Do You Know How I Got Sick

Percival’s way of comforting people is like how you’d soothe a kitten or a puppy. To him, Eulalia’s furious outbursts are as harmless as a puff of air.

“Who’s making a fuss with you?”

“Alright, alright, you’re not fussing. Let’s eat. If you don’t want the candied hawthorns, fine, I won’t buy them for you anymore.” He had thought Eulalia really liked them.

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Percival didn’t insist on taking Eulalia to a movie. Seeing that she wasn’t feeling great after dinner and seemed sleepy, he just took her home.

As soon as they got in the car, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Her drowsiness was a side effect of the medication prescribed by her psychiatrist. Taking too much of it wasn’t good for her health, but without it, she couldn’t manage her condition. It’s a catch-22; the medicine is a necessary evil that she has to gradually reduce.

She didn’t wake up even when they got home. Percival was about to carry her inside when his fingers barely touched her waist, and she woke up.