Making It Personal by Wells, C. (best non fiction books of all time txt) 📗

into the kitchen to pour Blake a coffee before walking back into his office and approaching the adjoining door, knocking softly. No answer. Will opened the door and blinked in surprise. The room was darkened, the blinds drawn completely over the windows. Will slipped into the room. Blake wasn’t at his desk, but Will soon spied him. Blake was stretched out on the sofa, arm over his eyes.

“Blake?” Will spoke softly, barely above a whisper. Something was definitely wrong.

Blake whimpered, a sound full of pain. Will put down the mug on the desk and moved to the sofa, dropping to his knees beside Blake. “What’s wrong?” He kept his voice as quiet as possible.

Blake peered at him from beneath his arm. Will caught his breath. Despite the darkened room, he could see how pale Blake was. His eyes were slits. “Migraine.” The word was just about audible.

Oh hell. Will gently lifted Blake’s arm away from his eyes. “Okay, tell me. Do you have classic or common migraine?” When Blake’s eyes tightened, his brow furrowed, Will tried a different tack. “Do you get visual disturbances, flashing lights, feeling nauseous, or is it just pain?”

Blake’s brow cleared a little. “Pain. Dark helps, though.” He winced as though pain had suddenly coursed through him.

Okay, common migraine. Will could deal with that. “Have you taken anything for it?”

“Don’t have anything with me.”

Will thought quickly. “Okay, I’m going to sort you out some painkillers, and then I’m going to help you get rid of it. All right?” Blake gave an almost imperceptible nod. Will got to his feet and slipped from the room into his office, pushing Blake’s door shut after him. He picked up his phone and speed dialed Beth.

“Beth, do you have any of those tablets left that you were taking last week?” Poor Beth had been in agony the previous week with a bad back, and had finally been sent home. Will knew she was taking some pretty strong painkillers. He mentally crossed his fingers.

“Yes, Will, I’ve got two left in my handbag. Why? You okay?”

Will could have cried with relief. “I’m fine, Blake’s not so good. Can I have them?”

“On my way.” And she was gone.

Within minutes Beth was at his door, holding out the two capsules and a glass of water. “Is it a migraine?” Will could read the concern in her eyes. “He gets them now and again, but it’s been a while.”

Will thanked her and after taking the glass and the medication, he went back into Blake’s office. He knelt once more on the floor beside Blake.

“Blake, I need you to sit up, just for a second, so you can take some tablets. Are you allergic to anything?

Blake gave out a low moan. “N-no. H-hurts.” He struggled to sit upright.

Will’s heart went out to him. He knew from past experience the misery migraines could cause, though he’d never had one personally. He sat beside Blake and after placing the glass precariously between his thighs, he put an arm around Blake’s shoulder, supporting him. He dropped the capsules into his hand and then reclaimed the glass, watching as Blake took careful mouthfuls. The medication taken, he eased Blake to lie down once more, but after grabbing a cushion and placing it across his lap, he cradled Blake’s head on the cushion.

“I’m going to help you, but you’ll have to trust me. “ Blake’s only response was a low whimper, but he moved his hand slowly to wrap it around Will’s and tighten once. Good enough. “Is the pain in a specific part of your head or is it everywhere?”

“Everywhere,” came back the hushed reply. Will had suspected as much. He moved gentle fingers over Blake’s scalp, pressing firmly, massaging in circles, never staying in one place for too long. At first Blake stiffened, but then Will felt him sag into the sofa. Will concentrated on his task, applying slight pressure, knowing it would begin to ease the pain.

He lost all track of time. Blake lay quiescent, his head resting on the pillow, his breathing thankfully even. Will eased off on the head massage, now stroking Blake’s hair, the movement almost tender. Now and again, he rubbed along Blake’s arm and down his back, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone. Will had no idea how long he sat like that, but at last Blake stirred, rolling carefully onto his back and looking up at Will in surprise.

“Hi.”

Will smiled. “Hi yourself.” He kept his voice low. “How’s the head?”

Blake became still, as if assessing the situation. “Better.”

Will’s smile widened. “I’m glad. Now lie there quietly. Let the painkillers do their stuff. Then I’ll get you something to eat. That will help, too.” Blake blinked several times and opened his mouth, clearly about to protest, but Will laid a single finger across his lips. “No arguments.”

Blake closed his eyes for a second and then opened them, giving a slow, careful nod of his head. “Thank you.” His eyes closed once more.

Will sat in the darkened room, content to feel Blake’s warmth against him. Memories flooded through him. The times he’d held Richard like this, seen that same look of gratitude when the pain left him. Tears pricked his eyelids. He wished Richard could have seen this day. He would have been so proud of Will. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks for the man who had turned his life around. Maybe one day Will would get up enough courage to share that part of his life with Blake. Maybe.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Blake groaned. He’d never get them all finished. He stared in exasperation at the monitor, the words no longer registering. How in hell had he gotten so far behind?

“Take a break. Please.”

Blake’s head jerked up. Will was at their adjoining door, arms full of folders, his eyes fixed on Blake.

Blake snorted. “I don’t have time for a break. These submissions came