Les Misérables One Shots, Imagines And Preferances

Joly-Your Blasted Cold

"Joly get up!" Y/n cried at her boyfriend as he proceeded to roll over and complain of being sick.

"But I have a cold y/n you don't understand!" He told the girl who was perched at the end of his bed.

“Oh I’m sure!” she said, reaching over at him and poking him.

“Don’t touch me Y/n you could catch it too!” he yelled at the girl who looked concerned for him.

“I’m not going to catch it, Joly!” she told him as she watched him sneeze into his handkerchief and rub his red nose.

“You could!” he warned her as she sat down beside him.

“But I most probably won’t.”

“You most probably will,” he answered back.

“Well then! Too bad that I shall not kiss you, talk to you or even associate myself with you until you’re better then!”

“I’m not that sick!” he cried, sitting up straight.

“Thought as much,” she muttered under her breath before slowly tilting his head to her and pressing his lips to hers.

It was quiet and chaste but still enough to cause Joly to arouse himself out of his bed.

“I’ll see you at the Musain later,” she told him, smiling at his newly found cheerful attitude.

So the day progressed with a cheerful attitude and many sneezes.

They met in the Musain later as promised and Joly was indeed correct to be nicknamed Jolllly as that’s what he was.

The sun blinded Joly as he sat up straight the next day only to see his girlfriend nestled beside him, not asleep but holding many, many tissues.

“Well, good morning?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi,” her voice was drowsy and almost sick.

“What ever is the matter?” he inquired.

“I’ve got your blasted cold!” she retorted, latching herself onto him and wrapping her arms around him.