@saintspast / c o n t.
OF course chronic illness was miserable. It had always been unfair to Grace. Like any kid, like any pup, she’d grown up longing to run and jumpy and play, be FREE. Childhood was about freedom. Unless you were one Grace Thornton, of course. It had always been caution, taking every precaution to keep her from so much as catching a cold. And she understood, she did. It was really better to be safe than sorry. But it had always made Grace DIFFERENT. Everyone had treated her differently, and it was the most upsetting aspect of chronic illness in her mind. It had come to a point where she simply expected it, knew that inevitably, anyone she crossed paths with would treat her like a delicate piece of glass.
AND then there was Achille. Someone who knew, to a degree, what she was going through. And while they were always thoughtful about keeping her away from anything infectious, they treated her normally. And that is a big part of why she treasures them in a way she treasures no one else. They’re both SICK, both MISERABLE some days, and they both can understand that in a way no one else around them can. That understanding was the key ingredient in her mind to the friendship they share, it’s what makes them feel so close. And when you’re close to someone, when you know what it’s like to be ALONE on a bad health day, of course you stick around and offer your company.
TEA had been an obvious choice. Grace knows her way around this particular beverage, has her favorites and is even working on a couple of brews all her own. She has to remember to let Achille have a taste one of these days. But not today- today she gets them their FAVORITE, does some searching for that particular mug because she knows how much they love it. And yeah, she may have bumped her head on the open door of a cabinet. She may have even done it twice. But the small smile they give her makes the whole thing very much worth it. “I charge a MILLION DOLLARS for all this normally,” she teases with a wink, settling in their bed beside them. She makes a mental note to work on her own sign language skills, for that certain day when it would be her easiest method of communication with them. “Payable only in PENNIES, of course. But you get the Antler Discount-” Her lips quirk up into a grin as she gently bumps her finger against their shoulder-”Which means you owe me exactly nothing.”
