The Head In My Hands

He wasn’t in the bathroom anymore, he couldn’t be. The softness of the comforter on his skin a stark contrast to the cold tiled floor.

When had he moved?

He floated somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, the edges of his mind soft and blurred. The pain had dulled to a distant hum, no longer sharp and all-consuming, but still present enough to not fade along with the rest of his awareness. He shifted slightly, his body feeling heavy and sluggish, but there was a warmth beside him, something steady anchoring him.

A hand—familiar and gentle—threaded through his hair, the touch soft and rhythmic, lulling him back into the haze. He could feel it in the way the fingers moved, so careful and deliberate, like whoever was afraid of hurting him, even now.

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Marley stirred, the faint ache in his head pulling him from the depths of sleep. His body felt heavy, limbs sore and stiff, but the sharpness of the pain had dulled. The worst of it was over. He blinked his eyes open slowly, the room coming into focus through the early morning light streaming in through the curtains.

Everything felt a little disjointed, like the pieces of the night were scattered in his mind. He didn’t remember much after the bathroom, just fragments of Emrys’s voice and his hand in Marley’s hair. Now, as his senses came back to him, he could feel the dull, lingering soreness across his body, but it wasn’t unbearable. The storm had passed.

Marley shifted slightly, feeling the weight of his body protest as he turned onto his side. His eyes fell on his phone, now resting on the bedside table where it hadn’t been before. He stared at it for a moment, confusion clouding his thoughts. He didn’t remember putting it back.

Then, as his gaze travelled a little further, he saw Emrys. He was sitting on a small stool right next to the bed, his upper half slumped forward, resting on the blankets. Emrys’s arms were folded beneath him, his head nestled into the crook of his elbow. Completely out like a light, his chest rose and fell softly with each breath, completely oblivious to Marley’s wakefulness.

The sight made Marley’s heart clench. He didn’t remember Emrys being there when he drifted off, and he certainly didn’t remember him dragging a stool over to sit by his side all night. Marley’s eyes softened as he took in the peaceful expression on Emrys’s sleeping face, the concern that had clearly weighed on him now gone in the tranquillity of sleep.

Marley swallowed thickly

Without thinking, he reached out, his hand shaky as he gently trailed his fingers down the side of Emrys’s face. His skin was warm with sleep beneath Marley’s touch, the soft rise and fall of his breathing steady and calm.

He stayed. All night.

The thought settled in, slow but certain, wrapping around him like a blanket. Emrys had stayed. Even after everything, he hadn’t left Marley’s side, hadn’t gone back to his own bed. He was still here.

Marley’s thumb brushed lightly over Emrys’s cheekbone, and he felt his throat tighten. He didn’t deserve this—this kind of care, this kind of loyalty—but here Emrys was

With a quiet sigh, Marley turned his attention to his brick, resting beside Emrys. He picked it up and winced as the screen lit up, showing a long list of missed messages. Khairi had sent him multiple texts throughout the night, the last one reading :

– you alive???

Scrolling down, he noticed several from Emma as well, leave it to Khairi to overthink everything :

Hey, Khairi’s worried. You good? Seriously, just let us know you're okay. Marley, please.

His chest tightened, guilt settling in. He hadn't meant to worry them, but between the pain and exhaustion, responding had been the last thing on his mind.

Marley typed out a quick response, his fingers still feeling clumsy from the lingering soreness:

hey, I’m alright. Emrys took care of me. sorry i worried you.

He hit send, hoping that would be enough to ease their concerns. Almost immediately, a message from Emma popped up:

Don’t apologise. Just glad you’re okay.

– good to know. don’t do that again tho, seriously :(

Marley frowned faintly at their concern, but the tightness in his chest loosened a bit. He set the phone back down quietly, careful not to disturb Emrys, who was still fast asleep beside him.

His muscles protested as he slowly lifted one arm, pressing his palm into the mattress for leverage. He moved cautiously, not wanting to disturb the quiet, not wanting to wake Emrys, who was still resting beside him. The ache in his limbs made even the smallest movement feel monumental, as if his body were made of lead.

With a shaky inhale, he tried to push himself upright. The room seemed to sway for a moment, dizziness blurring the edges of his vision. Marley grit his teeth, determined to at least sit up on his own, but his strength faltered. His elbows buckled beneath him, and before he could brace himself, his back hit the pillows again with a soft thud. “Shit–”

The motion sent a wave of vertigo through him, making his head spin as he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a quiet, frustrated sigh. He glanced toward Emrys, who stirred at the sound.

“Marls?” Emrys muttered groggily, lifting his head from where it rested on the bed. He blinked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. The fog of sleep cleared quickly as concern took over his expression. “How are you doing? Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah, I feel better,” Marley hummed, the sound a little raspy as he spoke. He shifted slightly, testing the limits of his discomfort. “Somewhat, anyway. Just… still sore.” He winced a little at the movement, but the dull ache was much more manageable now. “I think I’ll probably need to call out of work for the day,” he added, the weight pressing down on him.

Emrys shook his head firmly, a soft frown crossing his face. “No, don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “I took care of it already.” He leaned back slightly, propping himself up with one arm as he met Marley’s gaze, his expression filled with that unwavering concern. “I texted my boss and asked Khairi to text yours that you’d be taking the day off. You need to rest, not stress about work.”

Marley blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude swelling in his chest. “You… you did all that?” His voice came out softer than he intended, filled with warmth.

“Of course,” Emrys replied, his tone lightening as a small smile broke through the concern. “You were out of it last night, and the last thing I wanted was for you to feel overwhelmed.”

Marley frowned, a small knot of guilt forming in his stomach. “But– didn’t you have that presentation today?” he asked, his voice shaky. “I don’t want you to miss that, your students need you.” he added, his concern evident in his tone.

Emrys shook his head with a soft smile. “It’s fine– Really,” he said, his voice steady. “I’d rather stay here and keep an eye on you.” He leaned a little closer, the warmth of his presence washing over Marley like a gentle wave. “You really scared me last night. I was worried sick.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, his heart heavy. “I just… I was fine.”

Emrys frowned, but didn’t add anything else, stroking a thumb over the palm of Marley's hand.

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They decided to stay in. Well , ‘decided’ – Marley didn’t have a choice, moving was an annoyance and a pain, and Emrys, well, he’s always been opportunistic.

Sitting at the dining room table with his arms crossed, Marley watched Emrys bustle around the kitchen. Despite both of them being awake, Emrys moved with a softness and caution as if moving too fast or being too loud would break the glass fragile energy of the room. The only sounds being Emrys soft shuffling and the ever gentle hum of the kettle on the stove.

He sipped from a potion bottle while Emrys made tea, the strong and almost bitter tang of the medicine mixing with the warm smell of ginger and lemon.

Light streamed through the window.

The cardboard game box of ‘Carassonne’ sat only about two inches from him, Emrys might’ve told him to get the game ready, but it sat untouched.

“Do you want honey in your tea?” Emrys asked, speaking up over the sound of Marley's thoughts, his voice a deep rumble against the sharp clink of the spoon hitting the side of the ceramic mug.

“No thank you.”

“You sure? This sure smells strong.” Emrys prodded, eyebrows raised to his hairline, teasing.

Marley huffs out a laugh, and reaches his hands out, encouraging Emrys to hand him the tea. “It's ginger Em, it's supposed to be strong.”

Emrys shrugs, “If you’re sure.” And hands him the mug, the warmth sinking into Marley's palms as he cusps his hands around it.

Knowing what he knows now, the way Emrys hands seem to linger–

He ignores the swell in his stomach, he cannot tell if it's the sting of bitterness or the start of hope.

“I'm sure.” He takes a sip of the tea, it's bitter and strong like he knew but– maybe honey wouldn’t have been too bad.

“Did you make yourself a cup?”

Emrys grimaces, “And force myself to drink that? Nooo thank you”

“You drink Masala all the time, how can this be any different–”

“It just is!” Emrys argues, pulling back the chair across from Marley and sitting down, he points a– clearly joking– finger at Marley from across the table. “You’re weakened right now– don’t make me fight you.”

He squawks and almost chokes on his tea. “Over tea? Is that the hill you want to die on?”

Emrys doesn’t answer, but waves a hand back-and-forth as if to say ‘so be it’.

Marley hides a smile behind his mug and takes a deep swig of the ginger tea, letting the warmth travel down his throat and settle in his stomach. If he relaxes his focus, it almost feels like the swirling in his stomach dissipates immediately the moment the tea slides down.

“You’re ridiculous” He said, finally, setting down the mug on a lace doily.

Emrys leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Ridiculous? Maybe. Dedicated? Definitely. You should know by now that I’m committed–”

Yeah… he was wasn't he?

He rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that-” He huffed, “ honestly.”

When he stretched his arms over his head, the familiar soreness seeped down from his forearms into his shoulder blades, and he quickly lowered them. The ache wasn’t as sharp but…. No, a little tea, some rest, and company and he’ll be just fine.

Emrys slid the box from next to Marley and over to himself, flipping open the top and pulling out the game mat. No comments on his earlier request for Marley to do it.

“Alright!” Emrys chirped, “Nothing like Carcassonne to help with recovery.”

Marley pursed his lips and raised a brow, “Who’s recovery? Yours or mine?” Emrys had always been better at this game, and the little shit knew that when he picked the box off their game shelf. “You’re still trying to beat me when I’m down– I can't believe you.”

His words are playful, a breath of fresh air against the fragility.

Emrys shot him a grin, shaking the pieces onto the table. “Its not about me winning Marls– I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like that!”

Emrys bit his lip as he focused on setting up the tiles. Marley tried not to watch too closely. “It's about building an empire, and you’’ be thanking me when your cities flourish!”

Marley scoffed, feigning disbelief. “You’re the one constantly blocking my cities, don’t act like you’re doing me a favour.”

Emrys just shrugged, the face of innocence.

“I block with strategy. It's not personal.”

He levelled a flat look at the other man. “Uh huh, sure.”

Emrys continued to shuffle the tiles, and they fell into a familiar yet comfortable silence. It was nice, he realised, to have this. He could have this. He could have something that didn’t require anything more than he was already giving.

Marley felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. This was good. This was what he needed. Not just the game, but this quiet, easy rhythm.

“Ready to lose?” Emrys quipped, eyebrows raised, knocking Marley from his thoughts yet again.

Marley smirked, and rubbed the ache from his chest with a shaky hand, “you’re bold Emrys.” He reached for the first tile, a little more himself.