned into the biggest baby when faced with illnesses and now was no exception. Between all the groaning and whining, Ava was on the verge of yanking out her dark-red hair by the fistfuls.

But, for the most part, she had a soft spot greater than the size of Texas for the woman, so she couldn't bring herself to stop giving into her annoying (but pretty adorable) cries of despair even if Paloma was taking advantage of her nurturing nature.

Ava made up for the brunette's piss-poor smile by gleaming sincerely. She couldn't mask her expression nor the laugh that sprung from her belly. "I know you feel like crap but your voice sounds really sexy when you're sick."

In response, Paloma stirred in the bed and assumed a feigned position of enticement. "Aww, someone knows how to make a woman feel special when she's at her lowest. But why am I just now hearing about this oh-so-great characteristic of mine?"

"The last time you were really sick was nearly three years ago." Ava crossed her arms over her chest, looked up with a fleeting grin, and let Paloma in on her reminiscent thoughts. "After weeks of pleading, I finally convinced you to hang out with me at my place after work. If it wasn't already said, you're extremely stubborn," she added, shooting an entertained Paloma a particularly pointed look.

"And it really wasn't my night because instead of informing you that I kinda-sorta may or may not have wanted to be more than just friends, you ended up—most likely due to some malevolent force that definitely had it out for me—getting sick and spilling your guts all over me. Unfortunately, I would later learn that it wouldn't be the last time I'd have the displeasure of being covered in your stomach acid."

Sheepishly, Paloma sported a toothy grin and dodged her girlfriend's artificial scowl.

"I couldn't exactly relay a compliment of that nature without you doing it all over again, now could I?"

Paloma choked out a hearty laugh and, despite her best efforts, Ava couldn't help but join in on the hysterics. The brunette nodded casually and sized Ava up, her grin as smug as ever.

"You know, I always wondered why you didn't kick my ass. But, my charm had already gotten to you. It makes so much sense now. I'm not gonna lie, you've always been a hell of a lot nicer than I am."

Again, the couple's explosion of merriment filled the bedroom and Paloma just might've corroborated the saying that laughter was the best medicine had she not fallen prey to a coughing spell so powerful that it rocked the house to its core.

Much like that morning, Ava worked to scare away the grim frog in Paloma's throat by rubbing soothing circles on her back and by the sound of it, it worked.

"I'm gonna make you some soup," decided Ava abruptly. "Try not to die while I'm gone."

In fear of irritating her throat any further, Paloma offered the woman a feeble thumbs up. Ava met that with a tender kiss the brunette's temple. As Ava tagged out, Siberia tagged in; abandoning her spot on the floor and trampling her way onto the bed before Paloma could say otherwise.

The husky nuzzled her way under the comforter and nudged Paloma's hand using her wet snout, the brunette giggled and weaved her fingers through the light-gray coat of her fur.

Exceeding the title as man's best friend, Siberia made it her business to stay near the woman's side as if her presence alone could combat Paloma's ailments or, at the very least, keep all other sicknesses at bay.

In the kitchen, Ava scanned the contents of the pantry. Several boxes of pasta, a couple jars of Alfredo sauce, oatmeal, and a few other pitiful items stared back at her. Only two cans of soup stood with the clan: chicken noodle and cream of mushroom—both of which were pretty high up on Paloma's list of disdain. They were in dire need to raid the grocery store.

Not yet accepting defeat, Ava checked the neighboring cabinet in one last-ditch effort. Being that it was entirely barren, the redhead came up just as empty-handed as she had the first time.

Sighing, she rested her hands on her hips. Soon after, her phone offered a distraction once it buzzed away in her back pocket. She smiled upon seeing the caller ID that held Quinn's name.

"Before you say anything, does the diner sell soup? I may need you to bring some home."

Ava's lighthearted manner was chased away when her query was met with nothing more than dry heaves on the other line.

"...Quinn?" A sense of urgency overtook her tone. "You okay?"

Ava wasn't greeted with words but, instead, by intensified labored breathing that was entirely strained by nature. It was only a moment later that the elder ginger recognized the seeming impossibility for the girl to draw breath.

"Okay, just stay where you are, alright? I'm coming."

Times like this made Ava grateful for the technological advancements attributed to the twenty-first century. Thanks to Paloma's persistence, each member of the Sullivan household could be located by one another via a mere app.

It was something Quinn agreed to with great dread—which Paloma chalked up to her being up to no good despite the teenager's assurance otherwise—and while Ava couldn't say she wouldn't have shared her reluctance had anything of the sort been around when she was her age, the tool became useful a lot faster than she anticipated. As a matter of fact, it had practically taken no time at all to gather her apparent destination.

Despite gaining the crucial knowledge, Ava cursed under her breath and frowned so deeply that she was on the verge of acquiring a ferocious headache.

It had been months since the fateful day at the movie theater where Quinn had panicked her way into a vicious attack. Still, adhering to her and Quinn's previous agreement, the woman hadn't relayed the unpleasant news to her girlfriend and she couldn't imagine doing so right then would do anything more than exasperate Paloma's symptoms and persuade her to fret unnecessarily.

So, yet again, she was going it alone.

Ava climbed the stairs, rounded the corner, and pleaded with herself to appear less alarmed than she was feeling on the inside. Upon entering, Paloma's eyes locked on her's. Time and time again, Paloma proved that her majestic, nut-brown eyes attained the transcendent power of a Pagan goddess.

The look alone nearly reeled Ava in—Paloma being the lasso, Ava the horse—and ordered her to drop to her knees and reveal all the truths that she had the audacity to keep from her.

"No soup?" Paloma croaked.

Immediately, the ginger exhaled in satisfaction. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and briefly squeezed her eyes shut in vexation at how it so easily slipped her mind; all the while thanking her lucky stars for Paloma's lack of awareness.

"Actually, I'm gonna run up to that Chinese restaurant. Get you some of that hot and sour soup you love so much. That should clear you right up."

Ava's lips moved so fast her brain could hardly catch up but she was abundantly grateful that what she spewed out was remotely believable. Though, as necessary as it was, she couldn't ignore the unendurable churn she felt in her stomach whenever she lied to the brunette.

Paloma's smile was dreamy and sweet. "You don't have to do that. Whatever's in the pantry is okay."

Ava's sunglasses sliced through her mane as she slid them onto her head for safekeeping. "Of course I do. Okay is inadequate, only the best is enough for my girl."

"Jesus Christ." Paloma didn't bother stifling her blatant laugh. "Was that a quote?"

Ava didn't give it much thought. "Probably."

She reached over the brunette to retrieve her keys only to find that her girlfriend beat her to it. Paloma started again, this time more earnestly. "Seriously, that's sweet but at this time of day, it's gonna be a thirty-minute drive, at least. I don't need it that much. Besides, I'd much rather have you keep me warm than some delicious but entirely overpriced soup."

Ava couldn't help but grin at the charming comment. She benevolently pried herself from Paloma's grip, not allowing the woman to tug her down into the bed as she did so cunningly practically every other day.

"As much as I love you, I'm not at all willing to catch anything even remotely resembling what you've got goin' on."

Eyes rolling in frivolity, Paloma's pout was nothing if not child-like. "Fine. You wanna take my car? Yours really deserves a break. Besides, now's a good a time as any to start racking up some mileage."

"I'm good." Ava gave Paloma's searing forehead a delicate kiss and snaked her keys out of her grasp. "Won't be long."

She pulled the bedroom door closed behind her, a ghost of a smile etched its way onto Ava's features upon seeing Paloma snuggle further beneath the covers, succumbing to the fatigue-induced slumber.

And just like that, Ava found herself within the confines of a tiny, overcrowded coffee house, urging Quinn to calm down through the use of her soothing voice and gentle touch alone. Both redheads were planted in the cushions of a couch that stood only a few feet from a set of bathroom stalls.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Ava couldn't help but find amusement in the fact that a coffee house hardly bigger than a grain of salt managed to squeeze an entire couch within its diminutive enclosure.

Not only that but she never quite understood why anyone would want to stay inside a public restroom for longer than necessary, let alone stretch out on a—surprisingly comfy—bathroom couch.

Perhaps the purpose of lavatory furniture was to provide solace during circumstances like the very one they found themselves in considering not once in the midst of the twenty-minute session of ragged breathing on the girl's part had anyone entered to relieve themselves.

"Sorry."

Quinn's apology came out both rough and delicate all at the same time and it was quite possibly the only thing that brought Ava to terminate her inattentive gaze at the tiled floor. Scooting closer to Quinn, she gave her shoulder an altruistic squeeze, her expression being one of great bewilderment.

Ava then pacified the pardon by shushing her placidly. "Don't be." She smiled indolently. "Welcome back. You cool now?"

With an inhale that was a lot less extinguished than it had been only moments earlier, Quinn worked to put Ava's worries to rest, "I think so...yeah."

Ava's tense muscles slacked in relief, pleased that the teenager's breathing had finally regulated. "So..." she entreated, "you wanna tell me what happened?" The woman tugged on the hat that clung snugly to Quinn's head. Her eyes then glossed over the matching burgundy apron, both which possessed the coffee shop's name. "You a barista now?"

Quinn appreciated the tease in Ava's tone because, somehow, it made her feel like everything would be alright, even if the lack of air in her lungs just a minute ago said otherwise.

"More like busgirl," she corrected, chuckling softly. Ava's furrowed brow summoned her to offer further explanation, so she gave her just that. "I've been working here for a little while now, just washing dishes, cleaning tables, you know..." shrugging, she trailed off. "Only, today, the cashier didn't bother to show up so I got put on the register. And, as you can imagine, things went to hell pretty fast."

Sighing gently, Ava gave Quinn's shoulder another tender squeeze. Still, there was a stringentness in her tone that made the teenager recoil further into the couch's cushions. "Lemme guess, your sister doesn't know about your newfound profession?"

Sensing the question before it was asked, Quinn ducked her head to avoid Ava's gaze. Her eyes only returned to the woman's when Ava surprised her with a soft chuckle, "I think you just pushed yourself too hard here, kid."

As much as she hated it, Quinn had to agree, "Yeah, I guess. Usually, I can calm down but this time, I just...couldn't."

Eyebrow raised in suspicion, Ava asked, "Usually?" After watching Quinn slam her eyes shut and curse under her breath, she corroborated the girl's contention, "'Shit' is right. This has happened before? As in again...after the first time? As in after the day you promised to keep me posted if it happened again?"

Though she dared to look at Ava, Quinn couldn't maintain the visual contact for long. In that very moment, it was proven that couples really do start to take on each other's features over time, bearing the looks of one another whether they intend to or not because the stern expression Ava so blatantly assumed was a textbook Paloma glare.

Granted that it was already apparent that Quinn couldn't white lie her way out of the boiling hot water Ava's firey glower left her in, she relented, "It only happened a few more times."

"Why the hell wouldn't you tell me or someone about something like this?" Exhaust, vexation and a hint of hostility were all present in the question. "I told you before, this isn't something that you're just gonna suddenly get over on your own."

"I can handle it."

"Oh, you can handle it?" The bite in Ava's terse tone could be heard a million miles away. "That's obviously not true. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. Don't bullshit me."

Maybe it was because she did it so rarely but anytime Ava remotely raised her voice or got snippy with the teenage redhead, Quinn always found herself retreating both verbally and physically. It had been expected from Paloma, as a matter of fact, she hadn't ever really known her sister to be any other way. But Ava? Her austere and authoritarian manner startled her every time.

Ava must've sensed this because not a minute later, she drew back her dour glower. After briefly dropping her head to regain her composure, she faced the girl. "Look, it's just...you know your sister worries about you—and I do too—but if Paloma, in particular, found out that I knew what was going on and didn't tell her about it or even do anything to stop it then she'd be furious with me, to put it lightly."

Quinn nodded, she was more familiar with her sister's wrath than anyone.

"I hate to say this but it isn't just your ass on the line, alright?" Ava pressed. "I didn't tell Paloma because I was convinced that I could handle it, that I could get you to be upfront with me but...I was wrong."

This addition prompted silence on Quinn's part.

"We had a deal," said Ava. "You keep me posted and I don't say anything, however, you went out of your way to break that deal, behind my back. Which means—"

A corpse could sense what Ava was going to say next. Quinn's plea was hurried and laced with a tad bit of fear. "No. Come on."

Ava inhaled sharply and settled her gaze on the soap dispenser that oozed foamy, white suds. Her jaw tensed as each of the teenager's appeals went in one ear and out the other. Even Quinn could see that the elder ginger had already made up her mind. Still, she couldn't bring herself to relent.

"Please?"

"No, kid, that's it," asserted Ava. "We talked about this. You should've thought of that sooner. From now on, Paloma's gonna handle it. The doctors, too. That's the way it should've always been."

Ava had to admit, though she was dead set on sticking to her principles and the rules of their agreement, she couldn't say that she didn't feel the least bit guilty about putting her foot down with Quinn. Even if it was for the best.

It was how certain, how unrelenting, how abrasive Ava was in her decision that caused Quinn's eyes to darken. "I'm keeping your secret for you...what, you can't do the same for me?"

Craning her neck in a manner so slow it felt as though it took ages for Quinn to return to her view, Ava narrowed her eyes. "Keeping my secret?"

"About Sandra, yeah," Quinn spat back. "Your secret."

Ava's snicker hadn't an ounce of sincerity. "Is this—are you serious? I told you before, it wasn't remotely what it looked like." She leaned closer to Quinn whose expression was just as pertinacious as her own. "All the shit I do for our family, for you, and you're seriously gonna throw that in my face? What, one, little, insignificant thing happens and suddenly I can't be trusted?"

"You know, I still don't know what to think about that whole thing," Quinn fired back. "Still not entirely sure I believe you. All of it seemed just a bit too..." her eyes scanned the bathroom as she searched for the right word, "convenient...to be true. A little bit too carefully thought out. I do believe that whatever it was is actually done but I don't know if it meant as much 'nothing' as you're so desperately trying to sell me on."

Ava looked up at the ceiling and laughed in disbelief.

"My sister bought a car with the sole intention of fillin' it up with freakin' children. Your children. After you guys get married. I don't know how you convinced her, but you did and now that's what she wants. And, at this point, I really, really don't want things to get screwed up, but I have to ask: do you seriously wanna dive that deep without cleaning the slate first? I mean, that alone makes your story a hell of a lot more suspicious."

"Then why didn't you say anything sooner, huh?" Ava provoked. "If I'm such a liar if I'm so terrible...then why didn't you tell her?"

"Because," Quinn started lowly, "I care about you and, more importantly, the happiness of my sister so much so that I don't wanna see your relationship perish just because of some stupid—and I'm sure it was very stupid—mistake on your part. So, I did you a solid by not airing your laundry out to dry but lately, I've been wondering if that was the right thing. Still, you're unwilling to help me out even though what you've done is, I'm certain, way worse?"

"If you're working your way towards some deeper meaning, don't insult me by beating around the bush. Have the balls to come out and say it," demanded Ava. "And be as explicit as possible."

Adhering to the woman's humorless demand, Quinn inched closer. "You keep my secret...I keep yours. That's about as explicit as it gets."

Ava's eyes hadn't abandoned their narrowed state, even as she sized Quinn up. "Alright, you've said your piece...now I'm sayin' mine. Just in case you can't see it, I'm gonna be kind enough to let you in on something: you're being an incredibly ungrateful, manipulative asshole right now. And there are zero excuses for it. The moment you called, I hauled ass to get over here, just to make sure you were okay. I sat here for over twenty-minutes merely waiting for you to catch your breath."

Quinn squirmed in her seat, but she didn't dare interrupt.

"Like always, after working hard all week to help put food on the fucking table for our family and spending all day taking care of your sister, I still bent over backward to get here just to check on you. To help...and protect you in any way I can, like I do day in and day out. And you mean to tell me you wanna play tick for tack?"

Avas lips curved into a snarl as she gave Quinn a long once-over.

"You are so..." She scoffed dramatically—a tactic she used to will her sharpened tongue to fold instead of taking the reigns. Silence ensued as she convinced herself not to stoop to the level of a teenager. "You know what? This is what you wanna do? Fine. You don't want Paloma to know anything, then we'll keep both our mouths shut. But know this: you're burning a bridge between yourself and someone who has always stood up and looked out for you."

She didn't allow Quinn to stir in that realization for long before she tersely said, "And I swear, you better not even attempt to pull this card again because I can promise you, it will not end well. You understand?"

After roughly tangling her hand into her dark locs, Ava rose to her feet and motioned to the area around them; all the while towering of the girl. "And you're quitting this shithole. Today. Like, right now. End of discussion. That's the deal."

On that sour note, a customer entered the restroom, tearing through the tense air with their presence alone. The woman—likely around sixty—peeped an, "excuse me", and squeezed past Ava before finally slipping within the confines of a nearby stall.

Quinn stifled out a mere, "Fine."

Seeing her opportunity to leave the vast wasteland that snuffed out what little enjoyment her day had, Ava threw a hand on her hip and glared at Quinn expectantly. "Come out when it's done. I'll be in the car."

Quinn extended Ava an unholy look of her own. "I Walked here." She stood, holding her ground even as she looked up at the woman who's height outdid her own. "I'll walk back."

This earned her yet another grim expression from Ava. "Car. Five minutes. Do not keep me waiting."

And with that, Ava barged through the bathroom exit; leaving the door swinging to a rapid close as she stomped her way out of the congested coffee shop.