{ᴵⁿ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁽ʸ/ᴺ⁾ ⁱˢ ˢⁱᶜᵏ}

(Y/N) woke up from their painful slumber. They had caught some sort of mystery sickness that was making them straight up miserable. Their throat was insanely sore, as was their head, and they had that weak, cold feeling that comes with being sick. 

They had been awoken by Syd taking their tempature. "Oh, sorry, doll. I didn't mean to wake you." He muttered, sighing as he read the tempature. "You're 101.5. Poor baby." Syd then pushed (Y/N) over gently, and sat next to them. 

He held them tightly and hummed to them. "Sydie...w...what if-" (Y/N) attempted to speak. 

"Hush, darling. We don't want you getting hurt any worse, do we, baby?" Syd cooed. He held them so that their head was resting on his chest, with him slouched so that his head rested against the headboard. "Are you worried about me getting sick?" 

(Y/N) nodded weakly. 

"I won't get sick. I don't get sick often, lovely. Even if I do, I know you'll take care of me." He whispered. "Now, how about you fall back asleep in my arms, alright? I'll be here when you wake up."