"(y/n)," Race whispers, his cool hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you.
You groan and open your eyes. You hadn't heard the bell. "Morning already?" you try to joke, but you end up coughing. The coughing fit lasts a few moments, and when it's over, you start to get out of bed.
Race gently pushes you back down. "You ain't sellin' today, (y/n)."
"But-" you begin to protest but cough violently again. In the back of your mind, you start to plot how to sneak out after the boys leave so you can still sell. You press a hand to your forehead, trying to stop the pain for a moment so you can think clearly.
"I'll stay with ya," Race softly says, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"You need to sell," you protest.
He shakes his head, lying down beside you and putting an arm protectively over you. "I'm good here."
"Race," you plead. "You'll catch whatever I've got."
"You caught this from me, remember? I was as sick as you are this time last week." He smirks. "You ain't gettin' rid of me."
"Alright," you finally agree, reaching out from under the covers to take his hand.
"Race!" Buttons shouts from across the room. "Quit snugglin' with your girl! It's time to get a move on!"
"You comin'?" Mush asks.
"Naw, I'm gonna stay here and take care of (y/n)," Race replies, not moving a muscle.
"Gonna cuddle with your girl all day 'stead of workin'?" Buttons teases, trying to get a rise out of Race.
"Actually, I think I will," Race says. "Now get outta here, ya bummas!"
Buttons rolls his eyes, but he and Mush leave without saying anything more. The two of you are left in peace. With the special treatment you're getting from Race, you almost don't mind being sick.