⁺◦ 𝔥𝔬𝔱 | 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 .

↳ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐧 .

no matter how many times he repositions himself in the bed, vernon can't seem to fall asleep. you've tried ignoring his restlessness, but you can't remain indifferent any longer.

"why can't you fall asleep, my love?" you speak into the darkness that engulfs the bedroom.

"oh, did i wake you? i'm sorry if i did." your boyfriend, vernon, responds to you.

having this conversation in the dark feels awkward, so you find hand trails along the bedside table that holds a lamp. you turn on the lamp. the small space is illuminated by the lamp.

"no, it's fine, you didn't wake me." you turn to face vernon, as you say this. "now, will you please tell me what's bothering you enough to keep you up this late at night?"

"it's nothing," vernon avoids your stare.

is he okay? what's going on with him?

you look at vernon, studying him. his eyes look glassy and sunken in. you realize that he probably hasn't had a good night's sleep in at least three days. the gap of space between you and vernon surely isn't making you feel  less uneasy, so you move as close to him as possible.

you kiss him on his forehead and realize that something is wrong. his forehead is awfully hot. "vernon, you're burning up. are you running a fever?"

you flip your hand over, then press the back of it to his forehead.

"no, i'm not running a fever." vernon swats your hand away.

surprised, you pull away from him. you tilt your head to the side and survey him. "okay, so you wouldn't mind if i check your temperature?"

"no, don't that!" vernon snaps.

he doesn't even try to keep his panic buried in his thoughts. the panic seems to cloud his features, forcing his eyes to become wide and his hands to start trying to pull you back into bed with him.

"you are sick." you say, after evading his attempts to keep you planted next to him.

now, you stand on the right side of the bed. you're just a few movements away from grabbing the thermometer.

"i've got work tomorrow, (y/n). i can't miss it." vernon says, making you stop mid-movement.

you look up at him, then you tell him what's really happening. "no, vernon, what you've got is a cold."

"(y/n)," vernon tries to reach for you again, but he fails. he tries to fight off a headache that has momentarily immobilized him.

you rush to grab the thermometer from the drawer to confirm what you already know to be true.

"i'm staying home from work tomorrow to take care of you." you say after reading vernon's outrageous temperature from the thermometer.

one hundred degrees is far too hot.

"no, (y/n), you don't have to that." vernon tries to reason with you, but you're heading out of the room.

you go to the medicine drawer that houses all of the medicine in the house. you grab advil and a decongestant medicine. you don't forgot to grab a bottle of water so vernon can easily swallow the pill.

"please take this." you say, handing the pill bottle to vernon.

you open his water bottle for him, while he continues to insist that he's fine. "i'm fine, (y/n). i don't need to take any medicine because i'm not sick."

"vernon, you're running a one hundred degree fever." you tell him.

"i am?" vernon asks, completely startled by what the information that you just shared with him.

"yes,"

vernon takes the pill without complaining. he sighs after he takes the decongestant medicine. "thank you for taking care of me, beautiful."