Dior was your girlfriend, you liked everything about her - her looks, strength, voice, talent, everything. What was there not to love about her?
Except, when Dior got sick, even if it was the tiniest sign of a small cold, she would be so dramatic, acting like she was dying and shit. Even curling up in a bed at your house cuddling one of the pillows or your pet.
Dior would need to force herself to get up if it was a small cold to go on set. Even though all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cuddle anything.
While you cleaned the house, Dior would be lazy and curl up in your bed while she was sick. And she would even whine for your attention or whatever she needed,
In short, she was a big, gigantic pain in the ass when she was sick.
Dior would act like she had the black plague or something and every now and then say something like, "Am I going to die?" even though she had the smallest cold ever.
Now, she had gotten a little sick, well not little since she had a fever of 102.9.
You, being the loving girlfriend of hers you were, decided to tell Rick she couldn't go to set because she was sick and had a little bit of a high fever and of course, he reacted nicely and just said he was gonna tell Dior's co-workers that she couldn't be there that day.
Anyways, after you hung up, Dior was being dramatic, whining and acting like she was gonna die.
Even your fucking pet was side eyeing her like she was the crazy one at the moment.
Anyways, you bought her some water and painkillers and put them on the nightstand beside your bed.
You sat down at the edge of your bed and put a digital thermometer in her mouth, checking the temperature and lo and behold, when you took the thermometer out of her mouth, a fucking 102.9 fever.
Dior was just there lying down, one of her hands on your thigh as she felt like she was going through the black plague, COVID-19 and chicken pox at the same time. Even though she was just being dramatic, when you put a hand on her head, she nuzzled into it. "Am I gonna die?" Dior asked softly.