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A movie is playing on the tv, but you honestly couldn’t begin to describe the plot if you tried. You haven’t been paying attention from the moment you curled up in Yelena’s lap, tucked warmly into a soft, fuzzy blanket. She has her feet propped up on the coffee table in front of the couch and one of her hands in your hair, gently scratching at your scalp and combing through the tangles. Her touch is incredibly soothing, especially since you’ve had an awful headache all day. All you want to do for the next century is stay here in your girlfriend’s lap.
Yelena makes occasional commentary on the action flick, snorting at how unrealistic the fight scenes are. You hum along, agreeing mindlessly, too relaxed by her hand in your hair to really pay attention.
But as Yelena’s fingers drift to start playing with the soft baby hairs on your forehead, her strokes pause. You make an unhappy grumble, squinting up at her to see why she stopped. There’s a tiny crease between her eyebrows as she pushes your hair away from your face so she can see you better.
“Why are you all sweaty?” she frowns. “Here, take this blanket off, you’re overheating.”
She tries to pull the blanket off you, but you clutch it tighter, curling up further into it. “Noo, Lena, I’m cold,” you whine, swatting her hands away. “‘M not sweaty.”
“You are. Come here, babe,” Yelena says, pausing the movie and easily lifting you so you’re sitting upright on the couch. Her soft green eyes are narrowed as she studies your face, a soft hand cupping your jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you mumble grumpily, even though your head is pounding at the change in position and you feel slightly dizzy. You just want to lay down again and have her stroke your hair, not be assessed by her widow-trained gaze.
“Don’t lie to me,” Yelena tsks, giving you a no-nonsense look and resting the back of her hand against your forehead. “You’re warm.”
“From the blanket.” You try to sound sure, but your voice comes out a little hesitant.
“From your fever,” Yelena counters, leaning in and gently pressing a kiss between your eyebrows. “Were you planning on telling me about this, moya dorogaya? Or were you going to just wilt away in my lap all evening?”
You sigh, flopping down into her lap again and pulling the blanket back over yourself with a grumble. “I don’t have a fever. I’m fine. Let me wilt.”
Yelena lets out a low chuckle, softly stroking your blanket-covered shoulder. “Sick and grumpy, huh? Got my work cut out for me, I guess. I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”
You make a noise of protest, but it doesn’t stop her from gently maneuvering herself out from under you. She tucks you back in the blanket and kisses your hair, before heading out of the room. You curl in tighter to yourself while you wait for her to come back, shivering a little. Now that you’re not half-asleep, you’re beginning to realize how horrible you really feel. Your entire body aches, you’re shaking with chills, and your nose is getting stuffed.
Your girlfriend returns quickly with a thermometer and a bottle of cold medicine, crouching down in front of you.
“Say ‘ahh’,” she smirks, holding out the thermometer. Her eyes are sparkling with barely concealed amusement.
“Okay, you are enjoying this way too much,” you complain with a huff, but you take the device and stick it under your tongue. “Happy?” you mumble around it, crossing your arms.
Yelena’s gaze softens and she smooths the blanket over your shoulder, then kisses your forehead. “No, zvezdochka, I’m not happy,” she says more seriously this time, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I hate it when you’re sick, baby. It makes me worry.”
Your heart warms at the gentleness in your girlfriend’s voice, and your grumpy mood drops away. “I’m okay,” you murmur, reaching for her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t know I had a fever. I’ve just had a headache for most of the afternoon and felt a little achy.”
Yelena climbs back onto the couch next to you and immediately lifts you into her lap as easily as if you weigh nothing. She holds you close, nuzzling her nose into your hair. “You’re fine, baby. You don’t apologize for being sick. Just let me take care of you, okay?”
You relax into her warm arms, resting your head on her toned shoulder. “Do I have to take the medicine though?” you pout, peeking up at her.
She laughs softly, pressing her lips to the top of your head. “Yep. But I’ll give you plenty of kisses after, deal?”
You sigh, letting her tug the blanket back over you protectively. “Deal.”
You know Yelena’s going to be fussing over you for the rest of the day, and although you grumble about it, you secretly love it.
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zvezdochka - little star; moya dorogaya - my darling