Moving On by Fabian Black

Author:Fabian Black
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Source: AllRomanceEbooks, M/M Contemporary
ISBN: 9781409224174
Publisher: Lulu.com
Published: 2008-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

The next time I properly surfaced the sun was streaming in at the window, pooling on the bed. It had that melted butter shade so typical of early autumn, retaining within it a lingering remnant of summer’s opulent spirit.

Cautiously easing myself into a sitting position I felt every muscle in my body quivering with weakness, my chest tightening with the effort, but at least the pain had diminished a little and I felt more alert.

Reaching for a glass of water from the bedside table I saw the book left open from the night before, and memory stirred. As I had lain drifting in and out of sleep, Thomas had read to me. I had felt inexplicably comforted by something I had not experienced since childhood. I couldn’t recall the content of what was being read, just the action of reading, which was perhaps just as well. I grimaced slightly as I noted the book title, Beowulf, not exactly a light subject. The previous evening had been the first time I’d been fully aware of his presence in any real sense, but I suspect he’d been there for several nights, reading aloud to me, keeping me company, and keeping an eye on me.

Tears stung my eyes, fool that I was. I blinked them away, it was time to be letting this man have his life and bedroom facilities back...as well as his cat. I smiled as the door was head butted open and Bob ambled in, leaping onto the bed promptly disappearing from view as he misjudged the end. He just couldn’t seem to get it right. Undeterred, he tried again, making a successful landing this time. I scratched behind his ears, “well, Bob, it’s been nice meeting you, but I think I really ought to be getting along now.” He stopped purring to give me an odd little look, and then with a small shake of his head he jumped off the bed with a thud and disappeared.

Feeling a little better while sitting up in bed is one thing, retaining that feeling while trying to support yourself on legs that seemed less than user friendly was quite another.

Once again I reached the centre of the continent the room had turned into feeling thoroughly wretched and out of breath, my heart hammering as if I’d run a Marathon and then to cap it all, the dam cough started. I utilised the floor as a stretcher, lying down on it and closing my eyes, until the spasm passed.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

I opened my eyes to find a tray-bearing figure gazing at me over the top of half moon glasses with a distinct air of disapproval.

“Lying on the floor,” I said weakly, “I fancied a change, you know what they say, a change is as good as a rest.” Rolling onto my front I got myself onto all fours and prepared to make for the wardrobe, which reputedly held my clothes.

“Youth must have its fling, I suppose.” He set the

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