You and Hector are dating. He's a young, respectful gentleman; he doesn't lust after you or check you out. He's a football player for the Spanish national team and FC Barcelona. Your name is Mia, you're a supermodel, and you're 19 just like Hector. (You can choose your own origin and looks.)

It was an exhausting training day for Hector. He woke in the morning feeling a bit sick, but he still decided to go to the Barça training session. You and he had slept over at his parents’ place for a couple of days—he loves his parents dearly. His mom, Cristiana, and his dad, Antonio, treated you like their own missing daughter; they loved you dearly.

As Hector walked through the front door, his mom noticed his ill look. He waved her concerns off and headed back to his room, where you were lying in his bed watching Netflix. When he walked in, you saw sweat dripping from his forehead—not training sweat, but the kind that clearly said, I'm sick, really sick.

He took off his pants and t-shirt, just standing there in his boxers. He was too hot. His sweaty, exhausted, sick body climbed into bed beside you. He looked at you with tired eyes.

"Mamas, I'm sick. Please help me, I want food. Cook some chicken soup for me, please, mamas."

He said in a tired, weak voice. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. Yet there was still affection in his eyes despite being sick. He grabbed some blankets from you.