(Love)Sick {Tom Riddle}

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Pairing: Female!Reader x Tom Riddle

Summary: When Tom Riddle suddenly gets too sick, he has no choice but to let (Y/N) (Y/L/N) take care of him.

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Tom Riddle was someone who took his health seriously. He took care of himself fairly well, and he did not eat anything that looked more than questionable.

So, why was he unable to simply get out of bed and leave the Hospital Wing?

This was not quite like him; he could most likely count the number of times he had gotten sick, ever, with only one hand. What was worse was that he had no explanation as to how it had happened. He was completely fine the previous day, no one had jinxed him, and he had not exposed himself to anything unusual.

So, why did he his body ache so much? Why was his head throbbing like hell? And why was he shivering when he felt warm all over?

The matron had given him some medicine earlier and told him to stay put and rest for a while, but he had no time for such thing. He would miss all of his classes if he wasted another minute lying around, but the ache in his bones was not allowing him to move an inch. He hated this; it made him feel useless, pathetic.

It made him sick. Or, at least, sicker than he already was.

The sound of the large doors opening shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see (Y/N) carefully walking towards him, with a full tray on her hands and a smile on her face. “How’s my favorite patient doing today?” She asked, a little too brightly for his liking.

He gave her a look, which was enough answer by itself, and she chuckled. “I made you some chicken soup. The kitchen elves helped out, of course.” She placed the tray on the night table. The bowl was steaming, and even Tom had to admit that it looked good, but the glass of pumpkin juice accompanying it was suddenly calling out for his sore throat. Whether it was because she noticed him eyeing it, or simply because she thought it best, she handed it to him, and he took a large gulp after struggling to sit up straight. It almost felt like he was reborn as soon as he drank the liquid. When he was done, he stared blankly at her and arched an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking care of you.” She answered in an obvious tone.

“Why?”

“Because It’s pitiful seeing you this way.” She smirked before pressing her palm against his forehead. He almost jumped at the sudden touch. “You have a fever, still.”

“I feel fine.” He reassured. It failed to convince her when a small coughing fit followed up his words.

She grabbed the bowl with one hand and took a spoonful of soup with the other. “Open up.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed. “I will not.”

She got the spoon closer to his lips and he leaned back. “(Y/N), I’m serious, if you don’t stop this right now-”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic.” She rolled her eyes. “It won’t kill you to be dependent for a day or so. Now, open.”

Tom looked at her for a moment. He knew her well -too well, in fact-, and he knew that she was not going to give up so easily. So, instead of arguing with her any further, he opened his mouth hesitantly. “Good boy.” She teased as the warm liquid met his tongue. He did not seem amused by her mockery, but was very impressed by her cooking skills.

She fed him the soup slowly, and with each spoonful that she offered him, he looked less tense. He hated the fact that she was seeing him this way, when he was usually much more composed. But she did not seem to mind it, nor did she seem to think it was an odd sight. In fact, she was quite content aiding him. She was lucky being the only person that Tom would let get this close to him. “I will miss all of my classes if I don’t get out of here.” He said after finishing what was left of the soup.

“Is that all you ever think about?” She chuckled as she set the now empty bowl back on the tray. “You’re excused, don’t worry about it too much. Besides, I can bring you your homework.”

He did not say anything else, but watched as she stood up and dusted off her robes. “Anyway, I better get going now. You stay here and rest, okay? If you feel worse just tell the matron, or if you don’t want to then-”

Before she could walk away, he grabbed her wrist with the little strength he had left. She looked at his hand, taken aback by the sudden action. “It’s only eight.” He pointed out.

She glanced at the clock on the wall before her eyes moved back to him. “Yes, and?”

“There’s still an hour left before class starts.”

She examined his face carefully. “And you want me to-”

“Stay, yes.” He said quietly.

Seeing him sick was not odd for (Y/N); him asking her to stay with him, on the other hand, was very odd.

Yes, she and Tom had spent time together before, but he would never ask her to stay longer, or at least not directly. If it did happen, which was rare, it would always be in very subtle ways that took (Y/N) way too long to decipher. She assumed that it was the sickness beginning to take a toll on him, and even if she wanted to, she could not say no to him. Especially when his eyes looked so tired.

The bed was not big, but Tom scooted over so that (Y/N) could lay down next to him. Surprisingly enough, both of them were quite comfortable in the limited space they had. Tom’s warmth embraced her immediately, but to him her touch was almost freezing cold. He did not mind it, though.

It did not take long for his head to drop on her shoulder. She looked down at him and saw that his eyes were closed, but he was not asleep, yet. She figured it would not take long for him to drift away, though, in his condition it was hard not to.

She began to run her fingers through his neat curls, and he let out a quiet sigh. A smile subconsciously crept its way onto her lips; she was fascinated by him. Tom was usually so serious and proper, and although he was naturally charming, he was also very adorable in this state.

If it were for her, she would have stayed in that bed with him, sleeping for hours and not even caring about the amount of school work that was to come.

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