butterflies ઇଓ matt sturniolo imagines

𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

you stirred uncomfortably from your sleep, feeling an odd sensation against your skin. barely opening your eyes, you reached your palms up to your pillow to feel it was damp and warm, and your face was the same- your forehead was slick with sweat, and your entire body was twitching with shivers.
the grogginess clogging your systems made it ten times harder to get up, but feeling so sticky and gross, you had to clean up just a bit; hobbling into the bathroom, you wiped your face with some cold water and tugged your hair into a haphazard ponytail, which was knotted and wild from sleep. it only took one look in the mirror to see the paleness beneath your skin, and the feverish pink in your cheeks. your lips even looked pale, and horribly chapped, too. you groaned in exhaustion as you made your way back into the bedroom that belonged to your boyfriend, matt. you wondered how late you must have been sleeping, since his side of the bed seems to have been deserted awhile ago- and he's always the late sleeper. when you found the time on your phone read 2:30 p.m., you nearly gasped aloud. i never sleep this late! you thought.
gathering a spare shirt from your bag, you swapped it with your sweaty pajamas and sighed at the feeling of something clean to wear; then, swiping your phone and stealing a spare zip-up from matt's gaming chair, you made your way into the house.

matt was lounging in the living room in his pajamas when you shuffled out of the bedroom. his coffee-colored hair was stuffed underneath his sweatshirt hood, and his sleepy eyes twinkled as you walked over. you noticed he was focused on some noisy cartoon- as you came closer, you recognized the snarky yellow dog and his dumb counterpart.

"well, good morning," the boy teased, looking at you sweetly. "you slept so late!"

"adventure time?" you ignored his quip as you fixated on the television, and followed up with a surprised "oh!" at the sound of your voice. the first words you let out all morning where rough as sandpaper, the sounds scraping at the inside of your throat and coming out strangled. you swallowed thickly and winced, feeling the soreness grow rapidly worse.

"shit, you don't sound good," matt waved you over and made you sit right beside him, "are you feeling sick?"

"i'm fine." you croaked.

"you clearly aren't!" matt pressed the back of his palm to your clammy forehead and rolled his eyes. sometimes you hated when he did that- he always rolled his eyes as if he had all the answers. he could be a real know-it-all at times. "jeez, babe, you're really hot,"

"oh, you're too kind," you joked, but every word sounded like more of a hoarse whisper than anything.

matt couldn't help but laugh at how badly you were trying to pretend that you weren't coming down with something. "not like that, dumbass! you're burning up!"

"matt, i told you i'm fine-"

"just sit here, i will be right back."

matt left you on the couch to rummage through all the cabinets in his kitchen. you watched curiously as he hopped between them all, shuffling the contents around and groaning after he continually did not find what he was looking for. the boy mumbled little "where the hell is it?"s and "how do we not have any?"s as he searched, and after five minutes of nothing, the boy returned to the couch and felt your forehead again.

"okay, what i'm gonna do is get you some water and a good blanket, and i'm gonna run to the store."

"matt-"