Written for Day Five of sicktember. Prompt: "I'm Not Sick"
As Your King
"I'm not sick," Will said, as it was absolutely obvious to himself and everyone else that he was, in fact, sick.
And it was only obvious to himself. Elizabeth knew he was sick from the moment they went to bed last night. It came to no surprise that Will was very snuggly at night. He buried his face in her neck and rested his hand on her shoulder. Last night, however, Will turned away from her, facing the wall instead of her.
When Will wasn't curled up next to her, it meant one thing and one thing only: he was sick.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Just go back to bed."
"Elizabeth. My darling, my love, my life . . ."
She turned around to where he was nodding off at the table. "William. My husband, my idiot, my-"
"'M not . . ." Will yawned.
"Right. Let's get you into bed." She leaned in close. "Your king commands it."
He gave a small grin. "Well, if my kind commands it."
"She does. So you don't get yourself killed."
"I'm not going to get myself killed."
Elizabeth felt his forehead. She gave a sharp laugh. "I beg to differ."
She guided him into bed. Will kissed her fingertips. That was more like it. He always kissed her fingertips before going to bed.
"And as your king, I command you to fall asleep."
Will looked weakly up at her.
"I'll leave you to rest." Elizabeth turned away, but he grabbed her hand.
"Don't go." He coughed again. "I may not be your king, but I command you to get into bed with me." Will kissed her neck, making her giggle.
"Fine." She joined him. "But as your king, I command you to cuddle me."
"As your humble servant, I will."
He buried his head in her neck, holding her hand. Just the way they liked it.
Some cheesy Willabeth for today. Thanks for reading!