~eighteen~

                                    

                                          
"I'm not sick," I insisted.
                          
"Yes you are angel, c'mon back in bed you go," George responded, pulling back the covers.
                          
This winter break was supposed to be a hectic two weeks with the Weasley's at the burrow, but instead, I'm going to be confined to George's bed.
                          
"But I'm not sick, it's just allergies!"
                          
"Allergies in the middle of winter," he raised his eyebrow.
                          
"Yes, the snow amplifies the pollen."
                          
"You're making less and less sense love," George says calmly.
                          
"I'm making perfect sense, now let's go eat breakfast."
                          
"If you really insist, come on, but afterwards your going right back to bed." He gives in, reaching out to take my hand.
                          
I am definitely not sick. If I was sick how was I gonna play snowball quidditch? Or watch Fred stuff snow down Percy's shirt? Or slap Fred's hand away from trying to spike the eggnog? Or pretend I know what Charlie's on about when he rambles about dragons? Or..or..what was I just thinking about? 
                          
I quickly walked forward to grab my boyfriend's hand, but all of a sudden I felt a ringing in my ears. My vision started to slowly cloud. I was falling, I think George was saying something but all I heard was a muffled noise. 
                          
(Throw back to when my math teacher had to basically carry me to the nurse's office because I fainted :D)
                          
I found myself surrounded by blankets and I felt a cool towel on my forehead. I slowly opened my eyes and saw someone looking right at me. George had this very concerned look on his face as he was stroking my hand.
                          
"Oh thank Godric you're awake, you really gave me a scare there. Are you alright?" He said quickly in one breath.
                          
I nodded and attempted to sit up, but my body didn't seem to let me.
                          
"Just lay down darling, mum's making you some soup"
                          
"I'm not sick," I tried to insist again, but my voice came barely above a whisper.
                          
"I know you don't want to be, but just let me take care of you, yeah?" He said softly. 
                          
I felt to weak to argue more on the subject, so I just nodded my head and closed my eyes again.
                          
When I opened my eyes back up, George was still in front of me, sitting on the edge of the bed, but now with a bowl of soup in his hands. 
                          
"I got mum to make your favorite," he says meekly.
                          
I smiled and he helped me prop myself up a bit to eat. I reached out to grab the bowl but he kept it out of my reach. I frowned.
                          
"The bowl's hot," George said in response to my grimace. 
                          
"I can handle it," I mumbled
                          
He just smiled softly in response. He stirred the bowl of hot soup a few times before taking out a spoonfull and lightly blowing on it. He lifted it up to my mouth and after a small glare thrown his way, I swallowed the soup.
                          
We went on like this for some time until the bowl was empty and I'd almost run out of begrudging looks to give him. 
                          
George brushed my hair out of my face and gave me a quick peck on the forehead.
                          
"Merlin love you're burning up," he readjusted myself and the pillow so I was laying down again. "Get some rest, I'll be right here if you need me." He backed up into a chair he had apparently stolen from the dining room and brought up next to his bed.
                          
I closed my eyes for a few moments and tried to drift back to sleep, but I felt lonely. I know he was only a few feet away, but to was too far. I slightly sat up and tried to reach for him. He quickly looked back up at me.
                          
"What do you need angel?"
                          
"...cuddles.." I said quietly.
                          
"All you need is to ask, I'm always more than happy to give you cuddles." He smiled and lifted the blankets allowing him to crawl in next to me.
                          
George adjusted the pillows and tugged me closer to him. He pressed my face into his chest and tightly put his arms around me before letting out a content sigh and resting his chin on my head.
                          
"Can't.. breathe," I said into his chest.
                          
"Oh, right, sorry dear," He responded apologetically and held me a little less tight. Still tighter than I would think necessary, but atleast my lungs were okay now.
                          
After a few moments he softly kissed the top of my head and whispered a quiet "I love you."
                          
"I love you, Georgie," I mumbled before quickly slipping into a deep slumber.