ACOTAR - Imagines

Azriel - Illyrian-mother-hen

Well guess who's back! <3
This was requested by Thesystem100 I hope you like it!
POV you get sick from taking care of Azriel and he feels super guilty about it and does whatever he can to make you feel better...

'Would you quit your fussing!' you try to yell at your mate, but nothing more than a pathetic croak comes out due to your sore throat.

From the bottom end of the bed, Azriel looks up from where he was currently straightening out the many blankets he had propped on top of you. 'I'm not fussing.' He says in monotone. His face is completely serous even as he brings your warm water bottle over and tucks it in with you under the blankets.

'You are,' you counter. 'and what happened to the oh-so-serious spymaster who didn't care about anything?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

You roll your eyes. 'I'm sick Azriel, not dying; I don't need you to fuss over me like a mother hen every five minutes!'

He narrows his eyes. 'Soup or pasta?'

You attempt an overly dramatic sigh, but it only causes a coughing fit. You double over, clutching your chest, trying to get mucus out and air in at the same time.

Azriel is at your side within a second, patting your back and gripping your arm to keep you upright.

When your coughs had finally subsided and your breathing evened out Azriel says, 'Madja said you need to take the tonic three times a day. How many times did you take today?'

This time you decide not to fight him with that tone, and the fact that you were now feeling even weaker. 'I took some in the morning.'

Azriel glances at the clock...and sighs frustratedly. He gets up and walks over to your dressing table to retrieve the healing tonic that had been sitting there staring at you for the past three days. 'When will you learn?'

You shrug, holding onto your sense of playfulness to keep the mood light. Azriel motions for you to open your mouth and gives you two spoons of the tonic. 'I'll give it to you from now on,' he says, screwing the lip back onto the onyx vial. 'that's the only way I can make sure you're actually going to get better.'

You nod faintly.

With another long, evaluating look at you, Azriel rises and says, 'I'm going to get dinner from Rita's. I'll be back in twenty-minutes.'

You just wave him off and lie back down on the covers, shutting your eyes.

You must have fallen asleep because twenty minutes later Azriel was waking you with light kisses on your cheek, mouth and forehead. 'Wake up sleepy head,' he whispers against your skin.

You groan slightly and open your eyes to be met with his mesmerizing hazel ones.

'I got you tomato soup,' your mate says, smiling at your sleepy state. 'It will make you feel better.'

'You seem to be in a better mood,' you remark and kiss him on his soft lips. Azriel had established three days ago that he didn't mind getting sick from you, that there was nothing that could keep him from kissing you.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich. 'Eat your food smartass.' He helps you into a sitting position and places a warm bowl of soup on your waiting lap. It smelled delicious; so much so that you decided perhaps a fussing Azriel wasn't such a bad thing after all.

'How are you feeling?' he inquires, digging into his own bowl of soup.

Your sneeze is enough of an answer.

After blessing you like the polite gentleman he was, Azriel said, 'I'm taking the rest of the week off. I'm not leaving until I know for sure you're recovered.'

You make a pouty face, feeling your chest expand at the loving concern your mate was showing you. 'You really don't have to do that my love, I'm sure I'll be better in no time.'

He only leans over and brushes a strand of your messy hair out of your face. He smiles that charming smile. 'Of course I do.'

You kiss his fingers before gobbling down the rest of your meal.

Azriel suggested a bath before bed, to help your muscles relax and the steam from the water to open up your chest. You replied by saying that you would only do it if he would join you.

A few minutes later, the bathtub in your shared bathroom was bubbling and inviting. Azriel tied up your hair in a messy bun atop your head - a skill only you know he possessed - and made you get in first. The moment your skin touched the warm water you let out a small relieved sigh, the bubbles making a slight sizzling sound as they popped. Through your blocked nose you can faintly smell lavender - your favourite bath soap. Azriel must have put it in.

You rotate slightly to peer at your mate, stripping off his shirt, revealing his toned body glistening with tattoo swirls. After ridding himself of all his clothes - the sight leaving you frustrated that you were sick and couldn't perform a certain set of activities - Azriel slips into the bath behind you. His hands find your shoulders and gently guide your body to lean against his. His warm, strong body was glorious against yours, just like it had always been. You both let out relieved sighs and the candles flicker down thanks to Azriel's powers, and the water soothes the two of you.

'This was a great idea.' You say softly.

Azriel hums behind you, scooping water in his hands and gently letting it run over your chest, your stomach and arms. Leaning your head against his shoulder you close your eyes and rest a hand on his muscled thigh in the water.

Your mate kisses your head before resting his against it, letting some of his cobalt magic flow into the water to relieve your muscle aches.

'I love you, you Illyrian-mother-hen.' You say.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and onto your back, reminding you why being with him was the best and only thing you desired in the world. 'I love you too smartass.'