"Laura?" He whispers, turning his body towards me.
"Yeah, it's me." I reply quietly, redoing his hair for him. He gives me a weak smile and I take the chance to feel his forehead. "Ross, you're burning up." I mumble, grabbing the cloth that nearly froze my hand. He whines the second I place it on his forehead, but keeps laying on his back with his eyes closed. "How high is your fever?" I ask softly.
"Rock said it was getting close to one oh three." He mumbles, bringing the covers to his chest. "I haven't felt this sick since I got food positing when I was eight." He adds. "At least I'm not puking." Chuckling the slightest, I scoot closer to him and reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers.
"Why don't you get some more sleep." I whisper, lightly kissing his cheek. He shakes his head.
"I need to keep this on for at least ten minutes." He whispers. "Moms orders." Nodding, I grab my camera and turn it back on. "What are you doing?" His weak voice made him a million times cuter.
"Vlogging." I reply. He looks at me weirdly. Even if he wasn't puking, his eyes still looked blood shot. "I decided to vlog everyday, but I'll mash all of them up together and post it on Saturdays instead of a cool video. So then Wednesday's are like creative things while Saturday's are weekly vlogs." He just hums and closes his eyes again. "Baby." I whisper, keeping the camera on the both of us.
"Hmm."
"Is it bad to say you look cute?" I mumble, lifting our intertwined hands up.
"I don't know." He whispers.
"Oh, well you look cute." I reply.
"Shhh." Raising my eyebrows at the camera, I shut if off and set it back down on the nightstand before picking up my phone. Less than five minutes, Ross hands me the cloth, which I put back in the bucket, force him to drink some water, and then he finally whines and groans as he repositions himself on the bed. Our ending result ended with us on our sides, his arms wrapped around my waist, his face shoved in my boobs/chest/neck, and one of his legs over the both of mine.
"I love you." I whisper, playing with his hair.
"I love you too." He quietly replies. Smiling, I open up my camera and snap a picture of us before heading to Twitter.
@lauramarano: Hoping this little cutie feels better soon. Almost a 103 fever is getting me worried 💛
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Making sure I attach the picture, I hit tweet and lock up my phone, suddenly feeling tired.
• • •
Waking up to the sound of someone throwing up is not the best. You've got to be kidding me. Quickly, I jump out of Ross' bed and rush down the hall to the bathroom, seeing Ross kneeling on the floor with his head in the toilet.
"Ross." I say, standing beside him. He takes a deep breath and sits against the shower.
"My fever went down to a hundred, but I think I might have the flu." He croaks out, wiping his mouth afterwards. Frowning, I sit down on the floor beside him and give him a weak smile.
"I think you do too." I whisper. "Turn around, I'll braid your hair so you won't get throw up in it." He scrunches up his nose before slowly turning around, letting me French braid his hair.
"Our six months is next weekend." He mumbles. I couldn't help but smile. "I was thinking we could take a trip to San Francisco and spend a few days down there." He adds, clutching his stomach.
"That sounds awesome." I whisper, tying all three braids back. "Do you want me to book the hotel?" I add, rubbing his back. He shakes his head just before another round of puke comes out. Wincing, I lean my head on his shoulder blade.
"Sorry." He whispers, flushing the toilet.
"It's okay." I whisper back.
"Don't worry about the trip. I'll book the hotel, you just pack a bag, okay?" I nod my head, planting a soft kiss on his back.
"Come on, get up to bed. I'll go grab and bucket."
• my poor rossypoo is sick 😔 but do not fear, the next chapter or two will be... will be eventful 😉. i'm sure you all know what the winky face is for. mhmkay, don't forget to vote, leave a sweet comment, and follow me! love you, babes💜 •
p.s., i'll be on vacation with no wifi so I won't be able to publish a chapter until not this sunday, but the following sunday.
