You buried your head in the covers and coughed for the millionth time. It was a cough that resonated throughout your entire body, and left your chest throbbing. Ugh, why did I have to come down with bronchitis? It was the week before finals, and you were doing your damnedest to recover before then. Laying in bed, surrounded by tissues and cough drop wrappers, your handy dandy inhaler in hand… watching ‘Orange is the New Black’ on Netflix. This was definitely the life. Missing work, not making any money, this was what every young woman in America dreamed of. You didn’t even have a voice to complain with, the coughing had ruined your throat. Every time you took a breath, it felt like a cat was using its claws to rip your trachea into shreds. While you were in the midst of a coughing fit, your phone started ringing. You picked it up and looked at the caller ID. Steve <3, it read. You swiped right to answer it, and held the phone up to your ear.
“Hello?” you rasped.
“(Y/N)? What’s going on? You sound like you swallowed a bag of rocks.”
You could hear the concern in his voice, and you smiled softly. “I’m fine,” you whispered, putting a hand to your neck, trying to revive the vocal chords. “Just a little sick, that’s all.”
“What?! How long have you been like this?”
You could picture his brows furrowing, and his rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Haha, I’m fine. Don’t worry, babe. I’m okay.”
“Let me see you… I’m FaceTiming you right now.”
You felt your phone buzz, and looked at the screen. Steve <3 wants to FaceTime, it read. You grinned, and accepted the call.
“Steve, I look terrible.” You buried your face in the pillow, and muffled another coughing fit. “Don’t look at me.”
His bright blue eyes sparkled, even over the shitty WiFi connection you had in your ratty apartment. “Don’t be ridiculous, you look beautiful. How you feeling?”
You hacked a few more coughs out of your chest, and looked up at your phone. “Aw, you’re so sweet. I’m okay. Went to the doctor’s and got an inhaler today.”
Steve furrowed his brow, a face you’d seen him make a hundred times. “That’s good. Are you eating okay? Sleeping okay?”
You groaned. You’d pretty much lived off of crackers and Slim Jims since you’d gotten sick. “Uh, yeah. Been eating great. Like, super nutritious..ly.”
“I’m coming over.”
He’d hung up before you could even answer. You sighed, sat up, and attempted to pretty yourself up before he got there. You attempted to do something with your hair, and did some pinching of your cheeks to put some color in them, but even you couldn’t work magic. After about 20 minutes, you heard the telltale rumble of Steve’s motorcycle. You slipped out of your bed, into your pink fluffy slippers, and practically skipped down the stairs to open the door and let him in.
“Hi,” you croaked, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. He smiled down at you, and bent down to kiss your forehead.
“Hi, baby,” he grinned. He began bending down to kiss you on the lips, but you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“No, no you probably shouldn’t do that. You’ll get sick…” your voice dropped away. “Oh. Right. You don’t… get sick… do you?”
Steve chuckled, and gently hooked a finger under your chin. When his soft, beautifully plush lips –that were surprisingly never chapped – touched yours, you felt like your bronchitis disappeared for a split second. And then, the disgustingly annoying cough came back, and you backed away from Steve as you placed a hand on your chest, trying to recover.
“Oh, hey, hey, sweetheart, just take a breath,” Steve’s concerned voice came through your ringing ears. “I got you, I got you.” He slipped his arms around you, and lifted you up.
“Wow, I have no idea what I would do without my big, strong, captain to carry me around,” you groaned sarcastically. “Seriously, Steve, I can walk!”
“I know, I know,” he laughed. “I just like doing it. Let’s get you into bed!” He ran up the stairs, while you bounced up and down in his arms, giggling like a crazy woman.
You slipped your arms from around his neck as he put you on his bed.
“Wait here,” Steve said, brushing his lips against your forehead again. “I brought you something.”
You crossed your arms gleefully and waited for him to come back up the stairs. He quickly came bounding back into your bedroom, two white paper bags in his hands. He sat on your bed, and placed the bags on your bedside table.
“Surprise!” He grinned, and pulled a maple bourbon bacon donut from one bag, and a container of soup from the other. “I got your favorites. This donut, you already know what it is, heh, but the soup… “
A small smile inched across your face. “Chicken and wild rice?”
“Yes ma’am!” Steve proudly whipped out a spoon, and cracked open the lid of the soup container. “Want some now?”
You nodded, and leaned forward as he fed you a bite. You wrapped your fingers over his, and took the spoon from him. “Steve, I love you, but I can feed myself. Thank you for bringing me treats, my love.”
Steve leaned forward, and kissed you again. “You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do?”
You felt yourself blush, and reached to your left to put the soup down on your bedside table. “You can do one more thing for me.”
Steve leaned forward and propped himself up on his elbows. “Anything, babydoll.”
You slipped an arm around his very taught bicep, and pulled him down to the bed with you. “Stay with me?”
Steve laughed again, and tucked your head under his chin, wrapping himself around you. “Of course. I’ll stay until you feel a hundred percent.”
You sighed, and closed your eyes. “I love you, Steve.”
He tucked a small kiss behind your ear. “I love you too. So much.”
You smiled. You knew that you were where you belonged. Safe, in Steve’s arms. The two of you quickly fell asleep, tangled up in each other.