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The cough shook your frame before you could stop it, a low whine erupting from your throat shortly thereafter. Everything hurt. Well, more accurately everything ached dully. A slow throb that had started at the base of your skull this morning had rapidly progressed into all over your body. Chills had quickly caught up to you, sending small shivers down your body as you struggled to even begin to process how the day had ended up here. You’re laying on your couch, having semi-collapsed here after your trip to the mini-mart down the street. You’d needed medicine, that much you had realized, but the trip was a foggy daze that saw you returning to your home with a singular can of soup instead of medicine.
This probably wasn’t good.
Your doorbell rings and it sends a throb through your skull. “Too loud.” You whine, burying your face in the pillow.
A quiet knock on the door before it opens. You stiffen for a moment, before remembering only one other person in Linkon has your passcode to the door. The sound of Xavier taking off his shoes in favor of a pair of comfy slippers is soft, quiet as he usually is. Yet somehow, even that seems too loud in your current state. You let out a whine, face still buried within the pillow.
“Honey?” Xavier asks, voice soft and tender.
You whine in response. Words are hard.
You hear him approach, footsteps so light that you’d swear he’s not actually touching the ground. The soft sound of fabric scrunching, and there’s a gentle hand on top of your head. He pets your hair gently, stroking over it softly.
Subconsciously, you let out a sigh at the touch, something about his presence soothing the unsettled feeling in your body.
“Are you alright?” He asks, gentle as always.
You whine.
“Are you hurt?” He tries again, the hand petting your head still continuing in its gentle movements.
You shake your head, but wince at the movement.
“Honey…” Something about the way he says the word coaxes you to look at him.
You turn your head to the side, the bottom half of your face still buried in the plush softness of the pillow but your eyes open and they meet the beautiful blue that is Xavier’s gaze. He looks at you worried, crouched in front of your sofa to keep his face at level with yours.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
You shiver, the chills coming on again quickly and suddenly. It brings another pathetic whine to your throat. “Too cold, too hot…achey.”
Xavier sighs softly. “You’re sick.”
You try to shake your head, but it feels as though your body rejects the very notion of it. Instead, you sigh. “Not sick…”
Xavier cards his fingers through your hair. “You are, you’re shivering.”
“Then you should go.”
His hand stills. “What?”
“You should go…” You repeat, everything in you want s him to stay. “Don’t get sick too.”
Xavier shakes his head softly, ashy blond hair moving gently. It tickles along your forehead. “I have a strong immune system, and I’m not leaving you here.”
“But–”
“No.” He cuts the protest off firmly before it can even really begin. He’s never stern with you unless he means it, and you know that arguing with him isn’t worth it.
He senses the way you acquiesce, hand carefully resuming his tender caresses to your head and hair. “Any other symptoms? Coughing, throwing up, runny nose?”
“No… a little coughing.”
Xavier nods. “Do you have any medicine?”
“Soup.” You point to the abandoned mini-mart bag with the singular can of soup that sits at the entryway.
He laughs a little, a soft quiet chuckle. “Okay, not exactly the same thing.” He leans over, presses a tender kiss to the crown of your head. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“Can’t move.” You sigh pathetically, and you’re not lying. Your arms alone feel like they weigh a ton, the rest of your body protesting at even the thought of any sort of exertion at the moment.
“I can fix that.”
“Xav–” Before you can finish a gentle hand is helping you roll over onto your back. The large expanse of his palm guiding you along your back before his arms dip beneath you. One arm rests under the crook of your knees and the other against your mid-back. “I’m too heavy–”
The second protest is cut off as well, as he scoops you up off of the couch into the softest bridal carry. He holds your body to his chest as he rises to his full height, using his knees to lift you both as he stands. You whine, cheeks tinging pink with embarrassment and burying your face in his chest.
“What a ridiculous notion.” He says softly, beginning to walk towards your room. His steps don’t falter at all. “If I couldn’t even do this, what kind of hunter would I be?” He asks.
The self-conscious pout leaves you before you can stop it. “I’m heavy…”
“No, you’re not.” He responds, opening the door to your bedroom. “Not in the way you mean it.”
Another whine. “But–”
“No.” He’s firm once again, walking across the soft carpet that sits in front of your bed. He places you down on the plush bed, gentle as he releases your body. He looks into your eyes, the light in his eyes replaced with an intense, deep, blue. His soft voice dips into an almost hoarse whisper. “Don’t ever doubt your body.”
You find yourself whining softly again. “I just meant–”
He shakes his head. “I know what you meant, and I meant what I said.” He holds your hand, bringing it up to his lips to give it a soft kiss. “I love your body, and it’s doing its best even when you’re sick.” He presses kisses down your arm, gentle but insistent.
“Xavier…”
He looks from your arm to your face, watching the flush spread across your face. He kisses your forehead, a soft gasp leaving him. “You have a fever.”
“Are you sure that’s not my blush?” It’s a bit of a cheeky question, you know it’s more than likely not due to your blush, but you can’t help yourself.
“I’m positive.” Xavier says with a smile, a soft nod. “Stay here and rest, let me take care of you.”
You thread your fingers with his, holding his hand and using it to pull him down into the bed with you properly. He keeps himself from falling on top of you with his reflexes, landing to your right. He opens his arms for you, and you find yourself immediately crawling into them.
“You’ll get sick.” You try to protest.
He chuckles. “You’re nuzzling into my chest, dearest.”
You sigh. “Can’t help it.”
He runs a hand along your back, gentle and firm. “Then just let me hold you until you fall asleep.”
“And then?”
He smiles down at you, places another kiss on the crown of your head. “And then I will go get you some medicine from my apartment.”
You close your eyes, listening to the strong, steady sound of his heartbeat.
“Let that beautiful, strong body rest and heal and I will handle the rest.”