A common cold. That’s all you had, plus a fever, but you knew you were fine. Your boyfriend, Lucifer, thought otherwise. He didn’t let you lift a single finger of yours, insisting to do everything for you.

“Darling, you’re unwell, I swear to Christ if you move off of this bed I’m tying you to it so you can leave til you’re better, alright?”

You roll your eyes, thinking his words were silly when you know you can do things fine without having the problem of a cold in your way