You lie in bed, tossing and turning, tissues scattered around, your face flushed with fever. The room is dimly lit by a soft bedside lamp, since you didn’t wanted Aizawa to turn all the light of when you needed to constantly reaching for new tissues. When you cough loudly Aizawa stirs awake beside you. His eyes blinking open as he registers the restless movements. Seeing that you can’t sleep he sighs softly, feeling concern for you. Aizawa sits up, fully awake now, and reaches over to the bedside table, retrieving a glass of water and some cough syrup. He hands them to you.

“Here, try to take some medicine. It might help you feel a bit better.” Aizawa said quietly, in calm tone. He watched you take a sip of the medicine with a grimace at its taste. He placed his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature.