Chapter Text
you had been bedridden for the past couple of days.
the days were long, and the nights were dreadful—constant shuffling around in discomfort under sweltering sheets.
thankfully, your favorite fixer had insisted on looking after you. you had reassured him that he had no need, as he was an important asset of the kamisato estate. thoma persisted and explained that he was excused for the time being, providing yet another unmovable reason for him to stay.
“i promise you, i’m fine with taking care of myself,” you said one morning. “i don’t wanna burden you.”
but alas, the blonde man was nothing short of persistent in terms of nursing you back to health.
“the only thing that could possibly burden me is allowing you to go without my help.” he replied sternly.
you never took thoma as the stubborn type, but seeing as he’s a natural caretaker and considering your current condition, you decide not to oppose him.
as time passed, what was once a mere cough turned into a severe cold that practically had you croaking.
after hearing about your weakened state, he was quick to come with gifts and remedies to soothe you of your misery—all within a lovely basket. there were cards, flowers, medicines, and delectables from both kamisato siblings. knowing how busy ayato and ayaka’s affairs were, it was very thoughtful that they went out of their way to send their best wishes. you had made a mental note to thank them later.
but as for now, you couldn’t do so much as lift a finger.
you were excruciatingly sensitive, which made it hard to shift without feeling gross all over. the grogginess has practically paralyzed your every nerve while your own thoughts grew more incoherent. your bones seemed to weigh down and sink your body into the mattress—sweat seeping out of your pores. your nose was congested and your throat scratchy and dry. the blaring sunlight was starting to give you a splitting headache.
this was it, you thought. your tragic demise was drawing near with each passing second. the rays were soon to wash over your vision as you’d reach toward the light and (hopefully) cross over to the heavenly gates. celestia’s caress was practically at your cheek as both burned with the fieriest pyro flames.
archons, will this ever end anytime soon—
cutting off your woeful mental monologue, the curtains sealed the sun away and spared you of its wrath. finding little strength, your head shifted towards the figure at the window.
“good morning, sunshine,” the blonde-haired man chuckled softly, his head turning over his shoulder to greet you with the same warm smile he always had. “i hope you weren’t too uncomfortable while i was gone.”
something about that made you grumble under your breath. before that, thoma had set a tray on your nightstand. he must've entered your room unnoticed. you started to wonder if, along with your other senses, you were starting to lose awareness of your surroundings, too.
a sudden cool sensation pressed against your forehead, causing you to flinch slightly—yet easing you of your grogginess and sending chills down the tips of your fingers and toes.
“you’re sweating an awful lot,” he frowned apologetically, wiping the damp towel along your speckled forehead before pressing the back of his hand against it. “and burning up, too.”
an attempt to shakily sigh resulted in a painful, hoarse cough. he only wished he could share some of the troubles on your shoulders. “i’m sorry, i should’ve closed the curtains sooner.”
you simply shook your head. complaining about your sickly struggles was the very last thing in mind when he’s gone through the hassle of playing nurse with you.
he took extra care when handling you, his hands supporting your body as he slowly lifted you up to wipe up the rest of your dampened skin. as much as you disliked being incapable and a burden to others, his tenderness made you soften. the way his hands glided along your skin, with such delicacy and caution. you found your eyes closing at his touch.
“thoma,”
“mm?”
“..thank you.”
you hadn’t realized just how raspy your voice had gotten with time. throughout the day, you mostly remained silent as to spare your windpipe, and would reply in quiet hums and movements of your head. though with how ill you’ve fallen, it was no surprise that your vocal cords would worsen regardless of how little you’ve spoken.
looking up he noticed the glossiness of your eyes and how you sniffled. he couldn’t differentiate between your emotions and fever. before he could question frantically, sensing his panic, you wiped away the thick droplets.
“s’okay, just the sickness again,” you couldn’t help but smile at the relief washing over him as his tense shoulders relaxed when he sighed. it almost made you laugh at how motherly he was. protective of the dangers around you like a mama bear with her cub.
tho-mama bear.
how silly.
“what’re you cheesing at, hm?” his grin reflected yours, causing a giggle to slip from you as he reached over and pinched softly at your cheek.
“here. i made my specialty, just for you,” after making sure you were positioned comfortably, he placed the tray on top of a towel on your lap. “careful, it’s still hot.”
miso soup. although this time particularly different from the kind you usually see him make.
its aroma was pleasant. you could feel your sinuses start to open up as the steam entered your nose.
in the middle was a nicely carved carrot floating atop. it made you wonder just how long he took to put this much dedication into this one bowl, let alone all his other dishes.
each spoonful was warmer than the last, its heat soothing the inner walls of your throat. even while he was beside you, the image of his golden smile remained present in your mind. you wondered if he had a secret special ability that let him win over your heart with his cooking.
and if he did, it was working.
one sip quickly turned into two—then three, four, until you found yourself staring at the bottom of the bowl.
you sighed as you rubbed your tummy, now satisfied with your fill. thoma set aside the towel and tray on the nightstand, allowing you to stretch your limbs. your back pressed against the mattress once more.
“good soup,” you mumbled nasally in contentment.
thoma hummed with a happy chuckle, pleased with your reaction.
“i also brought medicine for you to take,” you whined but complied. quickly downing the liquid you grimaced at its flavor. “it’s bitter, i know, but you won’t get better without it.”
he shifted, assuming he was getting up to leave, you tugged on the hanging fabric at his waist.
“stay, please,”
he only blinked and stared for but a moment, before his lips curled into the softest smile. the faintest dimples present in his pink-dusted cheeks.
it almost made you too emotional.
laying beside you he went on talking about his day, about anything and everything. how fond he was of the tea-potted butler bird that resided just outside your home, how fond he was of the many pets within the realm, how fond he was of you. and you listened. you paid attention to every word, syllable, and sentence spoken in his soft, lighthearted voice. you felt at peace.
everything else blurred into the background as you began to drift away, sleep soon engulfing you.
the bed ever so slightly shifts. glimpsing over for your well-being, he finds the stillness in your form.
he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest. how serene you looked as you slept. the way the thin row of sunlight peeked through the curtains and painted across your face with a golden glow. he felt his insides flutter when witnessing the smallest pull at your cheeks.
what could you be dreaming of that had you smiling so preciously? he was left to curiously ponder to himself.
perhaps you were dreaming of the most wonderful things. things that he wished he could be a part of.
little did he know that nearly all your warmest dreams were of him. ones that would grace a smile upon your face and have your body and toes curling in pure happiness. lulling deeper into your slumber, you nuzzled into the softness of your pillow.
you dreamt of his touch. his hand caressing your head as the other held you close. so cozy it was to be enclosed within his safe embrace.
you dreamt of his hair. strands of tussled gold that tickled your skin when you felt his nose dig into your shoulder. you could sense the crease of his lips against your collarbone.
you dreamt of his eyes. how the two emeralds twinkled so brightly whenever he beamed.
your discomforts could hardly reach you when you were sleeping so peacefully. the sickness had practically dissipated in your moments of serenity.
your soreness had been replaced by a relieving warmth, a warmth that eased all of your ailments.
his warmth.