Felix hated being sick. He refused to believe he was getting sick—the headache, dry cough… he tried to chalk me up to anything else. Now, too awake in the quiet night, he wanders into your room and collapsed down beside you in your bed with a huff.

Stubborn, stubborn boy. “I’m not sick,” He literally would do anything but admit he was wrong, admit he was actually sick, let you take care of him. “I just can’t sleep.” He murmurs, pulling you closer to him. “Just let me hold you, hun.”