Thomas Brodie-Sangster Imagines

The Joy of Illness

Here came my knight in shining armor.

I had made the terrible mistake of telling Thomas that I was sick, and he had gotten on his motorbike and driven all the way to my house to look after me.

We had been friends for a really long time, and we were so close that we were almost like siblings. I loved that boy.

And he was a sweetheart for wanting to stay with me, but I felt like it was unnecessary.

Thomas probably had something more important to do than to take care of poor little Y/N. Like reading a script, for example.

Yeah, I was feeling like crap. But it was just a cold. It wasn't the end of the world.

Thomas was standing in the threshold of my room, frowning as usual and staring at me in concern.

"You look worse than I thought" He told me with his British accent that I liked so much.

"I will survive" I told him, carelessly waving my hand in the air.

He placed his hands on his hips and licked his lips.

I tried not to laugh as I saw him frowning so much. I always found it amusing how he kept doing it.

"Do you need anything?"

"No" I was actually cold, but I didn't want to bother him, so I just coated myself with my bed sheets and accommodated in my comfy bed.

Noticing it, Thomas grinned.

"You're cold" In a flash, he had grabbed a blanket.

"Ugh" I rolled my eyes as he carefully placed the blanket over me and sat in the bed with me.

"Want me to read you a bedtime story?" He joked, grinning again.

"Shut up" I groaned, hiding my face behind the blanket.

I heard Thomas chuckling and couldn't help but smile myself as he softly poked my ribs.

"Sing you a lullaby so you go to sleep then?" Thomas insisted, his husky voice bearing an obvious smile.

"Thomas..." I complained again, shoving the blanket against my face in frustration. I hated when he teased me like that.

I knew he was just trying to cheer me up because he was perfectly aware that I felt like crap. But still.

Thomas pulled the blanket off to reveal my face and I groaned again, feeling like a little kid.

"Make you a chicken soup?" That time, he could barely speak as he was giggling so hard.

"I hate you" I just said as I let my head fall on his leg, hiding my face on his jeans.

"No you don't" He chuckled, patting my head fondly but also playfully.

My headache got suddenly worse, and I winced in pain. I didn't want to move from that position as I felt like the dizziness and the headache would get just worse.

Besides, Thomas was a great pillow.

"Can I make anything to make you feel better?" He said, now sweetly caressing my hair.

"Just let me die here" I mumbled against his jeans.

He giggled but gently shook me to insist on it.

"Really, Y/N"

"You're not gonna leave, are you?" I sighed, leaning on him to lift my head and look up at him.