*Beta'd by sendtherain
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3. I'm Sick
"No, no, no, no, NO!" I insist, huddled in bed, a burning fever, chills, and the urge to throw up every 20 minutes or so. "You are not kissing me. You are not."
He chuckles as he comes towards me with soup and crackers, a glass of 7up on the tray I use when I want to surprise him with breakfast in bed.
"What makes you think I'm going to kiss you?" he teases, and I'm a little put off.
He's the Flash. He has super healing. Can't he afford me one kiss amidst the misery that is this accursed flu?
I realize how ridiculous I'm being, and then I sense his gaze looking down at me adoringly as he sits on the side of the bed. My nose is scrunched and my lips are pursed, and I look disgusting, but he doesn't see that, and it makes me love him even more.
"What?" I demand, trying not to melt under his deep, green eyes and long lashes.
"You're cute," he says, and it sounds so sincere when he says it that I can't help but believe it.
"I'm sick," I say, not convincing him at all that I didn't like his compliment.
He leans forward and kisses my chapped lips before I can stop them.
"You taste sick," he says, chuckling a little when I frown. He lifts a spoonful of chicken noodle soup up and moves it towards my mouth. I shake my head.
"I'll throw it up," I say, not wanting to heave the contents on both our laps.
"Maybe you won't," he says and kisses me again without comment.
I down three spoonfuls before I have to puke. I get to the bathroom in time – thankfully – and then let him tuck me back in bed.
"We'll try again in an hour," he says, and kisses the side of my face.
I nod complacently, content somehow with him beside me. I reach for his hand, and he understands.
He stays put and whisper-sings his proposal song to me until I fall asleep.
I love this man with all my heart and soul.
