"It's nice of you to stop by," Stormie said to you, pulling the door open a little wider so that you could enter the foyer. "But Ryland is sick today, sweetie." Her brow furrowed together in worry as she spoke. She ran her hands over her apron and shrugged. "You can go talk to him if you want. He hasn't gotten out of bed all day."
You smiled and nodded. "I'll see how he's doing," you assured her before you went your separate ways. The wooden banister felt smooth underneath your hand as you held on, letting it guide you up the stairs. A right turn. His door was the first on the right. The door hadn't been shut all the way and you could hear muffled sniffling coming from the dark room. "Ry, are you alive?" you quietly called into the room, pushing the door open slightly and peeking your head in.
"Barely," came a raspy reply. You saw him lying in his bed with multiple blankets crisscrossed over his midsection and a box of tissues next to his head. He was on his stomach, his head buried into a pillow and his hair a rat's nest on the top of his head. "I'm glad you're here," he continued as he rolled over, "but I don't want to get you sick, baby girl."
You rolled your eyes and pulled some of the comforters off of him. His sin was burning to the touch, yet he shivered violently as the layers disappeared. "Did you take anything to make you feel better?" you asked him. He rolled over slightly to make room for you and nodded in response. "And did it work?"
"I don't think so," he coughed. You pulled him by his arm so that he would snuggle into your side. "Whatever this is... it's putting up a fight."
His hair tickled your neck as he nuzzled into you. Your fingers tried to comb out the little tangles gently as you rubbed his bicep. "My poor baby," you cooed, kissing his forehead. "I don't care if I get sick. I want to stay here with you for a while."
"Sweetheart?" Stormie made an appearance at the door with her phone in her hand. She smiled at the sight of the two of you and placed one hand over her heart with a little sigh. "I made you an appointment to see the family doctor for this afternoon," she said once she could remember what she came in there for. She raised her eyebrows the minute Ryland opened his mouth, knowing exactly what he was going to say; she didn't want to hear it from him. He took the warning and sank back down into your side as his mother walked away and left the two of you alone once again.
Ryland mumbled and grumbled into your chest, causing you to laugh. "What was that about?" you asked. "It was like you had an entire conversation without even saying anything."
"I hate doctors," he groaned. "They freak me out." You could feel him shudder as he thought about it. "I just would rather stick it out. I'll be fine. Nothing they can do for me; it's just a cold."
"Ryland," you sighed. "It'll be fine. Doctors are just there to help you. What are you freaked out about?" Your hand rubbed small circles on his back, trying to comfort him the best you could. To be honest, doctors weren't your favorite either. But for his sake, you had to let your logical side do the talking. Ryland mumbled more nonsense, pulling the pile of blankets over both of you. "If you go, I'll see if I can spend the night tonight. I'm sure your mom won't mind."
He looked up into your eyes and a small smile crept over his face. "Really?"
"No dirty stuff," you said with your nose crinkled. "You're sick, ya dummy.
"But you'll cuddle with me all night?" You nodded and a little yawn escaped your mouth. He pondered your offer and finally gave in. "Deal... I'll go to the doctor, but I won't like it."
"No one ever said you had to like it," you giggled.
