Youtubers Imagines

in sickness and in health~ Jack Harries(JacksGap)

Your dreamless sleep was interrupted by a knock at the door of your flat. Groaning you rolled over in bed feeling a persistent pounding in your skull, the person on the other side of the door knocked again so you hauled yourself up out of the sheets. As soon as you stood upright you felt dizzy or like the ground was shifting beneath your feet. Grabbing onto a chest of drawers for balance you stumbled out of your bedroom, down the hallway and to the door. You pulled it open to reveal your boyfriend Jack standing behind it.

“Holy shit (Y/N), are you okay?” his face turning from a smile to a grimace of worry. You placed your hand on your clammy forehead, struggling to keep your balance. No you weren’t fine, not in a million years, but you waved off his concerns.

“I’m fine,” you said even though there seemed to be two Jacks in front of you.

“No you’re not,” Jack said coming inside your apartment and shutting the door behind him. He placed his hand on your lower back and started to lead you towards your living room as it was nearest. By now you were feeling very ill, the pounding in your head had almost doubled in intensity and your stomach had begun to churn.

Reaching out with your hand you found your way to the couch and promptly collapsing onto it as a cold chill took over your body. You lay down on your back pulling a blanket (that had been on the floor) up to your chin to try calm your shivers.

“I think you’re ill (Y/N),” Jack said biting his lip before turning to your kitchen and looking around in your cupboards until he found the medicine cabinet.

“I don’t need medicine Jack,” you groaned rolling over so that you were more comfortable. Jack looked like he might argue but he clearly remembered how stubborn you could be about these kinds of things.

“Fine but at least let me take your temperature,” he said walking back over to you; thermometer in hand. You popped it in your mouth and handed it back to him a few minutes later.

“102 degrees!” he exclaimed, but you didn’t care; you just wanted to sleep. You felt cold, so dreadfully cold yet this little piece of plastic made it out that you were freezing. It had to be wrong.

“Just let me sleep Jack,” you weakly argued. He opened his mouth; as though he meant to say something but shut it again.

“Okay,” he said softly sitting next to you on the soft cushions of the sofa.

The last thing you felt before drifting off to sleep was his hand stroking the hair out of your face.

Your sleep was fitful and full of fever induced dreams. Strange illusions that made no sense but seemed so, so real. A couple of times you caught snatches of Jack’s voice telling you incoherent things. Eventually though you woke from your sleep feeling not much better, less tired though.

“Feeling any better?” you heard Jack ask from the kitchen.

“Not much,” you croaked rubbing sleep from your eyes, “I think I have the flu.”

Soon the smell of cooking filled your partially blocked nostrils making you sit up higher; ignoring the rush of pain to your head.

“What are you making?” you inquired.

“Soup,” Jack said, you frowned however knowing his lack of culinary skills.

“Don’t worry it came out of the can,” Jack chuckled obviously knowing where you train of thought was going.

The bowl of soup arrived piping hot and it smelt good. Slowly, so as not to burn yourself, you took a sip. And it did make you feel a bit better.

“Thank you,” you said once you had finished.

“No problem,” Jack said placing his lips to your forehead, “Feel better soon.”