Short imagines about our favorite guitarist!
*requests open for my followers and longterm readers only*
[32 parts long - follow me to read all of them]
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Carry on
Michael: "Uhhhhh," you woke up feeling absolutely terrible. Your head was pounding and your throat was raw.
"Y/N! TIME FOR SCHOOL!" Your dad burst into your room and flicked your lights on.
You groaned again, then winced as your throats throbbed.
"Y/N? That didn't sound like your usual 'I don't want to get up' groan, it sounded like a, 'something's wrong' groan," he took a step inside and looked at you curiously.
"I feel terrible," you rasped out.
He winced at how dry and hoarse you sounded, "you sound like a chainsmoker."
You rolled your eyes and pulled your covers further up your body as a shiver ran up your spine.
He walked over to you and then pressed his palm to your forehead. Frowning, he raised his other hand and felt his own forehead.
"I think you're running a fever," he sighed.
"I feel like I'm running a fever," you agreed.
Michael walked back to your doorway and turned your lights back off, "get some more sleep, I'm going to call your Mum, Luke, and then the school so I can stay home with you today."
"You don't have to-" you tried to protest him taking off a studio day to take care of you when you were perfectly capable but he shook his head.
"No no, it's my job as the only parent home to make sure that you take it easy today and try to recover," he ducked out of the room.
"Okay Dad," you were internally pleased that he was taking the day to take care of you. While you didn't want to be a burden, you also really didn't like taking care of your sick self and Michael always babied you when you were ill. Much more so than your mother. Luckily she left the house earlier in the morning.
"Get some rest squirt, I'll go make the calls and then get breakfast around," he softly closed the door and you heard him walking off to go talk to Luke, your Mum, and the school.
You tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could given your uncomfortable throat, head, and temperature. It didn't work well, but you were eventually able to pull your blankets all up to your chin and prop your head up enough to fall asleep.
"Y/NNNNNN," your Dad was a lot gentler the second time he walked in to wake you up. Instead of flooding your room in light and yelling he quietly walked in and sat next to you on your bed.
He rubbed your back gently until your tired eyes opened.
"I made waffles for breakfast and Mum said that she'd pick up ice cream for your throat on her way home from work later," he said.
You stretched out a little, feeling just about the same s you did before your nap, only very hot instead of could.
So you kicked your blankets off and huffed, "I'm not really hungry Dad."
You were never hungry when you were sick. Being under the weather and feeling gross made eating rather unpleasant for you, and you swore things tasted different.
"Well at least take some fever meds and drink some fluids to keep hydrated," he sighed, looking rather unhappy with your waffle rejection.
"I don't want to get upppp," you whined, throwing a sweaty arm over your face.
"Well then hOLD ON TIGHT!" Michael suddenly scooped you up bridal style.
You shrieked but did as he asked as there was no other real option, "DAAAAAD!" You screamed in terror as he ran down the stairs and to the living room.
In there he had already set up two trays of food. One was clearly for him as he had probably triple the number of waffles.
He laid you down on the couch and handed you one of the trays, "breakfast is served."
"Thank you," you smiled, looking down at the food. Two fluffy Belgian Waffles smothered in syrup with a healthy pile of fruit next to it. He had also left some fever pills on the tray and a tall glass of orange juice.
Even though you normally wouldn't eat when feeling so gross, the food smelled so good that after you downed the pills you couldn't help but take a bite from the waffle.
"That's my girl!" Michael winked at you.
One thing was for sure, sick days were always made best bearable with your Dad and a big plate of his famous waffles.
Thanks for reading, commenting, and voting!
Wooo it's late here gn y'all
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