He comes home from work and finds you curled up in bed, exhausted, sore and sweating from a fever.
He wastes no time in getting some water and aspirin into you, before picking you up princess style to carry you to the shower. After you’re clean and dried, he dresses you in one of his soft, oversized flannels and tucks you back into bed, telling you he just has to run to the store for medicine, as you start to fall asleep.
When he gets back, he wakes you enough to get some more water and medicine into you before you fall back asleep.
You wake up a few hours later. Your fever has started to go down and David brings you a tray of food. Orange juice, crackers and soup. He’d told his Dad you were sick and Julius had brought over chicken soup, family recipe, to help you back on your feet.
You’re still feeling weak and now a bit emotional at being taken care of like this. So you just lean back against propped up pillows and let David feeds you soup.
After you eat, he takes the tray back to the kitchen, comes back and changes into boxers and a t-shirt, and climbs into bed with you, cuddling you against his chest.
He turns on the tv and flips through the channels until you ask him to stop on one of your favourite shows.
You’re awake for a little while longer, lulled by the background noise of the tv and David’s steady heartbeat against your ear, and the feeling of his big hands massaging your arm and back.
Soon enough you doze off again, sleeping peacefully through the night, held safe in his arms.