Poor X.
The lawyer has seemingly been struggling with some kind of chest infection for a while now- it seems like whenever Y passes his office, she can hear him clearing his throat, muffled coughing drifting through the walls as he tries to catch his breath.
“I’ll b-be- *wheeze*- f-fine. Just… just need to c-catch my- my breath.”
Wiping his mouth, he soon leans back against the bricks. His shallow exhales become steam in the cold air.
“I think you might need some stronger cough medicine.” Y murmurs, still rubbing slow circles against his back. “If you want, I could get you some?”
His gaze crawls over to hers, dull hope flickering within them. “Y-yeah?”
His eyes roll, exhaustion taking over, but a quick tap to the cheek brings him right back, blinking languidly.
“M'okay.” He mumbles. “Th-thanks.”
Y's hand, still lingering on his cheek, moves to swipe away a sweat-dampened curl from his forehead. “I’m not sure whether ‘okay’ is quite the right word to describe you right now, X… Take a few minutes down here, and then I'll walk you back up to your office, alright? I’m going to tell your assistant- Z, isn't it?- to make sure you get some rest while I fetch you some meds.”
X swallows, shaking his head weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be f- fine.”
“I’m the doctor here. Just try to relax for once in your life.”
Finally, he sighs, nodding. He's still leaning his head against the brick wall as his eyes fall closed.
Y continues to rub his back for a few minutes, a comfortable silence enveloping them. When she looks back at the lawyer beside her, his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. The quick, shallow breaths of before have slowed and deepened.
A small smile creeps onto her face. He's asleep.
X starts to lean unconsciously towards her. Soon, as he remains asleep and snoring, his head lands on her shoulder.
He's definitely going to drool all over her dress.
“Bless him .” Z whispers, cocking his head a little as he watches X sleep. “He's absolutely knackered.”
Y isn't entirely sure what that word means, but if it has anything to do with exhaustion, he's completely right. X is curled up on the couch, cheek pressed against a throw pillow Z thrifted, buried beneath a mound of blankets Y brought from home. They're ever so slightly weighted, and the pressure is comforting for X. She's trying to get used to his sensory needs. To not rely on him resolving them himself, especially when he's sick. Judging by the peaceful look on his face, nostrils flaring gently with each slow breath, she's doing something right at least.
She hopes, also, that bringing him into her workplace was the right thing to do as well, groaned when she half-dragged X through the doors, pale and shakily covering his ears, squinting against the light, but what was she supposed to do? Suppose X had been left alone, and needed to get something to drink? Doing those things alone right now is essentially impossible for him.
Y's phone beeps, and she turns it on to find a reminder:
X’s antibiotics.
She sighs, glancing over at cosy-looking just as his nose twitches in his sleep.
Z notes frustration. “Antibiotic time?”
“Yep.”
With another small sigh of sympathy, she stands and wanders over to the feverish bundle of blankets and gentle snores, placing a gentle hand on the top of his head. Her thumb brushes against the sweat-damp curls that hang over his eyes.
“ X? Sweetheart? Wake up for me, pumpkin.”
When, after a few seconds of waiting, he doesn't stir, she gently strokes her index finger against his lower eyelashes. It's an age-old trick, and just like always, his eyes gradually open halfway.
“Hey, X.” She whispers, smiling reassuringly as he blinks in the light. For once, he doesn't make any attempt to get up. His dizziness is clearly plaguing him again. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but you need to take your meds. Can you do that for me?”
He swallows, clearly disoriented. Barely awake. “ Mm.”
“Thank you. You don't even have to sit up, alright? Just…” she takes the bottle of pills from the coffee table and unscrews the lid, shaking a couple into her palm. “Just put these in your mouth, sweetheart.”
Shakily, he obeys. Y's now empty hand is nearly immediately met with a glass of water filled up moments ago by Z. She moves closer to X and holds the rim of the glass up to his lips.
“Now take a few sips, and swallow… Good job.”
As soon as his small (yet Herculean) task is complete, X sinks back against the pillow entirely, eyes closing. Y draws the blanket over his shoulders, hand yet again drifting to his hair.
“How’re you feeling?” she asks softly.
His nostrils flare. He doesn't open his eyes. “ B-bad… Di- dizzy.”
“ I bet… the antibiotics will make things better soon, pumpkin, I promise. Just rest.”
X swallows thickly. “ C-can I go b-back to sleep now?”
T gives him a small smile. “Of course you can.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his too-warm forehead before withdrawing, still carding through his hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Night night.”
Within moments, his breaths even out again.
Soon, her pager will beep, and somehow X will remain fast asleep, swathed in blankets and yet still shivering. She'll check the little device to find that she's needed down at the hospital for a delivery. She'll know that it's okay for her to leave, because there's a whole team watching over. Keeping him safe and comfortable.
For now, however, she listens to the murmurings of her colleagues about how adorable X is (she knows, it's why she loves him so much) and traces his features with her thumb.
“That’s it, X. Sweet dreams.”