Notes: I haven't posted anything recently...So I decided to post this very tiny little blurb that I thought was sort of cute.

60% Chance of Sickness

Of all the times, one could be sick… Today was just not the day.

She had told him numerous times, she could not get sick, and yet here she was, sick.

The things she hated about being sick was the bed life. One could do nothing while in bed, lying helpless, waiting on everything and everyone to fetch simple things for you. Another thing was the sick feeling. The body felt sick, the mind wandered, breath hitched… She hated the feeling of being powerless.

Yet through all her rants about sickness, he stood by her side listening to it all, nodding, smiling, acting intrigued when he really didn't want to hear another word. She continued to bypass the social boundaries of talking, now wandering away from chatterbox and slipping into annoying.

But she loved that about him. The way he knew exactly what she was going to say, and therefore prepare himself for a reply. The way he showed how much he loved her by catching her when she fell or finding a book she hadn't read. He rarely said the words, "I love you" but when he did, it made the moment all the more special.

His kisses were soft, his touches were slow, and above all, he loved her with all his heart. If only she knew how special she was to him…

"Try sleeping. It'll help, I promise," He spoke softly. She reassured him that her healing powers were more than enough, but he rejected them once again.

"Really, trust me, some sleep is all you need," He said with a smile. Truth be told, she didn't like sleeping either. It left one's body vulnerable and wasted time when more pressing matters were at hand. Sleep was for humans.

"Just lay down, I'll get you the remote and a nice cup of hot tea—no, don't use your powers, I'll get it," He flashed that trademark toothy grin of his and went to fetch the things he mentioned. She liked how he didn't want to bring her a book, he would rather destroy her brain by bringing her the remote. (Aside the fact pushing the power button on the t.v. with her powers would be a lot faster.) He knew her too well. Television bored her more than video games which bored her more than his pointless movies which were more boring than reading an uninteresting book she had already finished. She forced down the urge to turn the screen on herself and awaited his re-entrance.

He came shortly carrying the small device followed by a trail of steam out of a wonderfully smelling mug of tea. A pinch of lemon. She liked that. He smiled at his accomplishment of making her happy no matter what state of health she may have been in. She clicked through the channels, bored. Soon she was asleep, the mug empty, the room silent.

He would not leave the room tonight. Or the next night either, depending on whether she was still sick or not. He liked it when she woke up to find him by her side. And he knew she liked it too.