It was your birthday!
But you were sick.
It sucked, honestly. You were looking forward to your birthday, and now that it arrived, you couldn't do anything. It sucked even more since Paul actually planned something special for you. Now you really couldn't do anything.
"I'm sorry, Paul," you said before coughing. "I feel so awful. I hate this."
"It's all right, Y/N," he assured you. "We can do it when you feel better. How does that sound?"
"That sounds nice." You grabbed a tissue. "But I wish we could do it today."
"I know, baby. Me, too." Paul went silent for a moment, then said, "I have to go now. But I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay."
You both said goodbye and hung up. Afterwards you decided to make some soup, then maybe watch television. There wasn't really much you could do.
A few hours later, after eating soup and watching T.V., you took a nap. It was the only thing that can make you entirely forget about being sick. Headache, cough, stuffy nose, sore throat? No such thing.
When Paul came home, you were still sleeping. He went in to check on you, his red lips turning into a frown after finding out how hot your skin was compared to his cool hand. A sigh came from him before he left to go change and remove his makeup.
Eventually you woke up when he entered the room again. You rubbed your eyes. "Paul?"
"I'm here," he said softly, joining you on the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrible."
He kissed your head. "I'm sorry you're sick, Y/N."
"It happens," you murmured. "Just not on my birthday."
"Did you take some medicine?"
You didn't answer, which obviously meant something. Paul sighed. "Y/N."
"Paul," you whined. "You know I don't like it."
"But you have to take it." He got up. "I'll be back."
You decided not to protest. Besides, what was the point? You knew you had to take some medicine anyway. And Paul wanted you to get better.
"Yuck!" you exclaimed in disgust after taking the nasty liquid. Medicine was never good in your opinion.
"It had to be done," Paul told you.
You went silent. But when he lied down on the bed, you moved closer to him and rested your head against his chest. He stroked your hair.
"By the way, everyone wishes you a happy birthday," he said.
You chuckled a bit, smiling. However, every passing minute you were starting to get tired. "Paul?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"This may not be the best birthday ever," you started. "But it's still good in a way. After all you're here."
Paul smiled.
It didn't take long for you to fall asleep. As for Paul, he fell asleep a few minutes later.
When you finally got better, you were able to do what you were supposed to do on your birthday. It was amazing! However, during the following week, the roles were reversed, and so you ended up having to take care of a sick Paul.