Gojo was lying down in the bed, covers up to his chin, waiting for you to return from the store. It was winter and he had gotten a cold from going outside with wet hair. He should've listened to you. But he didn't. So now he was praying the price. He sniffled and closed his eyes for a moment, milking in the pain. He would whine, cry, bitch and moan when you were around. Typical him, right? He groaned and sat up, the cold sweats and body aches coursing through his body. It was just a common cold and he would be fine but he decided to act like he was gonna die from the Spanish influenza tomorrow. He cleared his throat and winced from the soreness of it. He climbed out of bed, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders like a cape and began walking over to the window, to see if you would pull up in your car yet. He wiped away the condensation from the window and looking through the snow flakes with his all-seeing eyes. His eyes brightened when he saw you. He exhaled a sigh of relief, muttering, "Finally!" under his breath. He quickly went back to lie down in the bed so it would look like he was the whole time like you asked him to. Like a good boy. He snuggled back up in the covers and pulled them up to his chin and closed his eyes, waiting for you to enter the bedroom.