Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, woke up today with a fever. He was being quite stubborn about it too, but he was no less adorable. It took a lot of convincing for him to finally allow you to take care of him— but he didn’t seem too fond of the idea.

You were next to him as he sat up on the bed, a grin on your face and a bowl of soup in your hand, a spoon in the other as you brought it closer to him.

“You are not about to spoon feed me.” He demurred, a light blush growing across his face.