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You startle awake as a strand of hair is gently tucked behind one of your ears. Exhausted and dizzy, you open your eyes, only to see Rafayel sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you with furrowed brows.
“You’re still a little warm, Cutie. Not feeling better yet?” His voice is low, filled with worry about your ill condition. The flu has you in a tight grip, and after two days of passing out constantly and fighting the fever, you have still not recovered. “I’m calling a doctor if it doesn’t get better this afternoon.”
Weak, you grip his wrist that continued to free your face from sweaty, damp hair. “That’s not necessary, Rafayel. It’s a normal flu. Just gimme the Ibuprofen, and it will be fine.” Your voice is nothing like it usually sounds, hoarse and barely audible. The fever has really taken a toll on your body.
Your boyfriend only sighs, a dramatic, heavy one that shows how much he disagrees with you. “If these don't help, I’ll drive you to the hospital.” His voice is firm, tolerating no dissent from you.
You gulp, but agree with a mere “Okay.”
Rafayel helps you sit upright against the massive headboard of his bed, that is now your shared one. He places some pillows behind your back and shoulders until you are able to sit comfortably.
“Let’s see how high your fever is actually.” He declares, and with a little sing-song in his voice “Open up~.” The thermometer you know so well by now flies in the direction of your mouth, guided by a nimble artist hand, and you obediently part your lips.
Exactly 30 seconds later, the device beeps, and Rafayel gathers it back. “Hmm…” He ponders for a second. “It went down. Good, good.” And with less worry in his sunset eyes, he looks back at you with a small smile.
Then he starts spooning up some of the soup that has been placed on the nightstand, steaming in a little blue bowl, which you only notice now. Even your nostrils are not working properly it seems, since you can’t smell anything that wafts over.
The hot spoon touches your lips with attentive carefulness as you hesitantly try some steaming liquid. But it tastes like water.
Uh-oh, you are really ill if you don’t even taste anything. But you swallow it regardless. Your doting boyfriend didn’t make this meal for nothing, and this is the least you can do for his efforts.
“Is it good?” Rafayel asks with this shy little smile.
You try to grin back, but fail miserably. “I’m sure it’s exquisite. I can’t taste anything though.”
“Ah, that’s a bummer. But even if you don’t have any taste buds working, you still need to have dinner.” Saying so, he feeds you the soup until it’s finished.
As result, a warm feeling spreads from your stomach throughout your whole body, and you slowly sink back under the covers.
A little rummaging from Rafayel later, and a heavy weight dips the mattress as he slips into the bed to lay next to you, and gathers you up in his arms.
“I can’t stand to see you suffering and in pain.” Then a gentle caress with his knuckles over your cheek. “Actually…” A little mischievous grin appears on his lips “I think I have something to make you feel better.” And with mirth glinting in his unique eyes, he places a kiss on your cheek, then your chin, and two more down your neck.
You giggle a little upon this “I don’t think this has any medical relevance.”
Then a soft kiss on your lips. “Oh, didn’t you know cutie? Lemurian kisses have secret healing magic. So you should get kisses from me a loooot.”
You hum, trying not to laugh as much “I see, I see. And Mr. Rafayel isn’t making stories up just to steal some of them.”
Then you’re met with a little pout “You doubt my credibility? I’m wounded.”
God, he’s so cute. Even in your bedridden state, he tries to make you laugh. And with some teasing, you answer him “I’m not going to pamper you when you are going to get sick from kissing me.”
Another kiss, lingering this time. A witness of his never ending hunger and greed for you. “Ruuude. Threatening the Sea God like this. Take this, my brazen bride.” And you caress his cheeks as he continues to cover your face in little pecks that make you giggle again.
“Silly Fish…” You sigh, as he ends his 'punishment‘ with another slow and tender kiss on your parted lips.
Then he releases you, and snuggles comfortably against your back. “Please, be a good girl and rest, yeah? I’m here if you need anything.”