Chamber of Reflection (Mileven one-shots)

But it's better if you do

-- Eleven gets sick, Mike takes care of her. Get ready for a cuteness overload.

Mike's P.O.V

El has been sick with a cold for the past few days. She's miserable! So I've decided that I'm going to help her feel better.

"Would you like anything to eat or drink?" I ask softly as she lies in my bed.

"More Eggos." She mutters softly with a cough afterwards.

"Are you sure you want Eggos I can make you soup or something." I offer.

"Eggos." She repeats sternly.
I nod, leaving the room to get the Eggos.

20 minutes later

Normally it doesn't take more than two minutes to make Eggos But the first two I made burnt, the second batch I had all of the syrup on them, and I tripped on the way up the stairs, so I finally made the third batch, and successfully brought it up to El.

"Thanks." She says softly as she chows down on them.

"Yeah! But I wouldn't eat them so fast, it might make you feel sicker."

She nods, slowing down a bit.

"Need anything else?" I ask.

"Juice?" She questions softly.

"Yeah, sure. What kind? Orange juice?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll be right back." I say quickly as I run back down the stairs.

I rummage through the fridge until I find the orange juice.

"Found it!" I mutter to myself, pulling out the carton.

I fill a small glass with it, then go to take it upstairs.

Like I normally do, I run up the stairs.
But with my luck, I fall straight on my face... again.

The OJ spills all over me and the carpeted stairs.

"Dang it!" I yell.

I stand up, pick up the cup, and head back downstairs to refill it.

Once it's refilled, I don't even dare run up the stairs, so I slowly walk up.

"Here you go." I say softly, handing her the glass... finally.

"Thanks Mike."

"You're welcome. It's really no problem." I clearly lie.

"What's all over your shirt?" She asks softly, sounding congested from her cold.

"Orange... juice." I say slowly in embarrassment.

She laughs.
"Is that why you took so long?"

"Yeah... same thing happened with the waffles." I admit.

She giggles again.

"Maybe you should get your stuff next time."

"But it's better if you do."

"Why?"

"Because you make it fun." She says sweetly.

"Fun?" I ask.

"Yeah. It makes me happy, so then I feel a lot better." She describes.

"Oh," I blush. "That's good then. Need me to spill anything else on myself?"

"Actually do you have soup?"

Eleven's P.O.V

20 minutes later

Sitting in bed in silence, I turn to my side to try to get a little more comfortable. I close my eyes then...
"Come, on!" Mike yells angrily.

I laugh softly, knowing that he must have spilled the soup on himself.

Maybe there's something wrong with the stairs.

Mike appears in the room with a bowl of soup, a frown, clenched teeth and a completely soaked shirt.

"Here you go." He tries to say softly but it was more aggressive.
I take the bowl, trying so hard not to laugh.

"Maybe there's something wrong with the stairs." I offer.

He faces me and shrugs. "Probably."

"Anything else?" He asks.

"No, I'm okay now." I smile softly.

He nods, and as he tries to leave the room, I see the box on the floor, and...

"God dammit!" He screams as he falls to the floor.

"Maybe it's better if you do." He mutters.

I laugh softly. He's such a clutz.