Laying on the armchair together, your head was resting against Sherlock's chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His other hand is holding his book he was currently reading.

You whined, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. As if you wanted to throw up. Sherlock closed his book and put it aside as he shushed you, his thumb caressing the blade of your shoulder comfortingly.

"What seems to be wrong, my dear?" He asked concernly.