Cold feet pressed against cooler floorboards as Zabuza stalked through the kitchen. Afternoon light broke through the window as he set to work, sauce pan on the stove and can opener in hand.
"Z'b'za... I'm fine." Came the weak protest from Hinata, slumped over the kitchen table.
"No, you're not." Zabuza responded as he poured vegetable soup into the heating pan. Setting the heat, he moved back to the table, adjusting the blanket before grabbing a tissue, gently pressing it to Hinata's red nose.
"Blow." His tone broke no argument, waiting until Hinata did as she was told.
"Have to take Hanabi to karate..." Hinata complained as Zabuza washed his hands. Even when she could barely sit up straight from the fever her priority was still other people.
"Haku took her." Zabuza dismissed her worries as he checked the soup. Not yet up to a boil, so he made his way through the various cupboard cursing Hiashi for having such a convoluted sorting system.
"My turn to make dinner..." Her voice came out muffle as her face was pressed against the table, cool wood soothing her headache.
"Your father is out of town. Hanabi's getting takeout with Haku after practice. And I've already eaten. Stop being difficult." Zabuza said, having finally found a bowl.
"Meanie."
Zabuza snorted at the quiet retort before setting a bowl in front of her.
The smell of the soup was as comforting to her as it was discomforting to her stomach. Arms wrapped around her midsection as she waited for the nausea to pass, she relaxed as Zabuza palmed small circles into her back.
"Thank you..." She whispered before taking a hesitant spoonful. Having missed lunch for a futile attempt at resting in her bed, the soup was needed to fill the hole in her stomach.
"Thank me when your better." Zabuza said, taking a seat across from Hinata, keeping a careful distance. He had every intention of taking care of her, he simply didn't want to catch her cold.
The pragmatic side of him won out against a desire to comfort the ailing woman.
He let her eat in silence, remembering how raw she sounded when he first arrived. Her normally soft voice turned as raspy and rough as sand paper. Just because she didn't complain about a sore throat, didn't mean she wouldn't hide one from him.
"Did Kurenai assign any homework?" She croaked once finished with her soup, trying to keep the broth down as Zabuza cleaned up.
"Left on your desk." He said as Hinata watched him work. In her feverish state, she had to admire his economy of movement, jealous that her cold had left her a stumbling mess in comparison. She knew better than to protest at Zabuza doing dishes for her, in her current state she was more likely to break something and be a nuisance.
So, she let her eyes wander and, if asked she'd claim her face was flushed from the fever as she watched Zabuza's back muscles flex through his thin shirt. She was well acquainted with his broad shoulders, but she always found them fascinating to watch.
The comfort and warmth of Zabuza was sounding better by the minute. So with a boldness born from an abundance of cough syrup and sleep deprivation, she pulled herself out of the chair. Four steps was all she needed to cross from the table to the sink, wrapping her arms around his midsection as she rested her head between his shoulder blades.
"You realize, I'm elbow deep in hot water."
"Yes." She said unapologetically, taking slow breathes as she pressed her chest against his back, grateful for her boyfriend's furnace like temperature as it took the edge off her chills. He smelled of heated steel and fresh linen, two vastly different scents that melded together into something uniquely 'Zabuza'. In a different state of mind, she'd have chided herself for her forwardness, but for now she wanted to soak up the warmth.
It was with an long suffering sigh that Zabuza left the dishes in the sink to soak, not having to struggle against Hinata's weak grip as he picked her up. He'd carried gym bags that were heavier than her as she squirmed in her blanket, weakly protesting that she'd already spent her day in bed with each step he took.
He set her down as gently as he could manage. Which was dumping her onto her bed with a muffled thud as she hit the mattress. Zabuza watched as Hinata tried to work herself out of her blanket before giving up, the activity draining what little energy her cold hadn't already sapped.
"That, is what happens to bad patients." He says. He knew Hinata was sick and off balance from the fever, but his tolerance was limited when he had a job to do. Specifically making the woman before him healthy again.
"Zabuza." She speaks up from her blanket cocoon. "I'm cold..."
Zabuza nods and makes to turn from the bed. Finding another blanket or two shouldn't be hard, but he's stopped as Hinata's hand grasps a pocket of his jeans. Held in place, he backs up closer to her and turns to face her.
"I'm cold." She repeats, having mostly freed herself as she looked up at him, the message clear in her gaze.
"If I get sick, you'll have to take care of me." He warned as Hinata shuffled herself under her comforter to make room for him.
"Alright." She agreed without hesitation as Zabuza crawled over her, careful not to push his weight down on her.
"And if you throw up on me, I'm leaving." He said as Hinata's pajama clad back met his chest. She took the time to adjust herself for maximum service area, slipping Zabuza's arms around her stomach with well practiced ease.
"I won't.." She yawned out. "I love you too much to do that..."
He didn't have a response to that.
-
"Yep. It's a fever."
"I hate you." Zabuza groaned out, his already guttural voice lower than ever from his stuffed nose.
Ignoring Zabuza's heated glare, Hinata leaned in to plant her lips on his cheek, one of the few places that wasn't buried under blankets or cold packs. "I love you too. Now, stay here and I'll go put the soup on."