BILLET-DOUX ✦ CLASSIC ROCK

22 - rick wright

For the sweet Beatlesfan3299 ! This is kind of hurt/comfort but there's lots of fluff in there for you!
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The sky was overcast with heavy-hanging rain clouds, foreshadowing a summer storm, as was typical in England. You had been watching them pensively all day through the gaping windows of your little home that you shared with Rick, waiting for the moment when they would burst, unleashing sheets of rain upon the awaiting land.

It was the only thing you could do besides worry, and the worrying wasn't getting you much farther than the opposing walls of your home like a moth beating at a light.

Rick had caught a cold on his way home from tour and had greeted you at the door with a handkerchief at his nose and a broken voice pitched low. He had made an attempt to look nice for you anyways, putting on a button-down and combing his hair into something as neat as his swooping, shoulder-length hair could achieve.

You had dragged him inside immediately, allowing Rick to take a shower and put on more comfortable clothes. He didn't fight you on the matter, heading off willingly towards the bathroom. Even in the sick haze of the flu, Rick had the presence of mind to wrap you in a brief hug, careful not to put his mouth on you. He muttered something sweet in your ear that you couldn't make out, but it sounded a lot like you're an angel.

The shower had been running for a solid ten minutes before you heard Rick emerge and pad into the bedroom for clothes to wear. You remained at the window, giving him his privacy. You were too immersed in counting each raindrop that pattered onto the stone walkways of your back garden. The clouds were just beginning to open up, wetting the grass and the surrounding trees in a thin drizzle.

"Y/N?" Rick called softly, tentatively. "Are you there?"

Rick had made it as far as the hall, clad in baggy sweats and a pajama shirt that was partially unbuttoned. His hair was still wet from the shower and fell down his back in dark waves that soaked patches into his shoulders and chest. Rick gazed at you with glazed eyes, exhaustion sitting in the lines of his face. It was clear without him saying that Rick wanted companionship.

You were happy to give it to him.

"Oh, Richard, don't tire yourself. Go lay back down, I'll be right there," you replied, dipping into the kitchen to get Rick some tea to soothe his throat.

It took no longer than a few minutes for the water to boil, and you added extra spoonfuls of honey. Something sweet hidden away as a treat worked wonders on Rick's dismal moods.

Whether he was ill or feeling particularly depressed fron one of Roger's tirades, a little bit of honey cheered him up immensely. Rick would be grinning something tender and private within the hour and, if you played your cards right and put on one of his favorite records, he'd dance with you in the sitting room.

For now, your goal was to see Rick get better and make sure he was content and smiling.

You entered the bedroom with Rick's tea in hand, happy to see that he had covered himself up in bed with just his head poking out. He was already half-asleep and seemed to be using his last bit of energy to stay awake for you.

"Hello there, handsome," you greeted, seating yourself next to him in bed on top of the mound of blankets.

"Don't flatter me," Rick said, sniffling. He saw the tea you'd brought and sat up to take it gratefully. "Thank you, love."