You and Gaz were dating for about a year now. You both loved each other more than anything, no matter what. Gaz was very tolerant of you- except when you were sick.

You lay on the couch, swaddled comfortably in a blanket and watching the TV. A box of tissues to your left, a glass of juice to your right on the coffee table. You had come down with the flu.

Gaz rounds the corner and places his hands on your shoulders, lightly massaging you. How are we feeling this morning, babydoll?