Rosco was moving very slowly. He hadn't been to work in days. Charlotte really wasn't much better. He felt as if they were both dying slowly like those great poets who had Tuberculosis centuries ago. Somehow they managed to be brilliant. Making it all so dark and romantic. A vampire haven. Rosco knew that wouldn't be him.
"Kal called." Rosco could barely speak as he tried to touch Charlotte's face in the dark, but he got the back of head instead and a wad of messy hair.
"Where is he?" Charlotte barely lifted her head from her pillow.
"Down stairs." Rosco looked at her sleepily. "I don't think they want us to be around them this weekend. They've got the baby, and you know he doesn't want us to breathe on Whitney."
He was pretty sure Charlotte couldn't move, anyway.
"I would call for pizza, but I don't think I could really eat it. I just want noodles. Hot steamy noodle soup." Rosco rose up on his elbows. He thought he heard thunder.
"Oh, that sounds so good. The soup. Not the thunder." She sounded sexy with her raspy voice, but Rosco couldn't think anymore than just that. A part of him really thought he might feel better if they had sex, but honestly, he wasn't sure he was up to it . Well, something was, just not the rest of him.
"I'm going to see if I can make it downstairs and make us some soup." He sat up on the edge of the bed.
"Maybe I should do it." She actually got up. "I think I'm better. I really am." She yawned. "I had a dream." She looked back at Rosco. "I dreamed I found out something about you."
"That you had a baby."
"I had a baby?" That woke him up. "I gave birth to a baby?"
"No, silly, somebody had your baby." She laughed as if she might be drunk.
"Was it cute?"
"Of course." She drifted off then. The rain came and Rosco laid back down as if he could feel the rain wash over him. What had Charlotte been dreaming?
When he woke up, she was there with soup. Hot soup. Soup that made his throat feel so much better. He forgot about the dream she mentioned. He hoped she'd forget it too.