Woso imagines

The flat was warm, but the heat did little to soothe the chills wracking your body. You were curled up on the couch, cocooned in a blanket, sniffling miserably as Alexia stood over you, holding a small plastic cup filled with a suspiciously thick orange liquid. Her eyes were sharp, her expression caught somewhere between concern and exasperation. She crouched down, placing the cup on the coffee table in front of you, and gently brushed some of your messy hair from your forehead.

“Amor,” she said softly, her accent making the word sound so tender you almost felt guilty. Almost. “You have to take it. Please.”

Your response was a muffled groan as you turned your head away from her, burying it into the couch cushion. Your throat ached, your nose was so congested that even breathing felt like a chore, and your fever had you feeling as though you were floating just above reality. Yet the thought of choking down the bitter medicine was somehow worse than enduring the flu.

“No,” you rasped, voice hoarse and thick. “Not taking it.”

Alexia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Cariño, you can’t get better like this. It’s just one sip.”

You peeked at her over the edge of the blanket, narrowing your eyes. “I don’t need it. I’ll get better on my own.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she crossed her arms, fixing you with a pointed look. “That is not how it works, and you know it.”

You turned your head away again, stubbornly burrowing deeper into the couch. Alexia groaned softly, her frustration clear, but when she spoke again, her tone was calm and measured. “I know it’s disgusting, but it’s only a moment. After, I’ll bring you tea. Okay? Con miel, like you like.”

You were tempted, but the thought of the medicine still made you shudder. “No.”

This time, her patience began to slip. “Amor, you are acting like a niña,” she muttered, switching to Spanish as she often did when she was flustered. “You need to—”

Before she could finish, you suddenly leapt off the couch, narrowly dodging her outstretched hands. Wrapped in your blanket like a cape, you dashed toward the hallway, wobbling slightly from the fever but determined to escape.

Alexia stood there for a moment, stunned, before she groaned again, louder this time. “En serio?” she muttered under her breath before following after you.

You were already halfway down the hallway, tugging the blanket off so you could move faster. Clad in one of her oversized Barça shirts that hung off one shoulder and a pair of underwear, you glanced back over your shoulder, catching sight of Alexia closing the distance with long, purposeful strides.

“Nope, nope, nope!” you mumbled to yourself, trying to pick up the pace, but your fevered state made you sluggish, and she was gaining on you quickly.

“Stop running!” she called after you, her voice exasperated but tinged with amusement. “You’re going to make yourself worse!”

“I’m fine!” you croaked, ducking into the bedroom and slamming the door behind you. You pressed your back against it, panting slightly as you tried to catch your breath.

From the other side of the door, you heard Alexia’s muffled voice. “This is ridiculous, amor. Open the door.”

“Never!” you shouted back, your voice cracking mid-word.

There was a long pause, and you could practically feel her annoyance through the wood. “You know I can just wait you out, right?”

You groaned, sliding down to sit on the floor with your back still pressed to the door. A moment later, you heard her sigh, followed by the soft sound of the doorknob turning.

Your heart sank as you realized you’d forgotten to lock it.

The door opened slowly, pushing you forward slightly as Alexia stepped into the room. She looked down at you, her arms crossed, her expression both stern and affectionate. “Do you really you can outrun me? Like this?”

You scrambled to your feet, darting around her before she could grab you. “Yes!” you said, though your hoarse voice and clumsy movements didn’t exactly scream confidence.

Alexia turned to follow you, shaking her head. “Eres imposible”.

For the next several minutes, the flat turned into a battlefield. You darted from room to room, using furniture and sheer determination to stay out of her grasp. Alexia, to her credit, remained calm, though you could see her frustration growing with every near miss.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your luck ran out. You’d misjudged the distance between the couch and the coffee table, and Alexia took advantage of your hesitation.

Her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and she hauled you back against her chest. “Enough,” she said firmly, her voice low in your ear.

“No!” you whined, squirming in her hold, but she was too strong, her grip unyielding.

With a sigh, Alexia sank down onto the floor, pulling you with her. She settled you between her legs, locking her arms around your waist and crossing her ankles over yours to keep you in place. “That’s it,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You struggled weakly, but the fever had sapped most of your strength. “You’re mean,” you muttered, pouting as you turned your head to glare at her.

She arched a brow, unimpressed. “I’m trying to help you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you slumped against her. “I don’t need help.”

Alexia reached for the medicine cup, which she’d set down nearby during the chase. “Open your mouth.”

“No.”

“Cariño,” she said warningly, her tone firm.

You glared at her stubbornly, your lips pressed into a tight line.

She sighed again, shaking her head. “Do I need to hold your nose?”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head. “You wouldn’t.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Try me.”

Realizing you were out of options, you let out a dramatic groan before opening your mouth reluctantly. She quickly tipped the medicine onto your tongue, her other hand holding the back of your head to keep you steady.

You grimaced as the bitter liquid slid down your throat, shuddering in disgust as you swallowed. “Ugh,” you coughed, your voice thick with congestion. “That’s awful.”

Alexia set the cup aside, loosening her hold on you but keeping her arms around your waist. “I know,” she said softly, her hand brushing some of your hair back. “But it will help.”

You sniffled wetly, a deep cough shaking your chest as you pulled away from her. “You’re the worst,” you mumbled, though there was no real heat behind the words.

Alexia just smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Te amo también, mi amor.”

Still pouting, you climbed to your feet, wobbling slightly as you turned toward the bedroom. “I’m going to bed,” you announced, your voice still hoarse.

Alexia watched you go, her expression a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “Good,” she called after you. “And I’ll be right there to make sure you don’t get up again.”

You didn’t respond, too busy muttering to yourself as you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Alexia shaking her head with a quiet laugh as she rises to her feet to follow you.

The bedroom was dark and silent save for the muffled sounds of your congested breathing. You’d buried yourself completely under the covers, cocooned tightly as if blocking out the world—or more specifically, Alexia. She leaned in the doorway for a moment, watching the lump of blankets that was you before she let out a quiet sigh.

“Amor,” she called softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “You can’t hide forever.”

The lump under the blankets shifted, and she heard a muffled sniffle, followed by a grumble of protest.

“Come on,” she coaxed, crouching down beside the bed. Her fingers found the edge of the covers, and she tugged gently. “Déjame verte. Let me see you.”

“No,” you rasped, your voice muffled by the layers of fabric and congestion.

Alexia rolled her eyes, her lips quirking in affectionate amusement. “You’re so dramatic.” She tugged at the blankets again, but you held them tightly around you, refusing to budge.

“Cariño,” she tried again, her tone firmer now. “Let me in.”

When you didn’t respond, she sighed, her hands pausing on the covers. “Está bien,” she said, almost to herself. “If you won’t let me in, I’ll have to come in myself.”

Before you could protest, Alexia wriggled her way beneath the covers. The space was stiflingly warm, the air thick and heavy from both your fever and the cocoon of blankets. You were curled up tightly on your side, facing away from her, your shoulders tense as you stubbornly ignored her presence.

“Dios mío,” Alexia muttered under her breath, wiping at her forehead dramatically. “Hace calor aquí.”

“Then leave,” you grumbled, your voice hoarse.

She ignored your petulant tone, scooting closer until her chest was pressed against your back. Her arms wrapped around you, tugging you gently into her embrace. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t relax either, your body still stiff in her hold.

“You’re sweaty,” she teased, her voice low and teasing near your ear.

You huffed but didn’t reply, shifting slightly as if trying to create distance between you. Alexia tightened her hold, her lips brushing against the back of your head in a fleeting kiss.

“Cariño,” she murmured, her tone softening. “Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” you mumbled, though the petulant edge in your voice said otherwise.

“Sí, you are,” she replied, her hand slipping under the hem of your oversized shirt. Her palm was warm against your bare, clammy skin as she rested it on your side.

You stilled at her touch, your breath hitching slightly when her fingers began to move. They trailed lightly across your side, her nails grazing your skin just enough to tickle.

“Alexia,” you warned, squirming slightly.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of mock innocence. Her fingers continued their playful assault, trailing over the sensitive skin just below your ribs.

“Stop,” you said, trying to twist away from her.

“Hmm… no,” she replied, a small laugh escaping her. “You deserve this por hacerme correr detrás de ti.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, though you quickly tried to hide it. “You’re evil,” you muttered, your voice still tinged with congestion.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her fingers pausing their tickling to rest gently on your side. “But you still love me.”

You didn’t respond, your head ducking slightly as you tried to bury your face in the pillow. Alexia chuckled softly, her hand sliding up to rest just beneath your ribs.

“Say it,” she teased, pressing another kiss to the back of your head.

“No,” you replied stubbornly.

“Cariño,” she said, her voice dipping into that low, affectionate tone that always made your resolve crumble.

You sighed, your shoulders finally relaxing as you melted into her embrace. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice soft and muffled.

“Te quiero también,” she replied, her lips brushing against the back of your neck.

You didn’t say anything else, your pout finally dissipating as Alexia’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your side. The warmth of her body against yours and the steady rhythm of her breathing began to lull you into a hazy state of comfort.