~~Mark's POV~~
I wake up to a loud coughing in my ear. I roll over and see Jack, curled up in a ball, coughing profusely. Tiny tears stain his face. Awe...poor guy!
"Babe? You okay?" I ask and sit him up against the headboard so he's upright.
"N-No!" he splutters.
"Do you want water?" He can only nod in reply, speech halted by the loud noises erupting from him. Mind swimming in negative and worried thoughts, I run to the bathroom and hastily fill up a glass.
By the time I get back, he's huddled in a shirtless ball of sweat, tears and spit. I run over and immediately start to comfort his juddering body.
"Hush baby...it's okay now. Here, take this..." I sit him up again and hand him the full glass of water. Which he quickly gulps down. Eyes flickering and chest rising and falling irregularly, Jack looks down at his shaking hands.
"I-I'm sorry I woke you..." he croaks, throat probably coarse and sore.
"Hey, don't say sorry. I do it because I love you with all my heart and soul and HATE to see you ill like this..." I explain and I can feel my eyes brows unfurrow a little.
"I-I'm okay I-I think..." He's lying back down before I can object.
"Okay hon, but if you need ANYTHING-"
"At all, just let you know. I got it baby..." he finishes and garnishes the ending with a little sneeze. He's so damn cute, even when ill.
"Okay, love you. Night babe..." My hands trace the definitions of his abs on his torso as I feel myself drift off again. I might as well now that the negative thoughts are at bay...
--Time Skip! (To Morning!)--
I squeeze my hands around the warm body that's in front of me. Well, supposed to be. It seems to be missing.
My footsteps pad lightly down our stairs as I run down them. Is he down here? Because I know for a fact that he isn't upstairs. Muffled coughs sound out so at least I'm in the right place.
"Jack?"
"Mmf?!" Is all I get in reply. I stroll into the living room and grin at what I see.
He's got the blankets all around him and looks like a deer under headlights. He's too cute!
"Whatcha doin' here babe?"
"Well, I didn't wanna disturb you again during the night so I took the spare blanket and came and tried to sleep here. I feel like shit..." he explains and I pull him in for another embrace. Only realising then that it's 11:03AM...oops. I over-slept.
"Is there anything you want? Food? Medicine? My home-made chicken soup?" One of his wild eye-brows raises curiously.
"Can I have your soup? And like, a lot of it..." he asks, hanging his head low.
"Of course you can baby. Just yell me if you need anything, yeah?"
"Yeah..." he chuckles as I wander into the kitchen to make the soup. He always picks the soup. My damn chicken soup...
~~{{}}~~
Hello! Thanks for reading! This was a request from QueenElsa216!
THANKS FOR 620 READS!!!! HOLY SHITE NUGGETS!!! (damn, we're 13k now ;-; (as of the 5th june 2017))
LOVE YOU GUYS! I'M ALLOWED TO YELL, I'M IRISH!
Zak xx
