santana and brittany

sick

"Thank you," Brittany says when I hand her the new bowl of ice cream

Instead of sitting back under her feet, I sit in the club chair. As expected, Brittany turns on One Tree Hill and eats her ice cream. If it wasn't for Brooke Davis being so hot we would be watching The Office. We had to turn the volume up high because between Brittany's coughing and sneezing it was hard to hear what they were saying.

An alarm goes off on my phone, telling me it's time for Brittany to take her allergy medicine. I take Brittany's bowl into the kitchen and then I come back out with a spoon and the bottle of liquid medicine.

"Okay," I say and I sit on the edge, "Your mom said to take two spoonfuls of this every hour." I open the bottle and fill the spoon up with the liquid. Brittany takes both of them with no problem and I smile. I leave the spoon and bottle on the coffee table before sitting back down in the chair.

Brittany gets off of the couch and brings herself and the blanket over to me. She sits horizontally sits on my lap and I cradle her like a baby, making sure that the blanket covers her body completely. If it was another sick person who tried to lay on me like this then I would've pushed them off but since it's Brittany I don't mind.

I feel Brittany shake beneath me and I press more of her against my body.

"It's so cold in here." Brittany says and I lay my forehead on hers that is hot as hell. She is burning up, "I don't feel so good."

I smile, "I know that Brittany."

"No," she says and I furrow my eyebrows, "Like, I don't feel good. I feel like I'm about to-" Brittany turns her head and throws up onto the floor. She covers her mouth and looks at me with wide eyes.

I clear my throat and try not to throw up myself, "Okay, um, go take a shower while I clean all of this up." I hold her hips as she gets up just so she won't slip in her own vomit.

I turn the TV off and grab all the cleaning supplies. It takes me a long half hour to clean it up and another two minutes to get the smell out.

I am a committed girlfriend. I bet you Chantel wouldn't do this for her.

I'm sitting at the kitchen island, studying for calculus, when my phone buzzes. I pick it up and read a text from Brittany that's telling me to come upstairs to rub vicks on her chest. I was about to text back 'no' but then I remember she's sick and I can't be mean.

Brittany sneezes as I walk into her room and she hands me the tub of vicks, "How are you feeling?" I ask her as I rub a thick layer of it on her chest and neck

"Like shit, Santana. Like shit."

I look into her puffy eyes and grin, "Perfect."

I close the tub and place it down on her dresser. Brittany puts on a different hoodie and follows me back downstairs into the kitchen. She pours herself a cup of orange juice and takes it into the living room.

The alarm for Brittany's medicine goes off and I close my textbook. When I walk into the living room she's not there but I can hear the faint sound of her coughing coming from upstairs. I take the medicine bottle and spoon upstairs to her room.

Brittany's sleeping under the covers. I sit on the edge of her bed and get the spoon ready.

"Hey," I whisper and she moves a little in her sleep. When she opens her eyes she clears her throat, "Time for some more medicine." She sits up and takes the two spoonfuls, "What do you want to eat?"