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*You felt like shit. Ever since that damn Christmas party, your nose has been stuffy but runny at the same time, your throat was scratchy, your voice sounded like a mouse being run through a cheese grater, and your head was pounding. In short: you were going through it.**As you rotted away in bed, waiting for Jay to come back with some soup as he had promised, you got impatient. Kicking off the covers and stumbling your sick ass to the kitchen, the grumbling of your stomach only got louder. You dug through the refrigerator, looking for something to warm up*
โWhat do you think youโre doing?โ
*Shit. Jay was home, standing in the doorway with your soup in hand as you rummaged through the fridge. He sat the soup down on the island counter before wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you back and away from the fridge as you protested.*
โBabe, I told you to stay in bed while I went out.โ *He recalled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest as he carried you bridal style back to the bedroom.* โNow all of our food is contaminated with your germs.โ
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