Something They Can Never Take Away [Lams One-Shots]

Sick

I groaned, sitting up groggily at the sight of the sunlight streaming in through my translucent curtains. My head was pounding and when I stepped out of bed, a streak of dizziness shot through me and I almost collapsed.

I stumbled to get a bottle of water from the mini fridge in our dorm. Gasping at the relief of cold water, I took long, desperate gulps from the bottle. My head cleared momentarily.

"Alex?" My roommate John mumbled groggily as he rubbed his eyes and tossed the covers off himself. I jerked, startled, surprised to see him awake. Water dribbled down my chin as I clumsily tipped the bottle.

"Hey, sorry, John..." I recapped the water bottle and ran a damp hand through my hair to slick it out of my face. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"You did, but it's..." John's sentence tapered off. "Wow, you look like shit."

I blinked and my face flushed. "Oh, yeah? That's funny, I feel like shit too," I responded dryly, slightly insulted.

John's eyes widened at my irritable tone. "No no, Lex, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant!" He hopped off his bed and maneuvered carelessly around piles of laundry to stand in front of me.

"Are you... I mean, how are you feeling, specifically?" John's voice was thick with concern and he placed his hand on my forehead, feeling for temperature.

"I told you, like shit." I deadpanned, flustered from both his nickname for me as well as the physical contact with him.

"Lex, I'm serious."

"So am I!"

John narrowed his eyes at me, moving his hand from my forehead to my cheek. Worry was woven throughout his countenance and prominent in his clear green eyes. My eyes fluttered shut and I exhaled softly.

None of this is helping with the stupid crush I have on you, John, but if this is what it takes for you to touch me then I guess I'm not complaining, I thought weakly, then retracted the thought immediately when I felt myself almost slip into unconsciousness.

"Alex?" John's voice was expectant.

"Fine," I sighed in defeat. His touch always made me cave. "I... um..." I struggled to regain my rational thoughts. "My head hurts pretty bad and my eyes won't focus right. And I kinda feel like I'm going to pass out."

"Lexi, my gosh, this is serious!"

"Yeah, seriously painful."

"Alex!"

"Okay, okay, sorry."

"Lemme get something real quick. Go lie down, hon," John fussed, the worry still evident in his gaze. He padded off in his fuzzy socks to open a cabinet and dig around inside its disorganized contents.

I made my way back to the bed but halfway, I stopped dead in my tracks.  I could swear my heart sped up, but it could have just been another symptom. Did he just call me... a pet name?

"John?" I asked, slowly turning around. "What did you just call me?"

"Um... nothing?" The pitch of John's voice was higher than usual and he didn't turn around, but I could see the pink that had spread over the tips of his ears.

Aww, he's blushing, I smiled giddily to myself. "Mm-hmm, okay," I murmured in response, suspicions confirmed.

John brought over a bag, a muffin, and a glass of water. He set the muffin and water on the small desk next to my bed.

"You know, this is what happens when you get five hours of sleep a week," John teased, with a note of accusation in his voice. He unzipped the bag and took out a thermometer.