Author's note: In celebration of it being the time of year where people get sick (No, seriously. Everyone I know, including myself, is sick.) I decided to write a drabble where Hime finally gets sick. Dedicated to Spice – I hope this makes you feel better!
Also, in case ya'll have been keeping track, I'm having some difficulties updating Thinking of You. The chapter has been putting up quite the fight, but one of these days I'll get it to submit! :D So keep your eyes peeled for an update for that. And yes, I said "ya'll".
Disclaimer: Bleach and all characters, etc. belong to Tite Kubo. All rights reserved.
Drabble IV: Fever
"Here. Drink this."
"I told you, I don't need any medicine. I'm perfectly healthy."
"Hime, you have a fever," said Ichigo pointedly as he stared at his stubborn wife.
"I'm just a little flushed," retorted Orihime. Patting his arm gently, she smiled brightly at him. "Don't worry so much. You know that I don't get sick."
Ichigo watched helplessly as Orihime pushed the covers away from herself and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Standing up, she swung her arms around, sighing contently as her muscles loosened. She had been cooped up in the house all day, no thanks to Ichigo. Turning around to face him, she grinned and pumped her fist into the air.
"See? You don't need to worry! I'm as healthy as an elephant!"
Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over her and she held a hand to her forehead, trying to will it away. A small gasp escaped her as a pair of strong arms steadied her, her body pressed tightly against Ichigo's. Her cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red as she rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut as the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat reached her ears.
"See? I told you. You need to stay in bed," he murmured into her hair.
"But Ichigo, I –" She squealed in surprise when she was swept off her feet and into Ichigo's arms.
"No buts. You're going to rest, even if it means I have to tie you to the damn bed."
"Oh, Ichigo. You're so naughty," giggled Orihime as she playfully slapped his chest.
"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Averting his gaze, Ichigo felt his cheeks grow warm and his brows furrowed. Placing his giggling bundle onto the bed, he knelt over her, his amber eyes boring into her gray ones. "You stay put or I might just have to punish you."
Eyes twinkling mischievously, Orihime smiled coyly at him. "And how would you punish me?"
"I'll throw away all of the wasabi and red bean paste in the house." He grinned at her horrified look, amused at how easy it was to get her to listen to him. "Now stay in bed. Got it?"
"Yes sir!" Laughing, Orihime mockingly saluted him, which Ichigo merely rolled his eyes at.
"Good." Leaning down, Ichigo teasingly brushed his lips over hers. Pulling away, he smiled gently down at her and pushed himself up from the mattress. Without thinking, Orihime reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Blinking, Ichigo glanced at his arm and then at his wife, who was looking rather sheepish.
"Ano… Do you think you could stay with me a while longer?"
Chuckling, Ichigo pulled the covers back and scooted onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Orihime's waist. Nuzzling her hair, he planted a soft kiss just below her earlobe. Sighing contently, Orihime scooted closer to Ichigo, relishing the safety she felt by simply having his arms around her.
Soon, both of them had slipped into a dreamless slumber – although Orihime swore she distinctly heard her husband snoring somewhere in the distance.