𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 - ?

you don't know which is worse—the pounding in your skull, the fact that your nose is so stuffed you can barely breathe, or the unmistakable sound of shidou ryusei banging on your apartment door.

you groan, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. maybe if you ignore him, he'll just go away.

no such luck.

"oi, open up! i know you're in there!"

you squeeze your eyes shut as his voice echoes through the hallway. god, why does he have to be so loud?

"babe, don't make me break down the door!" he calls again, far too cheerful for someone making a threat.

you don't doubt for a second that he'd actually try. with a deep sigh (which turns into a weak cough halfway through), you drag yourself out of bed, shuffling toward the door like a zombie. you barely manage to crack it open before shidou bursts inside like he owns the place.

his sharp pink eyes scan you from head to toe, taking in your oversized hoodie, messy hair, and the blanket draped around your shoulders. his lips curl into a grin.

"damn, you look terrible."

you glare at him. "and yet, you're still here."

"of course! can't have my favorite person dying on me," he says, kicking the door shut behind him. "besides, i gotta see this in person—the unstoppable, always-tough (y/n), taken down by a little fever? unbelievable."

you roll your eyes and turn to shuffle back toward your bed, but before you can take a step, shidou is suddenly lifting you off the ground.

"what are you—"

"you're moving too slow," he says, completely unbothered as he carries you bridal-style back to your room.

you flail weakly. "put me down, you absolute menace—"

"shhh, sick people shouldn't waste energy fighting." he plops you onto the bed like you weigh nothing, tucking the blanket around you before flashing you a way too smug grin.

you groan. "i don't need a babysitter, shidou."

"good thing i'm not one," he smirks, stretching his arms behind his head. "i'm your personal nurse, and nurse shidou doesn't abandon his patients."

you eye him warily. "...you have zero medical experience."

he winks. "doesn't mean i won't be the best damn nurse you've ever had."

you're about to argue when your stomach growls—loudly.

shidou's grin widens. "hungry, huh?"

"no," you lie immediately.

"liar." he laughs and turns toward the kitchen. "i'll cook something for you."

that makes you actually panic. "wait, no—"

too late.

you hear cabinets opening, things being moved around very aggressively, and what sounds suspiciously like a knife hitting the counter way too hard.

you drop your head back onto the pillow and sigh. you're going to die today.

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twenty minutes later, shidou returns, balancing a steaming bowl in one hand and a very proud look on his face.

"tadaaa!" he announces. "homemade soup, courtesy of the future greatest striker in the world."

you sit up hesitantly. "...what's in it?"

he shrugs. "dunno."

you blink. "excuse me?"

"i just threw in whatever looked good." he sets the bowl on your nightstand and hands you a spoon. "now, eat up before i have to spoon-feed you myself."

you scowl, grabbing the spoon before he gets any ideas.

the first bite is... not as bad as you expected.

shidou watches you expectantly, leaning in way too close. "well?"

you chew slowly, feeling the heat of his gaze. "...it's actually good."

his grin is blinding. "hell yeah! i knew i was a natural!"

you roll your eyes but keep eating, too tired to fight him on it.

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after you've finished (and confirmed you aren't poisoned), shidou makes himself comfortable beside you, stealing half your blanket like it belongs to him.

"shidou, what are you doing?"

"watching movies with you." he grabs the remote and starts scrolling. "sick people need entertainment. i'm sacrificing my night for you, y'know."

you sigh but let it go. you're too tired to fight him, and if you're being honest, his presence is oddly comforting.

halfway through the movie, your eyelids start getting heavy. the warmth of the blanket, the distant sound of rain against the window, and shidou's natural body heat (because of course he runs warm) all lull you into drowsiness.

just as you start drifting off, you feel movement beside you—then a hand brushing against your forehead.

"damn, you really are burning up, huh?"

his voice is quieter now, lacking its usual teasing edge.

you're too tired to respond, but you feel his fingers gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"guess i'll stick around a little longer," he mutters, more to himself than to you.

your lips twitch into a faint smile as sleep pulls you under.

and just before you drift off completely, you hear him whisper—

"try not to die before i take you out on a real date, yeah?"

maybe you should get sick more often.

𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠