Okay, boys and girls. I hope someone is actually reading this. Can we just stop reposting Sylvia Plath and Pablo Neruda? Can we find something fresh? (Me too, me too) Most quotes nowadays I’ve seen 5 years ago. Are we dead???
You groaned and rolled over, waking up. Immediately you felt blood rush to your head and a pounding ache come over you.
“Ough,” you groaned out loud, surveying your surroundings. You were sprawled on your bed with your face and hair completely meshed with the pillow, leaving you feeling gross and a mess.
Your head hurt, and you had some faint nausea boiling in your stomach.
“Oh hey, you. Decided to wake up,” a sweet voice said, and you turned over to see Millie, your girlfriend, laying on her side.
She looked pretty as always, but it was obvious she hadn’t gotten out of bed yet this morning.
She touched your cheek with freezing fingers, and shook her head.
“Still warm.”
“Am I sick?” You croaked out. She brushed a strand of hair away from your sweaty face.
“Yes. You don’t remember?” Her brow creased.
You closed your eyes, desperate to find some coolness in the hot haze that was your mind.
“Maybe this is more serious than I thought,” she said to herself, shuffling to get her phone off the nightstand.
“No, no,” you said, not okay wanting her to call anyone. “I remember.”
Even though your eyelids were still closed, you could imagine Millie’s brow unpuckering, and her scrunched face coming to rest.
“I feel like shit,” you said flat-out. She laughed, a breathy one, still unsure if you were totally okay, but a laugh, and you opened one eye to catch a glimpse of it.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying my suffering,” you cracked a little grin.
“Well thank god you feel well enough to poke fun,” she smiled.
“Want some water?” Her hand trailed over to the cup on the nightstand.
“Yes please,” you said gratefully, feeling as if you were dying of thirst now that Mills has brought it up.
She held the glass up to your lips and you drank from it, relishing in the temporary bliss of cold water being introduced to your system.
She pulled it away from you after you had drunk nearly all of it.
“What do you think I have?” You said, adjusting yourself so you were sitting more upright.
“I’m not really sure. Maybe the flu? Or maybe covid. That would suck.”
“I have my vaccine for both,” you sighed. (A/n this is a post pandemic fic hehehe)
“Maybe it’s just a virus then.” She said sympathetically, gazing at you lovingly.
“Yeah maybe.”
She grinned and moved so that she was closer to you, her head resting a mere inch or two away from your face. She draped her arm over your body loosely, and smirked, leaning in to press a kiss against your warm lips.
As she pulled away, you asked in a raspy voice, “Baby, aren’t you going to get sick if you kiss me?”
She shrugged, her face making an absolutely adorable expression.
“Who cares?”
“I d-,” you started to say, but were cut off by Millie leaning in for another kiss. You tried to pull away, feeling guilty about getting her sick, but she moved one of her hands so it was pressed into the middle of your back and the other against the back of your neck, limiting your options for not kissing her.
Even though you never kissed back, she was having a one-sided make out with you and you were honestly kind of annoyed.
“Millie,” you said, but it was extremely muffled through her suffocating embrace.
“Millie!” You tried again, and this time she pulled away, smirking. “What’s wrong, hon? Can’t handle the sugar lips?”
You rolled your eyes. “No...but I’m sick. I don’t want you to get sick too.”
“Well,” she looked up to the ceiling in thought, “If you were going to give me your virus, or whatever is, I think you’d already have given it to me. So, no worries, right?”
You groaned, “No that’s not what I meant...“ as she leaned in for another kiss, this time pecking the tip of your nose.
“Don’t worry,” she smiled. “I know you’ll take care of me if I get symptoms,” and she kissed you again.
“Millie,” you whined, and she propped her head up on an elbow.
“Look. I don’t care if I get sick. Can’t we just forget everything and can’t I just kiss youuu??” She dragged out the last part, sticking out her bottom lip and giving you those beautiful brown puppy eyes.
“Fine…” you groaned, “But!” You quickly added as her eyes lit up, moving in to kiss you once more.
“I’m not taking care of you if you get sick. I was sick first, so you take care of me.”
“Deal,” she said instantly and this time it was you who leaned in, catching her lips. You pulled away, and she whined in protest.
not to make the same post every other month but. i need a west end great comet it’s not even a want at this point i physically need to see this show performed live
Verzettelung im Dienst, Müdigkeit und Sinnfrage. Weniger Job wär schön, mehr Studium nötig. Schon das Erledigen der kleineren Hausaufgaben kostet momentan zuviel Energie, um an die größeren überhaupt zu denken.
Wollen wir hoffen, das bleibt eine Post-Corona-Momentaufnahme und wird nicht zum Dauerzustand.
