The Fever (Morning High)

The Fever (Morning High)

Chapter 2: Morning High

It was a little hard for Ema, getting used to Klavier living in her apartment. It was strange enough that he was living there, but he still hadn’t told her anything about the disease. All she knew about it was one, it was deadly, and two, it was called Borginian Fever. She opened up her internet browser and got down to her investigation. Wikipedia came up with a blank page, yahoo results came up with “associated pages”. Google came up blank too. Just then, she remembered WebMD.

“Bingo…” she muttered under her breath, “Borginian Fever works in stages. Stage one‘s symptoms include… Nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite, weakness, and fatigue.” She clicked around. “The early stage of Borginian Fever lasts a few months. Stage two lasts for a few weeks.” Her eyes scrolled across the final stage’s symptoms and she found herself almost unable to read through them. “Screw reading this!” She shoved her hand into her seemingly bottomless bag of Snackoos and directed her investigation toward ways to catch the disease. Mother-to-child, partner-to-partner, and the lesser known… she tried in desperation to click the link, but it lead her to a four-oh-four error page. A curse left her lips. Her investigation had ended due to a faulty internet link.

She closed her search window when she heard her stomach growl, begging for real food. “Time for breakfast!” She made her way into the kitchen and began to think. What should she make for breakfast? Now that she wasn’t alone anymore, she had to make breakfast for the both of them or risk looking rude. She got out her frying pan and the bacon from the fridge.

Germans like bacon… right? She shrugged and threw it into the pan. Eh, whatever. Who cares? It’s my apartment, he’ll have to eat it and like it! Ema was never that much of a cook, she burnt everything she touched. Even instant noodles. Cracking open a pair of eggs, she got out her whisk.

Germans like eggs too, right? She frowned. Why should she care? It’s not like she actually wanted to impress him or possibly brighten his day with breakfast or anything. More than anything, she supposed she just wanted him to eat something… and if she cooked it for him, he might feel a little bit obligated to eat it. Getting out a smaller frying pan, she greased it up and poured the eggs into it. Should I make him an omelet or scrambled eggs? Should I ask him? No, Skye, you’re trying to surprise him. She paused. Wonder if he’s even up yet… She checked the eggs and flipped the bacon, then headed over to his bedroom. “Before I check… I wanna grab my book from my desk…” She headed into her room and picked up her book from her desk. A science book, no doubt. She wandered over to Klavier’s door. Through the wooden door, she could hear him breathing softly. Opening the door a crack and poking her head inside, she caught a glimpse of him. He laid on his back, breathing in and out. Inhaling, exhaling steadily. Exchanging CO2 for O. She crept over to his bedside and glanced down at her possibly permanent houseguest. She smirked quietly, noticing the dopey look on his face. “Pompous German Rock Prosecutor Drools In Sleep,” end quote. She thought in Spark Brushel fashion. “I should probably… oh shit!” she muttered, quickly moving back into the kitchen.

The eggs and bacon were burnt to a crisp. “Nooo!” She tried to salvage the food, but there was nothing to salvage.

“Das fruhstuck ist kaput, ja?” Ema jumped and whirled around, spatula in hand¾ ready to fight. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I thought I smelled something burning. Guess I was right.”

“Jerk. It’s all burnt now… we can’t eat this.” Klavier shook his head.

“I like my food burnt.” He took a piece of bacon and some burnt scrambled eggs and put them onto a plate.

“You’re just saying that.” He walked past her and sat at the table. “But that’s full of carcinogens. They cause cancer!” He paused and gave her a look. “Oh yeah, the Fever…” she paused, “But still burnt food tastes horrible!” He pushed the food around on the plate, gathering some of the charcoaled looking foodstuffs onto his fork. He lifted the fork to his mouth. Ema watched him closely. He swallowed. The brown haired woman twitched. “You didn’t even taste that! All you did was swallow it!”

“Ah, so you found me out. I mean, I like my food burnt, but this is burnt beyond what I find acceptable to choke down.” Ema glared.

“I was cooking just to be nice! I figured I shouldn’t look rude and cook something for the both of us!” He shook his head.

“You didn‘t need to, Fraulein. You could have just told me that cooking wasn‘t your strong suit.”

“Hey, Mr. Perfectionist, shouldn’t you still be cleaning my bathroom?” He paused. “Be quieter when you’re throwing up, would you?” He nodded, turning his burning embarrassment into boyish charm.

“So, as my apology for keeping you up, why not allow me the honor of cooking you breakfast?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“There better be coffee…” she muttered as he entered the kitchen.

“Natürlich, Ich würde irgendetwas für dich machen, Fraulein Detektiv Skye.” She rolled her eyes,

“What did you just say to me?”

“Naturally, I would make anything for you, Miss Detective Skye. Nothing dirty or, dare I say foppish.”

“Everything you say is foppish.” A simple smile rested upon his lips. That smile is deadly, Skye. Stop being happy about seeing that stupid smile. It’s not… that great. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m losing myself in that smile.

“You want to watch? Although… this is a secret recipe.” The science nut battled with her curiosity. What could he put in eggs and bacon to make it taste better? “You want to know what makes my breakfast taste better?”

“…No,” she spat, “…ugh, yes.” The last part of her sentence had fallen into more of a grumble by the time she’d said it. He smiled,

“Love.”

“I’ve analyzed that statement. It is so corny that it’s chemically unstable.” She sighed. “You’re crazy. And stupid. And a fop.” He gave a laugh.

“One breakfast with extra love for ein sehr besonderes mädchen, coming right up.” She stared at him expectantly. “A very special girl.” The man shrugged, smiled and retreated into the kitchen to start on breakfast. Ema quietly watched Klavier from around the corner. His back was to her, which was good. She didn’t want to seem like she was interested… because she wasn’t. Her gazed shifted to his manly hands. He gently cracked open an egg into a bowl, then another, and whisked them up. He cleaned the pans of Ema’s breakfast disaster and washed off the spatula. Everything he did, he did with precision and care.

“I can see you there, mädchen. Why not come in and watch? I could give some pointers, ja~?”

“I don’t need pointers from a fop!” she growled, shying back around the corner. “Stupid non-food-burning fop…” She reclaimed her seat at the table.

“Plate, plate, plate, plate…” he paused, “Aha! Here we are~” He dished up the eggs and the bacon and placed them in front of Ema. “Two eggs on toast with a side of bacon, with a nice, tall glass of orange juice. Enjoy.” Ema glanced down at her meal. Everything was cooked to perfection. Nothing burnt, nothing out of place. It was beautiful. Perfect. She almost didn’t want to eat it. “Are you going to eat it… or just stare at it all day?” Then it hit her.

“Hey, where’s yours?” He sat across from her and watched her carefully with his glimmering, sapphire optics.

“I’m not hungry. But please, eat, mädchen. I would love it if you did.” Ema had never tasted something so delicious in her life. “How is it?”

“H-How did you manage…” she didn’t really want to compliment him, but this just had to be said…! “ …to make simple bacon, eggs and toast taste so good?” He laughed, clearly pleased that she was enjoying her meal. He seemed reluctant to answer, but finally inhaled deeply, saying,

“…It’s my mother’s secret recipe.” The words seemed to cause him pain. Regardless, a smile crossed his face. “I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Think she’d let me in on her secret?” A heavy silence filled the room. She saw the smile fall away for an instant. Did… did I just say something I shouldn’t have…?

“Meine Mutti… sie ist in Deutschland.” He paused, “Sie… Sie ist Tot.” The smile reformed, but it left Ema feeling a bit cold. A look crossed his face, as if he were in pain. A look Ema recognized; long ago she had worn the same look. It didn’t take long for her to realize. It’s an easy solution. Two plus two equals four. …It’s just like what happened to me and Lana. Mrs. Gavin is dead. And I trudged up bad memories.

It… it’s not a genuine fop smile. Crap. Way to go, Ema. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It is a secret, after all!” Ema couldn’t help but try to cover her mistake. Gah! Crap!! I’m such an idiot…

Noticing her distress, he changed the subject. “We should get ready for work.” Ema nearly protested. “I asked specifically for our other co-workers not to give me any special treatment. I want no surprise days off or changes in my workload until I turn into an invalid.” The way those last few words rolled off of his tongue almost worried Ema.

“Don’t say things like that, okay? I know this is hard for you… and it’s scary. I mean… you‘re…” He looked away. She paused, deciding against finishing her sentence. “It‘s hard for me too. I‘m scared for you too!” She glanced at him through her bangs and waiting for a reaction. Any sort of reaction. An awkward silence filled the air. He was staring at her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “…What?!”

“Is the Fräulein finally admitting it?” The smile turned into a full scale grin.

“Admitting what?”

“You love me,” he laughed, “Oh, you know it.” Ema’s blood boiled and she stomped into her room.

“You’re… you’re so stupid! Stop making jokes! I don’t love you, you idiot!”

“Ich denke das Mädchen… she doth protest too much.” Ema dressed quickly and stormed out of her room.

“Sometimes, you really worry me! I‘m trying to be serious… and you turn it into a joke! It won‘t be a joke anymore once this disease has a good grip on you! I don‘t even know why you came to me!” she scowled. “Get dressed and go to work!” Ema shouted, opening the front door and slamming it.

“Well, you’re the only friend I honestly have left…” He thought about his dwindling list of friends and relatives. “Oma and Opa are dead. Mutti… ist tot. Vater ist in jail. Daryan ist in jail…” He began to think of his other band mates. “Markus was transferred. Kolya had to go to Russia. And… Ian is with his wife and newborn child.” He paused. “And Kristoph.” He bit his lip in anger, his pearly whites biting down as hard as they could without breaking the skin. “Er ist… er ist nicht heir.” Out of all the people he knew in the states, these were the only friends he could ever remember having. “She’s the only one I have left.” He covered his eyes with his hand. A yawn crossed his lips and he removed the hand to survey his face.

Ugly black rings were forming under his eyes, he could see them if he looked closely. Generally, he slept eight hours a night. But he knew all too well that the Fever was causing the sleepless look. He cursed silently and rubbed at his eyes a bit. In his opinion- without the charm and the smile¾ he looked like a zombie. He pulled on his clothes, then entered the bathroom to fix his frizzy hair and brush his teeth. As soon as he was finished readying himself, he stepped out of the front door and locked it with the spare key he had received.

“Finally!” The voice made him jump. “You take forever getting ready.” He had been genuinely surprised by her voice, but it quickly faded.

“I’m sorry,” he said casually as they began to walk, “I didn’t know the beautiful Mädchen was waiting for me. I’ll hurry next time, ja?” A frown played with the corners of her mouth, but it dissipated. So… she’s not as annoyed with me as she’d like me to think…

“…I don’t mind waiting,” she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “But don’t take that the wrong way.” He laughed.

That smile had reappeared…! “I won’t. I won’t.” And for some reason, Ema was dazzled by that intoxicating smile.