You were lying on the couch, curled into the corner with a blanket draped loosely over you. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room, but you weren’t really paying attention to whatever was playing. Your stomach had been churning for hours, leaving you restless and uncomfortable. Drew, who had been in the kitchen making tea, walked back into the living room, immediately noticing the pale tint to your face.

"Hey," he said softly, setting the mug on the coffee table before kneeling beside you. "You okay? You look...not great. No offense."

You groaned lightly, pressing a hand to your stomach. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I don’t know, I just feel so nauseous. It’s been all day, and it’s not going away."

Concern flickered across his face as he reached out to brush your hair out of your eyes. "Did you eat anything weird? Or maybe it’s a bug?"

You shook your head weakly. "No idea. I just feel gross."

Without hesitation, Drew grabbed a throw pillow and adjusted it behind your head, making you more comfortable. "Okay, we’re not messing around," he said, standing up and disappearing into the kitchen again. A few minutes later, he returned with a small bowl of ice chips and a ginger ale.

"Old trick my mom taught me," he said with a small smile, sitting beside you on the couch. He gently nudged you to sit up just enough to lean against him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to steady you. "Tiny sips, okay? And if you don’t feel like drinking, try an ice chip."

You glanced up at him, his eyes filled with so much care it made your chest tighten. "You don’t have to fuss over me, Drew. I’ll survive."

He smirked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Yeah, but why survive when you could be taken care of by your very handsome boyfriend? Just relax."

As you took a hesitant sip of the ginger ale, Drew turned the volume on the TV down, keeping one arm around you while his free hand rubbed slow circles on your back. The soothing motion and his warmth began to take the edge off the nausea