I cleared my throat and held my phone up to my ear. "Hey, mum," I called out. 

"Hey, Sophie, how's my baby?" my mum croaked into the phone.

 I smiled a little, relieved that her voice sounded a little clearer than the last time we spoke. Ever since she started chemo, she's always got some sort of cold or another. 

"Your baby's fine. She's fully recovered from chucking herself off the side of a horse, if you were wondering," I snorted as I flopped down on the sofa.

I quickly released my mistake when she let out a sharp breath. "I still can't believe you didn't even tell me you went to Greece. I could literally kill you," she snapped into the phone. 

I flinched away from the phone with a wince. "Yeah, I know, I know. I'm sorry, okay," I mumbled as I sunk lower down on the sofa.

"Anyway, enough about that. Tell me about your date, your father told me you went on one yesterday?" she asked, her voice lively with excitement.

I paused and brought my mind back to that date. It literally couldn't have gone any worse. Not only did I ditch my date, but then I proceeded to fuck around with another guy at the back of the club and then proceed to give that guy my bra. 

Oh, and just to make it even more ridiculous, I managed to convince my date that I was into incest too.

Of course, I couldn't tell my mum that, so instead, I anxiously cleared my throat. "It was good, but I er...don't think it's going to work out," I said slowly, deciding to leave it at that.

 "Wait, what? What do you mean? I thought it was with Nathan?" she rambled out in confusion.

I shook my head frantically despite the fact she couldn't see me. "No, absolutely not. Nathan and I are friends," I corrected quickly. 

"Oh, I thought he was- oh, never mind," she said slowly, a heavy layer of disappointment to her tone.

"Mum, you don't have to sound so disappointed, you're making me feel guilty," I whined into the phone. 

"Well, you should be, I saw him on face-time, and he looked cute as hell. Can't you tell a good baby daddy when you see one?" she snapped out frustratedly. 

My eyes widened at the re-emergence of baby talk. "Why the fuck do you keep talking about me having babies with him. It's starting to creep me out," I cried. "

Why can't I?" she argued.

"Because he's not my boyfriend!" I yelled into the phone.

 She let out a weird half grumble, half-whine as though she was having a tantrum, and then ignored me. Let's say my mum was a little bit too invested in my love life...

Deciding to change the topic, I cleared my throat. "Anyway, mum, do you...do you... know if you're going to be able to go home for Christmas?" I asked softly with a heavy amount of caution to my tone. I tried not to sound too hung up on the question, but I couldn't help it. I really wanted her home. It wasn't Christmas without her.

"Oh my god, I completely forgot to tell you. They're letting me go home, honey. They say I'm responding so much better to the treatment, isn't that great?" She squealed. 

"Wait, what?" I screamed as I jumped off the sofa in excitement. "This is amazing, I can't believe-Oh my god, I told you mum, see, I told you you'd be fine," I rambled out with a Cheshire-sized grin on my face.

I heard my mum laugh through the phone. "Sophie, they said it was getting better, not that I was cured," she chuckled. 

"Shhh, let me have this moment," I snapped scodingly into the phone.

She chuckled again. "Anyway, honey, I've got to get going now the nurses are rushing me along."

"Okay, okay, fine, see you then. Give dad and the twins a hug for me if you get home before I do, okay?" I insisted with a smile.

 She laughed. "Will do, bye honey," she called before the receiver line went dead.

Finishing off my overly excited happy dance, I flopped back down onto the sofa with a jubilant smile. At least one thing about my life was turning for the better.

As I had that thought, my phone vibrated in my hands, indicating I had a message. Furrowing my brows, I slowly lifted the phone up to my face to see what notification had popped up.

As soon as I saw who the text message was from, I stiffened. Reluctantly, and despite knowing how dangerous it was to engage, I clicked on it.

Natalie: I'm sick.

What on earth...

I scanned the message from back to front, but it still kept reading the same way. Who the hell texts someone that they are sick with no further details?

My fingers hovered over the keypad as I wrestled with the idea of replying. After yesterday's disastrous date, I made a vow with myself to seize all contact with Nathan for his sake. 

But I suppose one text message couldn't hurt...

And with that thought, my fingers slowly started to move over the letters.

Me: Unless you're confirming that you're sick in the head, would you care to elaborate?

Once I sent the message, I barely had to wait a nanosecond before three new messages appeared right after one another.

Natalie: I've got a really nasty cold. I can barely get out of bed.

Natalie: I could really use some help, Sophie.

Natalie: Please?

Immediately an alarm bell went off in my head to warn me that there was a high chance he was lying. I mean, he was so full of life yesterday, and now he was suddenly sick. It had suspicious written all over it.

I was about to type back that I wasn't born yesterday and that he wasn't going to trick me into walking into his apartment, but then I paused.

What if he was telling the truth? What if he really was sick? I frowned as a horrible image of Nathan shivering, all cold and alone in bed, came to mind. It wasn't like he had a roommate or any friends besides me. And he had tirelessly looked after me both times I was injured.

My heart turned over in guilt as I thought of more, and more horrendous scenarios. Then without even thinking, my fingers started to rapidly move over the keypad.

Me: Okay, I'll be over in 10.

As soon as I sent the message, I stared back at it with a heavy sigh. That text message undeniably proved one hard cold true fact - Nathan Woods had me wrapped around his finger.

----------------------

With a heavy sigh, I came to a stop outside the door of Nathan's apartment. I tried to talk myself out of coming around five or so times on my walk here, but for some reason, I kept walking. It was like he had some weird Jedi mind powers over me or some shit.

I pressed the doorbell and awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot as I waited for him to come to the door. In no time at all, almost as though he was waiting on the other side of the door for me; his apartment door swung wide open.

Nathan stood before me with one arm stretched out lazily against the wooden frame of the door. I knew there was trouble brewing when he scanned me from head to toe with tendrils of amusement dancing through his eyes. 

"You don't look sick," I said bluntly, deciding not to beat around the bush.

His smile dropped from his face a second later, and he immediately swiped his hand off the door before hunching over in a heavy coughing fit.

I raised a singular eyebrow as I watched his terrible performance.

 "Hmm, nice try. I'm leaving," I said flatly before turning to go. 

"Hey, wait," Nathan said, stopping me with a hand on my wrist. 

I let out a heavy sigh and turned back around. Those intense green eyes of his set on mine pleadingly. "I swear I am sick, Sophie. Please stay. I didn't know who else to call," he said softly, his eyes all wide and innocent.

Don't fall for it, Sophie. It's a trap. It's a trap. Run Sophie, run!

"Okay, fine," I mumbled, my resolve melting. Then pushing past him, I entered the apartment.

"Yes," Nathan cheered in celebration. 

I whipped myself back around and narrowed my eyes into daggers. His smile faded, and fear shone through Nathan's eyes. 

"I...mean, I er..thanks, Sophie. Thanks for being such a good friend," he said with a slightly nervous laugh as his eyes moved back and forth frantically.

My eyes narrowed even further, and I took an intimidating step closer to him. "Look, Nathan, I'm not your bitch, okay. If I'm looking after you, you're doing exactly what I say, exactly when I want you to do it. Got it?" I hissed.

His mouth twitched. "Yes, ma'am," he winked as he gave me an army salute. 

I rolled my eyes with a scoff. "Go wait for me in your bed. I'll be there in a second," I said, giving him a half-hearted shove towards the direction of his room.

The second the words left my mouth, he froze, a layer of both excitement and astonishment bursting through his eyes. "My bed? You want me to wait for you in my bed?" he repeated, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine like a mad man. 

I stared at him blankly, wondering why he was acting like I had just told him the best news of his life. 

His lips wrestled with a smile for about a second before he gave up, and let his muscles give away to a full-blown grin. "I mean, I haven't heard of that method to make a sick person feel better, but I totally trust your opinion and-"

"Woah, no!" I suddenly interrupted, shaking my head wildly from side to side as I realized what he meant. "Nathan. What the fuck? I'm not offering to sleep with you. I meant you should wait for me in your room," I stammered quickly.

His smile vaporized in a second, and his lips moved back into a flattened line of disappointment. "Oh," he said simply.

 "Yeah, oh," I repeated back with a snap. 

Nathan broke eye contact with me and suddenly seemed very interested on the floor. "I...er...I knew that t-that's what I meant," he said, correcting himself quickly with an awkward cough.

"Hmm, I bet you did," I drawled as I looked him up and down slyly.

 Nathan coughed once again. "So, cool, guess I'll just..er get going to the bedroom," he mumbled before scurrying off to his room.

I watched him go with a raised eyebrow and then shook my head at him in amusement. He was truly something else.

Once he was gone, I wandered over to his kitchen cupboards and pulled them open. If Nathan wanted someone to look after his sick clearly faking-it arse then I was going to show him exactly why he shouldn't mess with me. 

I hadn't forgotten the time when I was sick when he had force-fed me shit-tomato soup. So now, I was going to get revenge.

 With that thought, I carefully rummaged my way through his cupboards before pulling out a bottle of ketchup and a jar of marmalade. Since Nathan liked the soup so much, I was about to make him a unique little version of it, and I was going to ensure that bastard drank every last drop. 

Nathan Woods, well and truly, had a storm coming. 

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Author's note: 

Double update, swipe for more xx