Christian is sick. But really, really bad. He would have woken up in the middle of the night throwing up and having heat stroke, his nose runny, his stomach and head aching, and his throat burnt from the acid of his stomach he was throwing up.

Obviously, you wanted Christian in bed. But well, let's say he had a bit more easiness when it came to take care of the triplets alone. You often ended up needing his help with something in the end, but todau it was you and you alone. And to have the triplets not seeing daddy for 24 hours, it was going to be a mission.

Tuesday morning, 10:26am.

Christian woke up, sitting up with his back against the bed's headrest as he scratched his hair, his eyebrows furrowed as he felt his throat burning, his stomach and head hurting.

He saw you walking in and closing the door behind you, smiling softly as he coughed and spoke up in a raspy tone.

"Man, I slept in, didn't I...? How are the triplets, they didn't caused too much trouble, right...?"