**In the Depths of Illness**

Prompt: After spending al day being sick simon yates hoped to get a peacefull nights rest, but was quikly disapointed. Simon woke up in the night batteling a heavy wave of nausea. It was a battle he was losing. He barly maneged to lean ofer the side of the bed befor he was sick al over. The sound of simon being sick woke his wife emily who had ben sleeping besides him up. She wisperd comforting words to him as she handed him a bucket an started cleaning up the mess that was made. Simon felt incredably guilty for making a mess. The feeling of his guilt did not help with his nausea and soon he was sick again. Emily was beside him in seconds to take care of him

After spending all day being sick, Simon Yates hoped to get a peaceful night’s rest, but was quickly disappointed. The evening passed slowly, every tick of the clock announcing the return of cramps in his stomach, relentless reminders of the illness that had plagued him. He had retreated to the cozy haven of his bedroom, where the soft linens promised solace. However, as the darkness spread across the sky, it ushered in an unwelcome wave of nausea that rolled over him like an ominous tide. It was just past midnight when he stirred, the sickening churn in his gut becoming an urgent alarm, demanding his attention. Simon shot up in bed, feeling a sweat break on his forehead as he fought against the wave crashing over him. It was a struggle he was losing. He barely managed to lean over the side of the bed before the contents of his stomach erupted violently, shattering the quiet of the night. The rancid feeling took over, spilling out uncontrollably as he heaved into the unforgiving darkness. The force of his illness echoed throughout the room, jolting Emily awake beside him. Her instinct kicked in immediately; she turned from sleep to alert in seconds, her voice a soft balm in the chaotic night. “Simon,” she whispered, concerned yet soothing. “Oh, dear, I’m here.” As she fumbled for the bucket they kept by the bed for emergencies, Simon’s heart sank further. He felt debased, ashamed to be so vulnerable, to be a burden to the woman he loved. He could hear her shifting and hurriedly gathering supplies, and it compounded his discomfort. The sound of him being sick, mixed with the smell that filled the room, made the whole experience unbearable. Emily placed the bucket gently before him, her touch reassuring, yet his guilt weighed heavy. “I’m sorry, love,” Simon croaked, a bitter taste still lingering in his mouth. He wished with all his heart that he could have handled this better, that he could keep the mess away from Emily, keep the burden off her shoulders. But the reality of the night was harsh, and his body was refusing to cooperate. The wave crashed again. Before he could fully comprehend the horror of the moment, the next bout of nausea overpowered him. The room spun as he leaned over the bucket, succumbing to the queasiness that held him hostage. Emily was there beside him, quick and unwavering, her movements practiced yet tender. She stroked his back with gentle caresses, whispering words of calm that flew like feathers through the tumult around them. “You’ll be okay, Simon. Just breathe.” Breathe. That was the only thing he seemed incapable of doing. With each labored inhale, the guilt swallowed him again, attempting to drown him in self-reproach. How could he impose this on Emily? She was tired, her cheeks still flushed with sleep and her eyes barely open. Yet there she was, performing an act of love that he felt underserving of. “Please, Emily, don’t...” he began, voice cracking from exhaustion and the strain of illness. But she cut him off with a steady hand on his shoulder. “Enough, Simon. Just focus on getting better,” she insisted, pragmatism softening her tone. Her resolve shone through the weariness and worry in her eyes, grounding him in his chaotic state. She always knew what to say when the world felt too heavy, her presence like an anchor in turbulent seas. In the throes of sickness, time lost meaning. Each heave and groan felt like an eternity. Emily continued to clean up the mess, her steady hands moving with efficiency; the bucket, the wipes, the faint scent of antiseptics mingling with the pungent aroma of sickness. Nothing detoured her, not the distress painted on Simon’s face or the sound of his internal battle echoing against the walls. Then, as swiftly as the nausea had seized him, a moment of stillness fell. Simon leaned against the bedside, spent and trembling, the effort of it all leaving him weak. For a moment, as he gazed at the weary expression on Emily’s face, painted faintly in the dim light of the bedside lamp, something deep within him thawed. “Why do you do this?” he managed, his voice barely a whisper, laden with exhaustion. “You could be sleeping. You shouldn’t have to deal with this... me.” “Because I love you,” Emily replied, her voice unyielding yet tender as she took a moment to meet his gaze. There was a fierceness in her eyes that shone brightly in the dim, sickly glow of the room. “And I would do this a thousand times over if it meant you’d feel better. This is what we do for the ones we love.” Her words were a salve against the nausea, and for a split second, he felt the weight of guilt begin to lift. She was right; their love was built on this very foundation, the willingness to navigate through storms, even the storms that were born from illness. It wrapped around him like a warm blanket, conceding that he wouldn’t have to face this alone. Another wave of nausea crested, and Emily was right by his side again, a steadfast figure against the winds of discomfort. As he leaned over, she rubbed soothing circles along his back, never faltering, just like the love they had built through years together. Even in his worst moments, something beautiful emerged—a deeper connection, a bond framed by vulnerability and compassion. Maybe peace wasn’t about being free from illness, but rather about finding solace in the embrace of someone who understood him wholly, even in the depths of sickness. And with that thought, he closed his eyes, hoping that as dawn broke, it would gently sweep away his fears and grant both him and Emily the rest they so desperately needed.