How do you think Harry would be if you were sick. Not the cute sick, but the coughing a lung up, snotting all over yourself sick?
I think he’d be a dear anyways.
We’ve all had our sick days in which we sound like a dying animal and we feel and look gross with fever and we cry cause we’re just so ill. He’d be a dear, basically moving into your place for as long as you’re sick and too tired to fend for yourself. Making you his mum’s chicken soup, making sure your fridge is stocked with your favourite things for you to enjoy when you can taste again, and always careful and caring, taking your temperature “You’re burnin’, pet” His eyes furrowed in worry. “Would yeh like some more soup?” But you’re not hungry and quite frankly you’re tired of soup, no matter how delicious is is. All you want is a cuddle. Having him there tend for you is melting your heart, but you know he shouldn’t be getting any closer than he is, he can’t get sick.
It’s killing him as well, to not be able to kiss you proper and sleeping on the floor next to you instead of on your bed spooning you. But you’d made him promise to keep a distance, at least until you’re not that ill.
Your coughs would wake him up in the middle of the night, cold and shivering and he’d run to fix the A/C so that it’s not as cold in your room as well. You know he gets hot fast, so you’re apologising profusely when you see him laying on the floor, sheets off and shirtless so he’s not as hot. “I’m sorry” you say through a runny nose, wiping away snot and sneezing almost immediately. The fever and coughing not letting you fall back asleep. “There’s nothing t’be sorreh fo’ ” He smiles at you. He gets up once again and you’re confused. He comes over and sits at the edge of your bed, fingers moving away stray hairs off your face “Let me make yeh a brew. T’help yeh sleep, yeah?” all you can do is smile at this sunshine life has placed in your way. “Thanks” you say, though it sounds more like “fanks” due to your clogged up nostrils. And Harry breaks the distance rule, by coming to drop a kiss on your forehead. “Harryyy” you whine. “I know, i know. I’ll be right back, love” he sighs and walks off to make you a cuppa. When he comes back, he moves his makeshift bed closer, so you can at least hold hands through the night. All he knows is the moment you look a bit better, he’s kissing you till he runs out of breath.