timothée chalamet imagines

sick

timothée's pov

I groaned loudly as I sat up and reached over to the side table to grab a tissue.

Just as I started blowing my nose, y/n walked in.

"Hey sleepy head." she smiled, sitting next to me.

"What time is it?" I asked, throwing out the tissue.

"2:30" she sighed "How are you feeling?"

"A little better."

I really wasn't. I just don't want her to worry about me.

She took her hand and pressed the back of it up to my forehead.

She shook her head and got up "you're still burning up."

"Baby" I grabbed her hand "I'm okay, really."

"No you're not. You need to get better and rest."

"You don't have to take care of me. I know you have things to do, I'll be fine." I said.

"Yes, I do. You do the same thing for me when I'm sick." she peeled off the sweaty curls stuck to my forehead. "let me tuck you in."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

I could never say no to her. I laid back down and she covered me with the blanket and adjusted my pillow.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"No, thank you."

She nodded.

"Feel better." she said walking toward the door.

I grinned and dozed off.