Rain or Shine (UnWilling Roommates book 2.5)

Flu Season

Something's going around, and it's not pretty.

(Y/N POV)

"Honeys, I'm home!" you called as you kicked open the door, loaded down with groceries.  You heard Bill mumble a greeting from the living room, clearly still taking advantage of his newfound TV privileges.

Will hurried to meet you in the kitchen.  "Here, let me take those."  He grabbed the grocery bags from you before you could object.  Instead of simply putting the groceries away, Will started rearranging everything in the pantry and fridge.  You didn't think it was necessary, but you'd learned it was easier just to humor his OCD or he'd get upset and start apologizing endlessly for no reason.

You left him to his habitual cleaning and wandered into the living room.  Bill had been parked on the sofa since Jasmine had gone home, intending to indulge himself to the fullest for the entire month.

Hanging over the back of the couch, you watched TV with Bill for a few minutes before wandering back into the kitchen to check up on Will's progress.  He was standing in front of the fridge, gripping an egg crate with both hands.  You thought he might be taking a break from cleaning before you remembered that Will didn't take breaks.  Also, he was swaying on his feet.

"Will, are you feeling alright?" you rushed across the kitchen, taking the eggs out of his hand and setting them on the counter before feeling his forehead with concern.  "You're burning up!"

"N-no, I'm-" he burst out coughing, covering his mouth with the collar of his sweater.  You grabbed his elbows, leaning him against the counter until the fit ended and he could breathe again.  He picked up the eggs, trying to go back to work, but you snatched them out of his hands.

"No.  No way.  You're going straight to bed and that's final."  He shook his head frantically, tears in his eyes.

"I- I can't!  I have to put away th-the groceries!" he fretted.  You knew it would aggravate his anxiety if he wasn't allowed to finish his job, but his face was an alarming ashen color.

"Don't worry about it.  I'll do it."  You led him out of the kitchen and sat him down in a dining chair.  His legs practically collapsed beneath him as he sat.  Even still, he attempted to protest, standing up again to go back to work.

"That's it, come with me."  You practically dragged him down the hall into his room.

He struggled weakly but burst out coughing again as you threw back his covers and forced him to lay down.  You tucked him in tightly and sat on his bed, trapping his arms as he tried to stand back up.  You leaned your forearm against his shoulders gently but firmly, smoothing his blue hair with your other hand.

"Shh, Blue Raspberry.  Just rest, all right?  Don't worry about a thing, sweetie."

Still he refused to relax.  You knew that his fear of punishment was outweighed only by his fear of being abandoned by you if he was no longer of use.  His breathing was ragged and he was staring at you with something approaching panic.

You leaned over Will, pressing your forehead against his and feeling the heat from his fever.  Up close, his azure eyes really were stunning, but you could see the fear in them.  Your hand was still in his hair, your other arm resting gently against his chest.

"Just relax, Will.  You're sick and you need to rest," you murmured.  "If you persist in tiring yourself out, you'll make yourself worse and you might get Bill and me sick too.  You don't want that, do you?" 

His eyes widened and he started to apologize, but you shushed him again.  Keeping your face close to his, you started humming a lullaby.  You began stroking his hair again as he slowly relaxed.