i'm sooo sorry for taking so long to write this. it's kind of a short one but i hope you like it!
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Your P.O.V
Huffing, I stared at my phone that had my call history list opened, showing seven outgoing calls in a row to my boyfriend that he had kindly declined. It didn't really bother me that Ambrose kept rejecting my calls. What bothered me was that he was sick and was trying to hide it from me. Had it not been for Sabrina texting me about it, I wouldn't have known.
Shaking my head, I sighed, deciding not to waste time by calling him again. Instead, I began to make my way to the Spellman house, messaging Sabrina to let her know I was on the way. I hoped that Ambrose would finally open up a bit and let me be there for him. There were countless times that I had been sick and Ambrose always showed up with a bowl of amazing soup that his Aunt Hilda made. Why wasn't he willing to let me take care of him like he always takes care of me?
Trapped in my frustrated thoughts, I hadn't realized that I was already walking up the porch steps of the Spellman house. Before I even brought my hand anywhere near the doorbell, the wooden door swung open, revealing Sabrina's face.
"Y/N, you're here!" Her smile grew at the sight of me and she let me in.
"Hey," I smiled, looking at the stairs that led upstairs. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts about Ambrose. "I'm going to go check on Ambrose. Is he in his room?"
When she nodded, I headed up the stairs and walked toward Ambrose's room. I knocked on the door and gently called out his name before slowly pushing his door open. My mood immediately dropped when I saw Ambrose curled up under his blanket, his sweaty face being the only part of him that I could see.
"Ambrose," I sighed, smiling sympathetically when he looked at me.
I walked closer, stepping over the several used tissues on the floor and finally made it to his bed. I sat down at the edge of it, feeling his forehead. I frowned at how warm his skin was.
"I'm alright," he reassured. His voice sounded tired and raspy but he still forced a smile. "You didn't have to come."
"You're clearly not alright, Ambrose," I shook my head, stroking his sweat-clad hair. "Why were you so against the idea of me coming? I was honestly expecting you to teleport yourself out of here when you heard my voice," I chuckled, plucking a few tissues from the tissue box on the bedside table and wiping his wet face with them.
"I tried to, really," he grinned softly. "But my powers are too weak." I laughed at how even in times of sickness, he managed to be charming and witty.
Not saying anything, I focused on getting him in a position that didn't make him look like he was drowning in blankets. I motioned for him to lift his head a little, quickly putting his two pillows in a more upright position so he could actually see things aside from the ceiling. When he sighed loudly, I chuckled, deciding to take it as a sign that he was much more comfortable now.
"Y/N, you're going to catch my cold."
I chose to ignore him and instead, I asked, "did you eat or drink anything?" I wanted to make sure he wasn't lying here dehydrated or on an empty stomach.
He nodded, then a few seconds later, he said with raised eyebrows, "you don't have to baby me, you know. I was doing fine on my own."
"Yeah? Then would you mind telling me why you looked like you were close to death before I showed up?" I deadpanned, rolling my eyes at his 'I'm a man and I can handle everything myself' attitude. "Just shut up and let me take care of you. Okay, babe?"
Smiling contently, I took his silence as a reward. Finally, I could look after him without being nagged at. After freeing his feet from the smothering blankets that they were trapped under, I turned to my boyfriend, deciding to ask the question that had been bugging my mind.
"Why didn't you want me to know you were sick, Ambrose?" I questioned, disappointment dawning upon my face. "I mean, I know your aunts and Sabrina were probably taking good care of you, but why did you let me be here for you?"
Ambrose exhaled loudly, weakly pushing himself up into a half-seated position. Sheepishly, he said, "I didn't want you to see me like this."
"Ambrose," I frowned at his response, "I'll always love you and want to see you and to take care of you, no matter what."
I pursed my lips as I moved from the edge of his bed to sit directly next to him with my back against the headboard. It was silent for a while as I caressed his soft cheek, his eyes closed. The only audible thing was Ambrose's soft breathing through his clearly blocked nose.
"I'm glad you're here, though," he mentioned in a whisper. His eyes were still closed but now a soft smile had appeared on his lips. "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you too," I smiled, gently pressing my lips against his, despite knowing that he was sick.
