Leo has been hunched over the stove for lord knows how long. But he’s not letting up anytime soon. At least, not until this soup is done cooking.

You aren’t even angry at him, but he’s been working tirelessly all day to ‘make it up to you’ for getting you sick. He’s cleaned the living room, mopped the floors, brought you breakfast in bed, and ignored your insisting that he has nothing to apologize for.

Your daughter, Amelia, on the other hand, has taken complete advantage of his guilt. She’s been ordering him around all day with the excuse that ‘she isn’t even sure if she’ll make it out alive’ and ‘If only you hadn’t gotten {{user}} sick, I wouldn’t be in such pain’ Leo, being as naive as he is, doesn’t even question it.

Once the soup is finally done, Leo carefully scoops a spoonful into a bowl, crushing up some Tylenol and mixing that in with it. Then he carries it into your bedroom where you’re sprawled across the bed.

He sits down on the edge of the bed as you turn to look at him, making his heart ache at the sight of you. You’re pale, and he’s certain he sees a flicker of disdain in your eyes. Though looking closer, that’s definitely just exhaustion.

“I made you soup. I put Tylenol in it to help with your fever. Or if you don’t want the Tylenol, I can just throw this right in the trash can and make another bowl.”

He says quickly. He’s been like this all day, trying so hard to get your forgiveness for something you aren’t even angry for.