If you’re taking prompts
“You’re really warm.” and
“Come back to bed. Please” for jily pls??
I am laughing at for jily like I'm capable of writing for anything else. I promise you, even if it is about two unrelated characters, I'll find a way to make it about jily
Also finally put the drabbles on ao3 as promised so you can read this there as well
Fretting over Lily Evans was nothing new for James, but this time might’ve put him to his early grave after all.
He touches her forehead discreetly, trying not to disturb her sleep. She went in and out of her slumber all night, giving him a scare half the time with her nonsensical mumblings. He doesn’t recall when exactly he fell asleep too, not long ago according to the rising sun, but that’s how he finds himself next to her now.
Blinking his eyes woozily, he gives himself permission for a moment of bliss before jumping into action, pretending they are lying side by side not because she is burning like a furnace, but like he always wakes up next to Lily, this hair tickling his shoulder not unusual.
He can only guess what prompted her to call him last night. A bitter part of him thinks it’s because she knew he would come running, no questions asked. It’s hard to ignore that part when that was exactly what he did, probably before he even hung up the phone. There is, of course, always the chance that it was the side effect of her running fever. One should not underestimate it, he learned that firsthand all through the night.
The pretense falls apart when he feels Lily’s skin, panic rising inside him all over again. He has spent the whole night trying to make sure her temperature didn’t pass 40 degrees, hand ready over his phone for the minute it did. It feels like it has risen again, her cheeks flaming bright to prove his insight right.
“Aren’t you gonna kiss my forehead?”
She startles him, with the question or her half open eyes smiling dozily at him, he doesn’t know.
“Why would I take advantage of the ill, Evans?”
Her smile gets softer, fonder. “That’s how my mom used to take my temperature.”
He’s never been able to say no to that smile.
She closes her eyes with the kiss, looking content and peaceful, not at all like the bedridden patient she is supposed to be. He lingers one second longer than necessary.
He has forgotten the purpose of the act until she looks at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.
“You’re really warm.”
She doesn’t care for his furrowed brows or less than satisfactory explanation when she snuggles into him, purring, “Thank you, so are you.”
“That was not a compliment, Evans.” He tries to hide the fact his breath hitches when she burrows her face in his neck. “That means I am doing something very, very wrong. Are you sure you don’t want me to call anybody else?”
Her hold on him tightens even further if possible. She sounds like a petulant child when she whines her refusal. He can imagine, and feel, her pout.
He tries to untangle himself from her, but she looks so offended by his actions that he feels the need to explain himself. “I need to wet these rags again, and you need to eat some breakfast so you can take your antipyretics.”
She opens her mouth to say something, another refusal going by her displeased expression, but he jumps from the bed before she can tempt her more.
He goes to the bathroom first, thinking maybe some cool water would do him good too. She is already asleep by the time he comes back, hand reaching out to where he once laid on the bed. He places the damp clothes on her forehead with a grin, letting it take over his face while she is not able to see it. The pills he found when he rummaged through her medicine cabinet are put on her nightstand, waiting for his arrival with some food.
Preparing some eggs and toast helps him gather himself a little more, the habitual routine putting his brain on autopilot. The morning feels like something out of James’ dreams with Lily cuddling him in the bed and him making her breakfast, he finds it necessary to remind himself the true nature of the situation as he fills a glass of water for her.
She is awake when he enters the room, following his motions silently as he puts the plate on her side too. He is just about to sit on the chair by her bedside when she stops him with a hand on his arm.
“I promise I’ll eat something in a minute. Can you just… come back to bed? Please?”
His will already weakened since he woke up, he finds that it crumbles completely when he hears her voice so weak, tone so pleading. He lays down on his previous place without saying anything, her head finding his shoulder immediately.
A small hand traces patterns on his chest, nails tickling the heart underneath with every swoop. They could probably live in that relaxed bubble forever if the question nagging inside him just hadn’t popped out unexpectedly.
“Why did you call me yesterday, Lily?”
The finger drawing flowers, stars, and initials never stops its movement. “Because I had a high fever, and I didn’t want to go to the ER.”
“No. I mean, why did you call me?”
He holds his breath in anticipation of her answer, and she stills momentarily too before shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to be with you.” Her voice sounds so small. “I always want to be with you, you know that.”
There is relief ballooning inside him with her words, mixed with something he dares not name. He hums softly as a response, neither denying nor confirming her assumption.
“We can stay in bed for one more minute, then I’m gonna make you eat that breakfast, Evans.”
“Two, because you just took advantage of a sick person’s honesty and I deserve it.”
“Deal.”
He’ll let her pretend like he won’t do anything she asks for. They both know it’s a lie anyway.