"hey, hey," james mumbled with a grimace, gently curling his fingers around your shoulders to push you back into bed.

you were sick— the flu, unfortunately. hot and cold flashes, a consistent fever, nausea, etc; and for some reason, it had really rattled james up. he insisted you both take time off work, so he could take care of you.

while it was endearing, you didn't need him fussing over you like some brooding mother-hen. you needed space. and to be able to use the restroom in peace.

each time you insisted you were fine, james only shook his head. sure, the fact he'd fetch anything you'd ask for, bring you cups of tea and bowls of soup, press cool rags to your feverish skin and kiss your forehead when you were especially bad... but you could handle yourself!

"you, relax." james murmured, his tone gentle as he brushed some hair away from your face. his touch was gentle, as if he could break you at any second. he couldn't afford to start thinking like that, though. "whatever you need, i'm just a shout away. so what is it?"