hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄
my boyfriend!!!!!!!
“I need to go in today.”
You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.
You concede. “Nevermind.”
“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.
“It’s fine.”
“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”
“But-“
“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”
You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“I know.”
He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.
“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.
“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”
“Yes.” You whisper.
Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.
“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”
“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.
“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”
You turn away from him,
“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”
You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”
He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”
You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?
“It’s not.”
He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”
“I just love you.”
“You’re crying because you love me?”
“I don’t feel good.” You correct.
“You don’t feel good?”
“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”
He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”
“But you never do.” You wallow.
“Have you ever seen me cry?”
“Once.”
“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”
“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.
“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”
“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”
“I’m not sure.”
You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”
“Scar?”
“She’s smart.”
“I think she’s Jewish.”
“So?”
“Different book, my love.”
“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”
Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”
“We always do.”
Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”
“Get on track.”
“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”
You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”
“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.
“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”
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