"Sal." Molly knew that look. He thought he was sexy when he gave her that look. The one where he gave his puppy-eye look that he was really innocent. She told him every time it wasn't that sexy. But it never stopped him. Sort of like the same old jokes he'd tell when he got drunk. They always had to do with someone's ass. Those were definitely never funny. She sighed then, kind of sleepy. She looked back at Tess as if she had to take care of this.
"I could warm you up some hot chocolate." Tess looked at her.
That did sound good, but Molly shook her head, no. She looked back at Sal as Tess shut the door behind her.
He was into the NyQuil now on the night stand. He drank it like it might be an after party drink, or before party drink. Or just straight up spiced Rum (his drink of choice). He drank more than the required recommendation.
"Sal!" Molly went to stop him.
"What!" He shook his head as if the power of green syrup would do the trick.
"You could kill yourself with that stuff and not even know it." She glared at him and snatched the bottle from him.
"I like it when you get so feisty." His grin held down a cough.
"You're sick." She told him.
"Not that sick. Really. I'm not." He shook his head, no.
She watched with her hands grasping that bottle while he undressed completely just to expose that bony body of his.
"Well...come on." He gritted an open grin that didn't do a thing for her.
"You need some sleep." She told him.
"Not without you." He told her.
"I'll get sick." She marched around to the other side of the bed. He always had the right side. She had the left. "You are a GERM, Sal. A big ugly germ." She peeled off a sneaker and let it thud to the floor.
"I'm not big and I'm not ugly." He turned to her as she slowly got out of her jeans, but was still in her panties and T. She undid her bra under her shirt and let that drop to the floor too. "You know, you love me." He was aiming for her lips but she kissed his cheek instead.
"Its, OK, we don't have to kiss." He told her practically hiding under the covers. Reluctantly, she crawled under the flannel sheets with him. He was there to meet her. All over her, in fact. The lights weren't even turned off yet.
For a moment, she felt like a sacrifice waiting for her destiny. Naturally, he was on top and coughed all over her.
"Are you sure we have to." She looked up at him. "I don't want this stuff, you have. What if its more than bronchitis?"
"I'm not that sick." He winced as he cleared his throat. Nothing would stop him now. But just as she suspected, he really wasn't up for it.
"Just hold me. Will you?" He sounded so sad as if she knew the real thing bothering him. He didn't want to be alone. And neither did she.