{"If it weren't for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song" - Carl Perkins... Today’s post contains three entries for @vermillionfox’s Foxtales contest... No music-aides for today.}

Drawing by the lovely @vermillionfox

- Bed-ridden -

Hands inch closely together, the fingers squirming through the gaps of the hands as the blanket hums a quiet slidling song. The mouth spurts out bouts of curling coughs to the wide air, perhaps even a few free blood cells were adventurous enough to join - soon finding their plunge to the sheets. Helping not that the blood isn’t the only one annoying the sheets, bouts of sweat swim across the weaves and fabric of the cotton clothe. Oh how the heat entrapped underneath the thin layers of skin and the thin weave of the sheets only make the flowing course of pain all the sorts faster. Yet the bedroom door aches a creak out, no fault but that the hinges rustily resists rotation and the room rather wishing to not absorb the noise. Pairs of courframs click on the wooden tiles, stopping short of the bedside with a bag dropping unto the floor. As the rustle-n-tusling of the bag bellows from inside there, another arduous aching session of coughs escape the confines of the throat as they burst through the mouth. Some clusters of blood finding home in the nasal canals before finding the grade of the canals to steep. The concoction of liquid blood and hardy carbon-dioxide only reddening and burning the esophagus to high heck. The tools chinking in the air, a rosemary slides into the locked pairing of the hands as alcohol quickly travels down the scarred esophagus. To the ears of the bed-ridden patient before the mind drifts away to another short session to the eternal slumber’s tranquility is the mere cacophony of footsteps and blurs of colours that warp around. With the lasting seconds, the mind makes the travel across the quietly dark place; eyes abiding to the request by shutting close any new light.

- Clothe-care -

"Okay, there are the bed sheets! Why are they in this room of all places? Ba humbug! Doesn’t matter now that I got them and know where they are. Now, back to the room before it’s too late. Crap, why do stacked sheets have be so unbearably heavy to carry. New plan, carry in parts and droves; better ask for a dolly when I’m back. But they need what number of bed sheets again? Whatever, I can check in with them the exact number. One, two, three, four, five... okay twenty I can barely manage. Time to get back to the room before those poor folk shiver another minute more when those blankets should’ve been adequate. If only someone didn’t just blast a god- shouldn’t swear in the Lord’s name. But if that hole didn’t appear, the cold would’ve not stolen all the fleeting warmth. If only the other rooms had space and were as air-tight as that room was. Unfortunately, this hospital can’t be bothered as more patients come in then leave. Damn this plague, can’t even walk straight without eventually becoming a patient like them all - just I with broken legs and feet. Oh crap, excuse me! Sorry! Hey, don’t close the elevator! Thanks, I needed that; these blankets are more heavier than usual. Heh... maybe if I could rest, then they be heck of a more lighter. Not much of a talker sweetie? Well that’s fine by me I guess, bit rude. Come on, come on - hurry up elevator, any second now. Oh, come on, one more floor, just get there already! Finally, have a good day but my task is highly urgent. Okay, just a few more steps; I’m almost there, almost there. Just need to fight past the bellowing screams of my legs - oh peck!"

- Holding -

As the hands slide across the weaves of the cotton sheets, travelling up the bumps of a mountain of another body lying underneath. Hands finally finding each other, the fingers slowly but assuredly come to lock each other in place as the lying body just underneath eases up. A sigh escaping from her mouth, the bottomed lass’s lips could only curl up - not minding the oddity of the small bed. As her mind can revel in the joys of her exhausted partner piled above her, equally ready to give into exhaustion both faced. Yet they kept on pushing as long to keep consciously moving every second together, never wanting to fleeting moment to truly flee. As such: the bottomed lass’s body was thankful of the topling lass’s mass not crushing her hard, shown back her appreciation by her hands sinking further down - pressing who knows what body part as the blanket sheet masked well. The topling lass’s mouth squeaking a moan, her hands coursed through the small of the mid back and reached the behind of the bottomed lass’s short-haired head. With a repeat on the bottomed lass’s part to her topling lass’s long messy-haired head, a slight pressure helping with the displacement of heads and the necks torquing in time, both of the lips landed smoothly and connected for a final kiss after a long night of such a bedside activity. Though not done with the same energy as before, the passion still danced in between their mouths and tongues before the lips sealed closed. As exhaustion finally forced them to rest as their bodies gave out, the toppling lass collapsed on top of her. And so, the only noise in the room was the ruffle-shuffle of unconscious body parts under sheets - which Nature herself tried to compete.

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Two things: been getting into watching more of "Hallow Knight" and been thinking of a certain Grimm... a certain master of Troupes. Dunno, might be seen in a recent @bananafish Finish the Story contest near you...