For lipstick love, hope you'll like it. It has been raining for about two days here and it kinda inspired me:)
Also, it would mean a lot to me if you checked out OC fan fiction I am working on, because...ya know, feedback always wanted, especially to someone who doesn't speak english as a first language. So sorry for bugging you with this:)
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You really, really, really hate being sick. All that sneezing, coughing, sniffling, wiping your nose and many other things. You are at home, doing nothing except for watching videos on YouTube and binge watching movies on your computer.
Door to your room open widely, revealing your concerned mother with a tray in her hands.
"How are you feeling, sweetie?"
"I feel like shit, mom."
"Watch your language, baby."
"But it's true," you whine and pull a tissue out of a huge Kleenex box, which is right next to your right hip, cleaning your nose. Your mom sighs and places her soft hand on your heated forehead: "You poor baby. Have you called Colin yet?"
You look at her and it hits you. Today you were supposed to go out with Colin, your boyfriend of few months. But in your condition...
"Mom, what can I do? I didn't call him..."
"Thought so, because he called here."
"He did what?"
"He called here. I told him you were sick and your date is probably postponed until you get better."
"Mom!"
"He understood. But next time you should tell him yourself."
You are really not in the mood for scolding and you bury your head in a comforter: "Mom! He'll probably leave me now."
"Actually, he is coming over."
WHAT!?
Thirty minutes pass and your hope he won't show up grows bigger. Not that you don't want to see him, but you are not in a condition to be seen. Your hope dies when someone rind a doorbell and you hear your mother's welcoming voice: "Colin! How nice of you to come here. She is in her room. Upstairs, first door when you get there."
"Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. It's no problem, I wanna see how is she doing."
When you hear his footsteps coming upstairs, you look around your room, trying to see if you have any hiding spots. But a soft knock on your door stops you and your face lights up as you hear Colin's soft voice: "Y/N, may I come in?"
"Y-Yeah."
First thing you do when he comes in is hide your face. You hear his quiet footsteps and the bed squeaks when he sits down next to you. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists and he pulls your palms away from your face. His eyes are soft as he kisses your forehead, leaving his lips to linger on your hot forehead.
"I look horrible, Colin," you whine. He moves away from you, his eyes locking with yours: "Y/N, I don't care how do you look like right now. I love you because of who you are not because of what you look like. If you were a top model with a shitty personality, I would never ask you out. It's who you are. Your sense of humor, your ability to listen and to find the right words. It's how you understand hockey is my job and not a hobby."
"You are just being nice," I stifle and sneeze. He chuckles and gives you a tissue: "You sound like a sneezing cat."
