Actor Imagines: Thomas Brodie Sangster Book 2

Sick P1

I slightly shivered as I rode my bike thought the cold autumn streets, the pathways covered in layers of orange, red and gold leaves, the green grass of gardens littered with twigs, a few houses having little pumpkins on their doorsteps, a few evil people daring to have the unholy twinkle of Christmas lights in their windows already.

I kept my wheels turning as the sky was getting darker and the chill in the air was growing till I reached the little house I had been looking for, I pulled my bike onto the driveway chaining it to the garage door and heading up the little gravel path till I hopped into the porch and knocked on the little door

"Oooh good evening y/n" she smiled opening the door

"Hi, how's he doing?" I asked as she let me in and I began to slip off my coat as the heat in here was insane compared to out there

"Like hell," she says "I'm sure he'll be happier once he knows your here" she smiled "go on you know the way" he smiled "ohh and ask him if he wants some pie"

I laughed and hurried up the staircase turning sharply on the corner to the bedroom door covered in stickers gently pushing it open revealing the blue bedroom, his bed not made tucked up within the corner of the room, his desk covered in paperwork, his TV mounted to the wall with his little sofa facing it, almost every inch of the floor was covered with dirty clothes and tissues, even if the bed was full of them. And I spotted him sat on his little sofa a blanket over his legs, a blanket around his shoulders, he wore his grey sweatpants and an old blue triumph t-shirt, his console controller in his hand and a box of tissues to his side he looked sickly pale...well.more than usual, his nose bright red and his eyes looking weary his hair a bedhead it slowly worsening each day s I know he hasn't brushed it once, I couldn't help but laugh, it was kinda adorable to see him this way.

"Hi germy" I giggled shutting his bedroom door behind me

He groaned a little holding his throat before he spoke his voice sounded harsh and broken like he had been gargling sand and razor blades yet sickly still almost as if you could hear the mucus in his nose and throat with each word "oohh fuck off y/n"

"Fine I'll go" I laughed faking being offended

"No... I'm sorry y/n" he answered "don't go"

"How are you doing sickie?" I laughed sitting beside him on the sofa

"Still sick, I wouldn't get too close y/n maybe I'm infectious?"

"You're not infectious Thomas you have a cold" I laughed

"I have the flu" he corrected

"You have man flu" I laughed

"what's the difference?"

"The dramatics"

"I have the flu y/n" he complained

"You might but you're not dying," I laughed as I got my bag "medicine... take it" I warn handing him the tablets I got him at the pharmacy he grimaced and put them to the side with his tissues "Thomas" I warn "don't you wanna get better?"

"Not really no..."

"Why not?"

"I get to do my work at home which suits me better, I get to spend all day in my lazy clothes, I can spend all day in bed if I want, and I get you visiting me everyday, everyday and giving me cuddles" he smiled nuzzling into my shoulder "why would I wanna get better?"

"Take them, before I force them in you" I warn

"No, I'll keep my mouth shut you can't force my mouth open to take them" he argues