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As Harry enters the living room, he finds his girlfriend Y/n engrossed in a Bones rerun. Interrupting her momentary bliss, he greets her with a charming smile and a tray of remedies. Y/n looks up at him, congested and miserable, but her boyfriend's presence brings a glint of hope to her eyes.
"What's all this?" Y/n asks as she tries to sit up, but a wave of nausea hits her, and she groans, falling back against the sofa. Harry coos sympathetically as he sets the tray down on the coffee table. "I told you about moving too quickly, Pet. It might make your tummy feel more sour."
Y/n pouts and gazes longingly at the steaming bowl of soup in the middle of the tray, surrounded by crackers and a cup of tea. "But I want my soup," she whines.
Harry isn't convinced and asks if she thinks she can keep it down. He rests the back of his hand against her forehead, and she leans into his touch, sniffles following. "You're still a bit warm," he observes as he pulls his hand away. "But I haven't thrown up in over an hour, and I want soup," Y/n pleads. "Please, if only a few bites?"
Harry melts under her gaze, and before he knows it, he's sitting beside her with the tray in his hands. He feeds her a couple of small spoonfuls of soup, blowing on each spoonful before feeding it to her. Five spoonfuls seem to be the cap, and Harry takes the bowl away. "That's probably good for now," he says. "I don't want to feed you too much and risk you throwing it up."
Y/n grouches, "I hate being sick."
"I know, baby. I hate when you're sick too." Harry guides Y/n's head to rest in his lap, gently combing her hair through the stray tendrils that have escaped her messy bun. He glances up at the TV, wincing at the scene before him where a woman pulls the remains of a human hand free from inside a dead bear. "Are you sure this show won't turn your stomach more? You're already feeling nauseous," Harry asks.
"It's quite soothing, actually," Y/n says, yawning. "Will you watch it with me?"
"I've got no choice. I'm trapped under a beautiful girl right now. I've got no escape," Harry jokes, grinning down at his girlfriend and shooting her a playful wink. Y/n manages to scoff. "I'm not beautiful when I'm this sick, trust me," she gripes.
"Don't say that, pet. You know you're always beautiful to me," Harry says, leaning down to place a kiss on Y/n's forehead.
"Softie," she chuckles, but she still reaches for one of Harry's hands to hold. He obliges, lacing his fingers through Y/n's and squeezing her hand. They sit in silence for a while, and Harry becomes completely engrossed in the Bones episode. At one point, he glances down at Y/n, prepared to ask her a question about one of the characters, only to find that she's sound asleep, snoring softly.
"Sweet dreams, baby," Harry whispers, squeezing Y/n's hand softly, careful not to wake her.
Of course, Harry hated it when his girlfriend fell ill, but he loved getting to take care of her in times like those. It reminded him how much he loved her.
