Imagines

"Hold me" (Michael Clifford)

You had been sick all day. Michael was rehearsing for the new tour that set off in eight days. You didn't want to bother him, so you didn't tell him you were sick as a dog.

You were laying in bed when your phone went off. You heavily sighed, rolling over and grabbing your phone from the bedside table. Michael had texted you:

Hii babe. we're leaving a bit early today, so I will be home within a hour. love you xx

You didn't bother with a reply. You tossed your phone on the table, but it slid and fell on the floor. You rolled your eyes, bending down to get it when you felt a rush of nausea. You ran to the bathroom and got sick. After, you didn't have the strength to get back into bed. So you laid in the floor, hoping the Michael would be coming home sooner than an hour.

An hour passed and you were almost asleep after getting sick a few more times. The front door to your house opened and shut back, indicating Michael was home.

"Baby?" he called through the house, coming upstairs to try to find you.

"In here," you weakly call as he poked his head into the master bathroom.

"Y/N," he spoke as he dashed to your side, "baby why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"

"Tour starts in eight days, Michael," you spoke as he started to pick you up, "I couldn't bother you."

"Well, tour got pushed back another week. You're not a bother, beautiful. You should've told me you were ill, I would've stayed home to take care of you."

He laid you down in bed, covering you up and kissing your nose. "Go to sleep princess. I'll come check on you in a bit."

//

You felt a hand against your forehead and you opened your eyes, Michael staring at you. He sighed, taking his hand away from your forehead and kissing your nose. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a stupid bus," you grumbled, closing your eyes as Michael began playing with your hair.

He quietly laughed, "Is there anything I can do for you, baby?" You sighed, opening your eyes and poking out your lower lip.

"Hold me."

He smiled, getting in behind you. His sweatpants leg rubbed against your cold leg and he felt you shaking.

"Baby, you're shaking." he worriedly spoke. He got up and you whined, but he returned with a sweatshirt of his and a really big, soft blanket he usually took on tour with him. He covered the bed with the blanket and made you sit up. He slipped the sweatshirt over your head, helping you put your arms through the arm sleeves.

He got back into bed with you and held you like you had asked, and you were out like a light a few seconds later. 

//

abmc is up :)