Arthur groaned when he heard his phone buzz somewhere on the ground for the seventh time in the last half hour. It was about 7 PM and he hadn't gotten out of bed since morning. Bosey couldn't care less about his master's medical condition - it was warm, its food- and waterbowls were full and it didn't have the need to go out. It was lazily napping alongside Arthur's body, warming him.

The Brit heard his cellphone buzz again. "It must be Francis or mum," he thought when he continued to lay in his warm bed. He was supposed to go to Francis' place about an hour ago to take something his friend wanted to give him. Arthur was also supposed to call his mother by now, so there was a big chance she called him herself, thinking something's wrong. "I hope neither of them thinks I abandoned them," he sighed and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy. Arthur was down with a heavy flu, he couldn't breathe well, he was constantly shivering and his head hurted like hell. After a while the buzzing stopped. "He must have given up. Oh, he's so offended now probably," the Brit thought sadly, assuming it had been Francis calling him until he heard someone knock on his door. Arthur cursed himself. He had no strength to go to the door nor did he have the voice to yell that the door was open. Being a little off-minded, with a crackling voice he told Bosey to go open the door. He fell into a short restless sleep until he was woken up by Francis.

"Hey, Arthùr, you okay?" he asked, looking mortified. Arthur opened his eyes only to wheeze and pull a blanket over his head - Francis had turned on the lights. "You don't look good, what's wrong?" the Frenchman said and pulled the blanket off his friend's head. Arthur felt so horrible, so he had no idea what was going on anymore. All he could see was dim light from his half-closed eyes, hear his friend's voice and numbly sense things going around him. Francis put his palm over Arthur's forehead, but shook his head. "It won't do, my hands are too cold," he sighed and apologized to his friend for his further actions. He gently pressed his lips against Arthur's forehead to check his temperature. He sat back up and shook his head again. "You have a high fever, mon ami, tonight we're not going anywhere." Arthur groaned and whispered with his broken voice: "I'll be fine, you go, I just need sleep." "Be reasonable, I can't leave you dying here," Francis chuckled and looked around the open bedroom. It was clear his friend hadn't left the bed since last night. He noticed Arthur was furiously shivering. "Hold on, you're going to feel better soon," he quietly said, worried of his friend. He quickly went to the bathroom to get the water running. The first thing Arthur needed was a hot bath to make him feel warmer. It would make his body temperature rise up, but to prevent his fever from getting bigger he needed to take some medicine and hold a bag full of ice on his forehead. After a few minutes the bath was steaming, full of hot water. Francis quickly called the dates he was supposed to meet tonight that he couldn't make it and scurried back to his friend. "Come on, Arthùr, you need to get warmer," he said after pulling the blanket off his shivering friend. Arthur was too weak though - he couldn't get his legs under him. With a sigh, Francis picked up Arthur and carried him to the bathroom, the Brit dozing off all the while. "Jeez, how did you get that ill?" he asked when they arrived next to the bath. "What are you doing, you fag?" Arthur dizzily asked when Francis took off his friend's clothes. Francis laughed. "You don't take a bath wearing clothes, dumbass," he said when he picked him up again and gently lowered him to the water. Arthur shuddered at the heat and shot his eyes open, panting. "What did you do, boil the water?" he asked with a little more life in him. Francis only told him he was going to change the sheets in the bed and left.

After 15 minutes Francis arrived with some of Arthur's warmer clothes and helped him out of the tub. He also helped him dry and dress himself, but Arthur was content he was now able to move on his own. A little wobbly and wearing a warm sweater, a pair of sweatpants and warm socks he made his way back to his fully made bed with extra blankets. He laid down on the fresh bed and had to admit that he felt a little bit better. Francis joined him with a big cup of warm milk with honey and a bag of ice. "Here," he said when he gave him the drink. Arthur sat up, leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed and started to drink the milk. It was horridly sweet, but he didn't mind. "I'm going to the apothecary to get you some medicine and I'll take Bosey too since he needs to go out," Francis said. "After you've finished your drink, put that icebag on your forehead," he added and set off. After finishing his drink, he crawled out of bed and got to his knees on the floor. As he suspected, his phone had been under his bed. Back between the covers, he dialed his mother's number. "There you are!" a woman's voice came from the other side of the line. "Sorry, mum, I couldn't get to you sooner," Arthur said, trying his best to sound normal, but he should had known it wouldn't work with his mother. "Darling, what's wrong? You sound awful," his mother asked, concerned. "It's nothing, mum, really." "Well, I hope you're taking care of yourself." Arthur hesitated before answering. It just occurred to him how much Francis was doing for him. He had been really worried about Arthur and the fact how much he looked after him made the Brit feel a little uneasy. "Y-yeah, don't worry. Everything'll be alright," he finally answered and they continued to chat about lesser things until he heard Francis come back. "Alright, mum, got to go. I'll see you soon, okay? Love you," he said and after having heard his mother tell him goodbye, he turned off his phone. Francis came back, his cheeks red from the cold outside, holding a small plastic bag. He tossed a bottle of orange juice to Arthur and sat down on the bed beside him. "Here," he said when giving him different medicines he had bought for every possible symptom there could be - medicine for a runny nose and a sore throat, painkillers, sleeping pills, vitamins and some capsules against fever. "I'll pay you back soon," Arthur said after having taken a pill from all of those. "No need," Francis said, looking at Arthur. "Are you hungry?" Arthur shook his head. "No," he answered, "just a bit tired." The Frenchman smiled at him. "Well, you better get some rest then," he said, standing up to go and cook something nonetheless. Arthur stopped him by grabbing his sleeve. "L-listen, Francis, I..." he stuttered a little, feeling his cheeks form red. He let go of his friend's sleeve and continued: "I must be getting another fever... Anyway, I just wanted to say... thank you. For looking after me. And that I'm sorry for ruining your Valentine's Day." Francis smiled and shook his head. "Don't be sorry, Angleterre," he only said and went to the kitchen, leaving Arthur to fall asleep. A little later he came back to check on his sleeping friend and was content to see he was looking slightly healthier than before. He thought it weird how happy he felt for being able to be there for Arthur. Gently he palmed the Brit's cheek and put his lips against his forehead again, but to check the temperature or just because he wanted to, he wasn't sure.