I Wish I Had Richard By My Side To Numb The Pain. Migrains Are The Worst, I Know That Pain Very Well.

I wish I had Richard by my side to numb the pain. Migrains are the worst, I know that pain very well.

Shout out to all my fellow migraine sufferers. I feel you.

“Are you okay love?” Richard asks, watching you toss and turn next to him. Sweat is covering your body and you throw the covers off and sit up with tears already stinging your eyes. He turns his bedside light on and you flinch away, covering your eyes and letting out a groan.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologises, quickly turning it off again, “have you got your tablets over there?”

You plonk your hand down on your own table, moving it around to find the pill packet and then shake it so he knows you’ve found them.

“I’ll get you some water,” he whispers, kissing the back of your head. You sit up against the headboard, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and fanning yourself with the duvet, then Richard comes back in, lit from behind by the hall light, and hands you a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your speech a little slurred from the effects of the pounding in your head. This occured more often than you liked, and it got worse each time you woke up in the middle of the night with a migraine, but you were lucky you had Richard to support you.

He watches carefully as the slither of light coming through just about shows you taking your tablet, then he holds his hand out for the water when you’ve taken a few more sips.

“Sit back… That’s it,” he soothes, propping your pillows up behind you, making sure you’re comfortable, “do you want the fan on?”

You shake your head as a shiver runs up your body, and you violently shudder, much to Richard’s concern, then he pulls the duvet up a little. You never knew what to do when this happened, you’d be dripping with sweat and also shivering with the hairs on your arms standing on end, it was a horrible feeling.

“Do you need me to- …oh, okay, it’s okay,” he says, cutting himself off as you start retching into a plastic bag you kept by your bed for emergencies. He strokes your hair back away from your face, tucking it behind your ear so it didn’t fall into the bag, and as you flop back with your head feeling as though it were splitting in two, he takes the bag away, carefully placing it on the floor to deal with when you manage to sleep again.

He reaches across you for your eye mask and gently lowers it over your head for when he turns the light on, and when he settles back next to you, he takes your hand. The pills your doctor had given you were strong and he knew you didn’t like being on your own when you took them, so this was a great comfort to you. You squeeze his hand and he brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m here,” he reassures. You nod, and your foot starts tapping fiercely under the covers, the only thing you could do to try and take away from the pain. It takes about half an hour for your pill to kick in, and your head falls to one side as you finally drift off, the pain lessened enough for you to relax a little. The grip on Richard’s hand loosens and he slips his fingers out of yours to pick the bag up and head downstairs to put it out in the rubbish.

“Oh, (Y/N),” he sighs as he walks back into the house and locks the door again. His eyes flick up to the clock in the kitchen to see it’s half four in the morning, and makes himself a cup of tea to take to bed. He’d seen this countless times before, but it didn’t get any easier for him, and he could only sit and watch helplessly as you writhe around in pain. He makes his way carefully back upstairs, switching lights off behind him, and finds you now snuggled down in bed properly, the duvet pulled up around you, your eye mask still covering the top part of your face. Placing his tea down, he pulls back his side of the covers and gently gets inside, then sits there sipping his drink, his eyes still darting to your body with each movement you make.

“Night,” he whispers as he sets his empty cup on the bedside table and turns the light off. He kisses your head then lays down on his pillow, falling asleep to the soft sounds of your breathing.

You wake first the next morning and push your eye mask up and off of your head to see Richard still fast asleep next to you. Your head was fuzzy, but it was better than the pain you felt in the night, and you lean over to him to kiss his forehead. When you get out of bed, you take his cup and head downstairs to make you both some tea, tiptoeing down the creaky stairs carefully. As you stand waiting for the kettle to boil, hands slip around your waist and come to a stop on your stomach.

“Go back to bed. You need to rest,” Richard whispers against your neck, soft kisses following his words.

“I wanted tea,” you reply, leaning back into his chest, your words still strung together as if you’d had a drink or 3.

“You should have woken me up.”

“But you looked so handsome laying there, I couldn’t disturb you.”

“You… Are… Naughty…” he growls between kisses. You smile as his stubble tickles your neck, then your head spins and you grip onto his forearms tightly as you lose your balance.

“Okay, back to bed, now,” he orders, knowing you still weren’t feeling great, “I’ll bring the tea up.”

“I’m fine,” you sigh, leaning on the kitchen counter as he releases you and you take a couple of unsteady steps.

“You’re not,” he says sternly, “up those stairs.”

“Yes, sir,” you mock, rolling your eyes.

“When you’re better, you’re going to pay for that,” he winks.

@springlady