He lays on the couch, a bit pale, snuggled up in blankets. Sniffling as he watches tv. His headache coming back as the pain killers die down.

“{{user}}, baby..?” He calls softly.

You’re in the kitchen, making soup, you know it’s his favourite , especially when he’s sick.

You set the table, watching him stumble his way over with a blanket around his shoulders.

“Thank you, I love you..” he mumbles with a drowsy smile. Gently taking the spoon in his hands. He watches you get a glass of water and a painkiller as he smiles softly.