hi hi !! if you're still accepting asks from that winter prompt, could i ask for 💙 + 🤍 + 💭?
slowly but surely, I'm working my way through these - thanks for sending this in!!! this is a soft ball of fluff and I hope you like it!
💙 - cold/flu symptoms | 🤍 - forehead kisses | 💭 - soft thoughts/pet names
It’s dark outside, and the patter of freezing rain on the leaves mirrors the crackle of dry wood in the fireplace. Two opposites, yet so similar in the comforting sounds they fill the room with. A’s overwhelmed by the beauty of it as they reenter the living room, where poor B has been camped out on the couch for the past few days.
B coughs, then rubs their throat with a wince. They said it was only a bad cold, but it had stolen their voice, and a 102-degree fever had leeched the energy from their body and made them achy, sniffly, and weak.
“Feeling any better, sweetheart?”
“Not really,” they croak, forcing out the words.
They’re curled up under a knit throw that’s pulled up to their chin and hugged tightly around them, head resting on a fluffy pillow A had brought them earlier in the day. Their eyes are half-open, their breathing slightly muffled from congestion. They cough again and, despite the warm fire, tighten the blanket around their body. They’d been feverish all day, and their chills always got worse at night.
A leans over and gently kisses their forehead, then goes to flick on the humidifier, which will flood the room with steam to help open their lungs. A flicker of lightning flashes and the low echo of thunder rumbles outside, and B flinches at the sound - the approaching storm has them on edge.
“You sure this is only a cold?” A’s back at B’s side, kneeling next to the couch and brushing the hair back from their forehead, confirming the fever they already knew B was spiking.
B shrugs. “Don’t know. Thought it was.” They shift restlessly on the couch, lightly massaging one of their aching shoulders before another shudder sends them back under the blanket. “I’ve got chills all over. My joints are burning, and my eyes hurt, and it feels like someone took sandpaper to my throat.”
“Those...aren’t cold symptoms, B.”
“Fine...so I understated things.” They draw in a rattling breath, rubbing their eye with the corner of the blanket. “I’m suffering either way.”
Another sharp cough wracks them, the rattle coming from deep within their chest, followed by a moan. A’s heart aches - B sounds miserable, and they look just as bad all bundled under the blanket.
A moves to add more logs to the fire. One of these days, B would just admit they were sick when their symptoms started. But for now, they’d just have to patiently wait them out as they burned and ached and coughed and shivered until they couldn’t hide it any longer.
Another rumble of thunder, this one closer, and B jolts, eyes wide as they stare out the darkened window. Their eyes flit to A, then back to the window, then back to A again.
“A, can you come here?” B’s voice is soft and wavering.
“What’s up, love?” As A crosses the room, they can see that B’s eyes are as big as saucers.
“Can you stay next to me?” This close, A can see the dark shadows under B’s eyes, the wild edge that underscores their anxiety which is heightened by their fever. They’re never this clingy otherwise.
“Of course, just let me-“
Another clap of thunder, and B practically launches themselves off the couch and throws their arms around A’s waist, nearly knocking them off balance.
“Shhhh. Hey, you’re alright.” A cups a hand around their overheated head as B leans against A’s stomach, weak arms wrapped around their middle. “There’s nothing out there. We’re safe in here.” In one deft movement, A slides down to sit next to B on the couch. B buries their face in A’s sweater, their knuckles white as they twist their fingers into the soft material. They’re terrified, poor thing.
A adjusts the blanket around their shoulders and hugs them tightly, feeling the small shivers of fever and fear ripple through B’s shoulders as they rub their back in soothing circles. Another crash, this one even closer, and a small sob escapes from B.
“A, don’t go. Please stay. Please.” They’re on the verge of delirious tears, and A can’t help but wonder if someone had once left them to face another storm alone, long ago.
Even in their arms, B can’t stop shaking, so A begins to hum a sweet, simple melody - something from their childhood, words half-forgotten, but the purpose still clear: to ease an anxious mind and calm a trembling soul.
the fire pops and crackles. The thunder crashes and the storm rages, like armies above are tearing the skies apart. A threads B’s hair between their fingers, tracing swirling patterns on their scalp as they continue to hum. they repeat the melody over and over, feeling B begin to relax and release the death grip they have on their sweater.
The thunder rumbles once more, farther away this time, and B just snuggles closer, coughing quietly.
“You doing okay?” B seems to have settled down, but their eyes are still wide and glimmering in the firelight. A feels B’s head nod into their chest.
“I will be.”
In the safe haven of the fire’s glow, B slowly drifts off - and A continues to hold them, even after their breath deepens into an even sleep.
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