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Imagine . . .
"(Y/N), are you okay? You don't look too good," Hunter says as he watches you from the kitchen. He's currently preparing his cup of coffee. He watches you intently awaiting for your response. You slowly nod but he doesn't seem convinced.
"I'm fine," you say and try to give him the best smile you can manage, but in truth you were in pain. You hold back a groan as you internally complain about your cramps, "Really. I am."
He shakes his head because he knows that what you had just said wasn't true, but soon his head is stuck in the pantry looking for something, "Where's--Found it!"
He closes the pantry door and in his arms he has chocolate, ChexMix, Oreos, and so many other sweets. He sets them all on the kitchen counter and then grabs a plate before placing a little bit of everything he has chosen from the pantry onto the plate. He walks over to you with the plate in one hand and your cup of coffee in the other, "I know that face. Something's wrong and if I'm right about giving you this, then I know what it is."
Of course he knew what was wrong. He knew how painful your cramps during your menstruation. He was right anyways. You desperately craved the sweetness from the chocolates and Oreos and saltiness from the ChexMix and not to mention that you were beginning to crave a sandwich from Subway with everything on it along with olive oil and vinegar. Either way, he knew exactly what was wrong and there was no way to hide it from him, "C'mon, (Y/N). I know that you want this."
He tells you in the most persuasive manner he can as he point to the plate that is now in your lap. He sighs and then turns around before leaving and walking down the hallway. Where was he going? Who knows, but he soon comes back with a blanket in his hands, "I'm gonna get you to at least tell how you feel. I know what's wrong, but I just wanna know how you feel," he says and he sits beside you. He takes the plate from your hands and places a blanket on your legs and stomach, "I noticed you ate some this. I told you so."
"Fine, you win. It's exactly what you think it is," you say with defeat. You didn't want to tell him because sometimes it was a little awkward for you, "Gee, Hunter. Can't a girl eat," you ask jokingly and he laughs, "No, but seriously. My stomach is killing me. I'm tired of taking Advil for this."
"Mama said to drink tea."
"We both know that I can't drink tea." It's not that you were allergic to tea, but there was something about it that tasted funny. It was comforting and reminded you of home with your parents, but the tea wasn't the same.
"I know, but I don't want to see you like this," he mumbles as he still a double-stuffed Oreo from your plate, "I know exactly what could do the trick."
He picks you up and carries you out the door and slides you into the car. Somehow, he managed to grab his keys, close the house door, grab your purse, and close your car door. This boy was talented, "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
After driving for a good two hours around Nashville, Hunter finally found a good parking spot to park his precious Range Rover. He opens the door for you like the gentlemen he is and you can't help but smile and feel giddy about how blessed you are to have him in your life. He takes your hand and entwines his fingers with yours. You love how your hand fits perfectly inside his and there's always some kind of spark every time you touch him, "You'll like this place. I came here after I met you. I was trying to figure out why I couldn't get you off my mind."
He opens the door to the ice cream shop and lets you walk in first before continuing with his story, "I even remember ordering the newest ice cream too. They were trying to figure out a name for it."
"What did you name it?" You ask curiously wanting to know the name of the ice cream. A waitress soon greets you and Hunter with a notepad in her hands. She has her chest puffed out and she won't stop batting her eyes. You roll your eyes as soon as you make sure neither of them are watching.
"What can I get you, Mr. Hayes? Should I get you the special?"
"Yes, absolutely," the waitress quickly scribbles something on the notepad and leaves. Hunter looks up at you with a smirk.
"What?"
"I still can't believe that I'm blessed with a beautiful girl who supports me and still sticks around," Hunter says smiling, "I named the ice cream after you."
You look at him shocked as you try to remember the first day you met him. Of course, you had known him because you were a fan, but you never mentioned your name to him when you spoke to him, "But you didn't even know my name."
"Well," he begins but the waitress soon comes with a beautifully decorated bowl of ice cream. It's fluffy, milky, and blissful,"It's called "Enchanted"."
You hear him but you're too buys enjoying the ice cream and not to mention it feels good inside your stomach. It's almost like your cramps are being numbed, "I love it. The name and the ice cream."
"I noticed as soon as you took the first bite," he says laughing, "Good to know you liked it."
You feel yourself blush a little, but then again, every little thing he did made you blush. He smiles and you can't but smile back at him. You were thankful to have him around to comfort you at times like these.
"C'mon, we still have things to do," Hunter says as you takes you by the hand and takes you to some other place. It's a place you've never been before but it looks beautiful. It's a meadow and you never thought you'd see one, especially here in Nashville. After spending hours and hours doing crazy things in the meadow and just goofing off, both you and Hunter decide that it's time to go home.
"How do you feel?"
"Much better," you says smiling. Hunter had managed to get the cramps to go away, "You're magic. They went away."
"I would say otherwise. I'd say that I'm more of an Iron Man."
"Iron Man is the one with smart comments and you're horrible when it comes to comebacks," you say playfully and he mocks hurt. He suddenly has you on his arms constantly tickling you.
"You take that back, missy."
"Never!"
"Now or I won't stop tickling you!"
"I will never surrender to Iron Man," you exclaim and he stops to place you on the couch with a smirk.
"You called me Iron Man."
"I did, but I don't like calling you that. You're so much better and cooler than him. You're my personal hero."
"Personal hero, eh?" He questions skeptically, "And does this personal hero get a cool name?"
"Of course! All heroes need cool names."
"So what is it?"
"Hunter Hayes."