I wake up groggily to the blankets being pulled off my body, and Marco tossing and turning next to me.
"Marco. Babe. You woke me up," I whisper loudly. He doesn't respond. Just whimpers in his sleep.
I turned to see him wrapped up in all of our blankets, the sheets twisted around his limbs.
"Marco?" I ask, realizing that something is wrong.
He isn't awake, but he keeps whimpering in his sleep. I sit up and reach my hand to his forehead; it is extremely hot. His eyes flutter opens at my cool touch.
"Y/N," he groans coughing a little.
"Do you feel okay? You're burning up." I say to him.
"No. I feel so sick," he says, curling up into a fetal position.
"Where does it hurt babe?" I asked worryingly.
"It's my tummy. And my head, and everything." He moans.
I try not to laugh at his use of the word 'tummy'.
"Okay wait here," I say, crawling out of bed and flickering on the lamp that sits on the bedside table. I walk down the hall to the hall closet and shuffle through the medicine before finding some pain medicine. I place two in my hand, hoping it will help break his fever. I then walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of nice cold ice water. When I walk back into our bedroom, he is laying in the same position with pain written across his face.
"Okay, can you stand up for me?" I ask.
He nods and slowly staggers out of bed. I quickly shake out the sheets, re-making our bed so he's more comfortable. I then turn to our walk-in closet and grab him fresh t-shirt and sweatpants.
"You need to change out of those sweaty clothes." I tell him.
He sighs and holds his arms out, indication that I should do it for him. I roll my eyes at him but smile. I secretly love it when he's needy like this, but I feel bad for him because he's sick.
I peel off his sweatshirt, exposing his bare, fit abdomen.
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I gently help put on the new shirt, then help him take off his shorts and put the new ones on.
"Now, take these," I tell him, handing him the medicine and water. He swallows them and laws back down.
I climb next to him, turning the lamp back off. I crawl over to him, moving his short hair out the way of his eyes. I leave little kisses all over his forehead.
"Y/N, I don't want you to get sick," he says already half asleep.
"I know," I run my fingers through his blonde hair as he falls back asleep.
"Thank you, Y/N." He mumbles, almost completely asleep. "I love you."
"I love you too, Marco. I'll always take care of you."
