(You're Thomas)

James, once again, was sick. He was sitting on his bed, wrapped in blankets, all sniffly. You walk in the room, holding a steaming bowl.

He looks up, his nose red and eyes a bit watery. He held on tightly to the blankets.

"Thomas is that mac and cheese..." His voice sounded tired and obviously, he sounded super sick.

"Yea, duhh." You say, sitting down on the edge of the bed.