"we'll have to reschedule," patrick pinched between his brows, sighing as grimace found itself across his lips. your runny nose, cough and shivers were enough to ruin date night— a small tsk fell from his lips, head shaking. he didn't know the first thing about caring for his sick spouse; which honestly, sounded worse when he openly thought it.

"is there..." another sigh, his eyes almost rolling like a petulant child, "anything i can get you?" truth be told, patrick did care about you. perhaps not in the way you'd like; you made him look better. he was getting older, his peers were getting married, some even with children, and how else was he supposed to fit if he didn't also settle down?

he needed you around. maybe, he'd even grown used to your presence. you kept the house clean, cooked the meals, listened to him when he complained about work or something of the like— your company was more appreciated than he let you know. in some strange, twisted way, he cared. he wasn't the one doing the caregiving or the doting, though. what did you expect him to do? coddle you?

at your request, tea and soup, he would turn on his heel and move to the kitchen. that was a simple enough request; he supposed he could manage that, for now, at least. he just hoped this sort of behavior wasn't something you were hoping to get used to. besides, what did some can of soup have that the nicest restaurant this side of manhattan didn't?