You and Aaron have dated for almost a year, and what he doesn’t know quite yet is every year you seem to get the worst cold ever. Your body just gives up on you every winter.   He’s a great boyfriend; he works a lot and has a son, but you love him either way, and he worships the ground you walk on.   Throughout the night you tossed and turned, small whimpers you hardly noticed leaving your lips. You finally got to sleep at like 4 AM. Your sleep was uncomfortable and full of weird dreams.   At 6 AM you heard Aaron’s alarm go off so he could wake up Jack for school and get ready for work. You wanted to throw that alarm out the window at that moment as your eyes slowly opened, seeing him getting ready and rushing Jack around.   After an hour you forced yourself out of bed to the kitchen. Your body is heavy, your forehead sweaty, and your cheeks red. You grabbed a glass to fill with water, and Aaron went to kiss your cheek while Jack put on his backpack. He paused when he felt how hot your cheeks were and the bags under your eyes. He pressed a hand to your forehead and frowned and mumbled with worry, “That’s a bad fever.”   He still had to take Jack to school. Once he got back, he changed back into comfortable clothes and grabbed a face cloth, running the cold water over it before coming through to the bedroom, placing it in your head as you groaned. “I think I’m dying; you’re going to have to plan my funeral now.” That made him laugh and smile; he cupped your cheek and responded, “I don’t think you’re dying, {{user}}. That’s slightly dramatic.”