cold

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Charlie stays home with a cold, and Nick goes to visit him after school to check up on him.

I knock on the door of the Springs' house, Charlie's tea in one hand and an extra jumper folded over my arm. After a few moments, his mum opens the door.

"Hi, Jane," I say, smiling widely. I can smell a delicious scent coming from the kitchen as soon as the door opens.

"Nick! It's lovely to see you! But, I'm sorry, Charlie's home sick," she frowns apologetically.

"Oh, I know," I reply, "but I texted him earlier and said I'd bring him some tea and hang out for a little since he wasn't feeling well, is that alright?" I lift up the cup to show her.

"Oh, Nick, of course. You're too sweet," she smiles, gesturing for me to come inside. "He's right up in his room, hopefully he's awake."

I nod and thank her as I ascend the stairs, taking my time as I go to look at the framed pictures on the walls of the staircase. Most of them are of Charlie and his sister when they were toddlers, and he was downright adorable. Not that he isn't now, though.

I knock on his door, but get no answer. He must be asleep, so I quietly open the door and walk in. Sure enough, he's curled up on his bed with the covers tucked all the way up to his chin, his eyelids softly closed and nose pink. His laptop is on the blank Netflix home screen, he must've fallen asleep before he could even pick a show. I set the tea down on his nightstand and put my spare jumper over his desk chair, careful not to startle him.

Quietly, I walk up to him and rub his shoulder, and his eyes flutter slightly. "Mum?" he asks groggily, his voice nasally, and I chuckle lightly.

"No, sleepyhead, it's me. I said I was gonna come round, remember?" I gently use the tips of my fingers to push his curly dark hair from his forehead as his sleepy eyes look up to meet mine.

My voice must've surprised him in his sleepy state, because he gasps before happily whispering, "Hi." He gives a bright but tired smile, pulling me into a hug, and I reciprocate.

"Hi," I whisper as we hug. "How are you feeling?" I lean away slightly and kneel beside his bed to meet his eyes.

"Kind of disgusting," he says, his voice very nasally. "My head feels like it's going to burst, and my throat is burning, and I'm freezing," he pouts.

I reach out my hand and rest it on his forehead for a few seconds. "I don't think you have a fever, which is good. You're not warm," I say.

"Yeah, good except for the fact that I'm freezing," he giggles sadly, tucking the covers up to his chin once again, nuzzling his face into the pillow.

"Well, lucky for you, I came prepared." I grab his tea and my jumper and sit on the edge of the bed. "Hot green tea with honey and lemon, and my second favorite jumper."

He sits up with a fake pout on his face, "How come I don't get your favorite jumper?"

I roll my eyes, "You already took that one. In fact, you wore it yesterday."

"Oh, right," he chuckles. "It's quite comfortable, you know," he says, his voice still nasally and scratchy.

"Yes, I know. Or at least I used to know before you stole it," I smile, handing him the cup of hot tea. "Here, drink some of this. It'll help your throat and warm you up."

He takes the cup from my hands and takes a slow sip, closing his eyes as he does. "Thank you, Nick. You're the best," he says softly as to not strain his voice any more.

"I try," I grin, shrugging my shoulders.

"How was school?" Charlie asks, his voice scratchy as he takes another sip of his tea.

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