I already got a bit annoyed as I sneezed again, maybe for the 142th time today. I sniffed, bringing a tissue up to my, probably awfully red, nose. I've wiped it so many times, that right now I almost heard it cry and scream in misery at the sight of another pile of tissue paper coming at it. Or it might be just fever messing with my head. Hard to tell.

Either way, I was extremely sick of being sick. I hate it.

I tore my gaze away from The Office playing on the TV and buried my face into the couch's pillow as I felt my eyes watering for some reason. Being ill doesn't make any sense at all. One good thing is, I took some painkillers and my head doesn't hurt as much.

I thought of why I would catch such a dreadful cold, and my best theory is the other night, when me and Johnny 'fought' in the pool.

Unfortunately, ever since I remember I've had a kind of low illness resistance. I was always first to get a flu when temperature dropped in fall and then have a runny nose through the whole winter. Sometimes fortunately though, because I skipped school a lot.

So, it turns out swimming in coldness of November's night is a perfect opportunity to get ill.

At least I got to make my new house liveable before I got sick. It's now cozy, beautifully arranged to the point where you could guess my whole personality just from looking at it, well-lighted, but not with too much light, exactly like I imagined and wanted it to be. I cared about the slightest details, like what kind of plants to put in the kitchen, comfy pillows on the couch and matching curtains. Also, all the furniture was already here, so the first thing you'd see, when walking in the living room, is a huge bookshelf with some of the greatest pieces I own.

Actually, probably the coolest room I have is this one with a giant window, through which always the light from sun setting pours in, where there are even more books and the best place to read them. Literal source of peace.

I, obviously, got some help from Maxine and Johnny (since him and I had almost the same taste in arranging our places), and whoever else stopped by to see the house. In fact, I was planning to throw a little party, just for the closest friends, but now, as I am in a state that I am, I don't think it'll be possible.

I looked around one more time and sighed. A dream house it, for sure, is.

I suddenly heard my phone letting out a quiet 'ding' as for a text. I lifted my head from the pillow a bit and stretched my left arm to get the thing from the table. I smiled as soon as I saw it's from Johnny.

I told him I don't feel very well and that I probably look even worse. My puffy eyes and bags underneath them caused by a sleepless night didn't help.

First of all, since when he uses shortcuts? Second of all, on his way where? To my house? I certainly didn't want him to be near me now, so he wouldn't fall ill, too.

I haven't received more texts from him, and my message about what he's up to wasn't even read. What's this guy doing?

Maybe 20 minutes later, when I was just about to take a quick nap to ease the headache a little, I heard doorbell ringing. At first I had no clue and got kinda annoyed because I didn't remember inviting anyone, but then I recalled my conversation with Johnny. I frowned, but was also kinda curious why he still showed up, even after I told him not to.

"Open!" I shouted as loud as I could, due to my sore throat. I think he's heard me though, 'cause not long after I registered the sound of front door shutting close.

And there he was, coming in through the kitchen door and placing, what seemed like, two bags of food on the counter. I figured out he must've worn a hat as I saw his black hair in a mess. He started growing it back, since it has to be a certain length for him to play Richard in few months.

I noticed how adorably pink his cheeks and nose were from the cold outside, causing me to smile a little.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked kinda worryingly, now bringing the food bags onto the living room table.

"Hi- Johnny why are you here? I don't want to share my cold." I replied with some of the hoarse in my voice. Instead of replying or sitting down beside me, he took a step closer, to which I hid under the duvet completely. "You can't touch me"

"Oh, come on. Have you ever seen me having a cold?" he asked. Actually, I didn't.

Like he's read my mind, he replied "that's because I can't get ill. It's my superpower."

I furrowed my brows and lowered the blanket to the level of my eyes, looking up at him. "Bullshit."

He used the opportunity to put the back of his hand to my forehead, most likely checking the temperature.

"Good lord, you're very hot," he frowned.

"Thank you." I replied, grinning like an idiot, even though I knew he was referring to the fever.

He returned it, looking down at me. I sat up and wrapped a blanket around me, causing only my head to show.

"I thought that if you can't go out and get food, the food will come to you. Also, I don't want you to suffer alone." he said, answering my question from earlier, sitting down on the couch.

I couldn't stop my smile, "That's nice, thank you. But I'm not really hung-"

"I've got lots of fries for you and I picked up a blueberry bubble-tea on the way." he interrupted. Well, I can't argue when he's bought my most favorite food to eat.

We ended up talking, magically eating all the food even though I've really lost my appetite and wasn't hungry at all, watching Spongebob Squarepants and eventually playing video games. It was so hilarious watching him get irritated as he would lose a game, and then seeing him become extremely focused just to get revenge.

I felt hundred times better than I would ever if I just took medicine. Funny, kinda like Johnny was my medicine. At some point I even forgot that I was ill. I hope he won't be, tho.

By the next morning I was almost fully cured and feeling much better. I might know who's mostly responsible for that.

🌺