Charlie George Imagines

Imagine #10

"Ugh," Your boyfriend groans, shooting you a pout from across the room. You're sitting in the alcove over-looking the London streets below, a book in your hand while he's lounging on the couch. You look up from your intriguing story, meeting his eyes, "What, Charlie?" You say, slightly annoyed that he's interrupting you, most likely for a very trivial reason. "(Y/N), I think I'm sick," He whines, sniffling a bit as if he needed to prove his point. You'll admit, his cheeks do look a little flushed. He contorts his face then, making a few very unattractive faces before he sneezes into the crease of his arm, looking at you with the most pitiful expression you've ever seen, "Scratch that, I know I'm sick." You chuckle a bit, rising to your feet and crossing over to him, placing your palm on his forehead. You're surprised by his temperature, "You're burning up!" You exclaim, watching as he lets out a few more sneezes. He whines when he finishes, collapsing deeper into the couch, "Aww, baby," You say, reaching behind him and wrapping a blanket around his long body, doing your best to cover every part of him, his height making that a bit of a challenge. He looks up at you with his big brown eyes, sadness filling them, "Will you make me some soup?" He asks feebly, cuddling under the warmth of the wool blanket. You smile, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, "Chicken noodle?" You ask, watching his face light up almost instantly as he nods his head furiously. The boy loves Chicken Noodle Soup, sick or not. You walk into the kitchen, making a mental note to run to the store to pick up a few more cans of his favorite soup.