Lying in your bed was usually a lovely thing to do. Not so much when you're also joined by tissues, sneezing and a general feeling of shit. Your head aches, your eyes are sore and Vincent isn't there. He's working and you're hating every moment of the day. You hear Vincent's car pull up into the driveway and his keys in the lock, opening the door. His voice calls out, sweet and happy "Lovely?" Before you can answer, another fit of sneezing takes over and Vincent rushes into the room.