Hidden [h.s]

SIXTY-SIX (EDITED)

I wake up in the morning, burning hot. My throat is dry and painful, my nose is stuffed and my skin is on fire.

"You're up, finally," Harry says. He's dressed already in a grey t-shirt and his usual jeans, worry etched into his face. He sits by me on the bed.

"I feel horrible," I croak, trying to swallow to ease the painful dryness of my throat.

"You were burning up, but I didn't want to wake you," he says. He hands me a thermometer. "Put this in your mouth."

I comply, the cool metal of the stick soothing on my tongue. A few minutes later, the thermometer beeps and Harry takes it from my mouth, reading it quickly.

"One oh two," He says, placing it on the bedside table. "You're not going anywhere today."

"But it's Monday," I say. "We have work-"

"There is no way in hell you're going to work," Harry says instantly.

"Here, put on some pajamas," He says, ignoring my protests. He hands me some of my pajamas I must have left here before. I slide them on quickly and then am ushered back into bed by Harry.

"Harry, I need to go to work." I say.

"No, Rosalie," He says.

"You're staying here, and so am I."

"You can't miss work," I say, shaking my head. "I'll be fine."

"Rosalie--"

"Is everything alright?" Gemma opens the door a crack, peeking in.

I manage to smile at her weakly. "Morning, Gemma."

"Rose has a one hundred and two degree fever," Harry states and I roll my eyes.

"Oh dear, that's not good." Gemma says, stepping into the
room.

"Yeah, so we're staying home from work today," He says.

"No, you're going to work, Harry," I say.

"I'm not leaving you here by yourself," He says sternly.

"I could take care of her," Gemma says.

"No," Harry says instantly.

"Why not?"

"Because...because..." Harry struggles for a liable excuse and I smirk.

"Get in your work clothes, Harry, I'll make Rose some tea," Gemma says, smirking as well.

Harry huffs, knowing he's outnumbered. Gemma turns on her heel and walks out of the room.

I lean back on Harry's pillows as he pulls his t-shirt off, swapping it for a white dress shirt and black slacks. He knots a black tie around his neck and grabs his coat, turning back to me.

I've always admired how handsome Harry looks in his work clothes. "I guess I'll go then," He sighs.

I nod.

"I'll tell Gemma where I keep my medicine, and get lots of sleep," He says, leaning down and kissing my burning forehead.

"God, you sound like my mother," I say.

He rolls his eyes. "Don't do anything stupid and if you steal my Snickers I will know."

"And how will you know?"

"Trust me, I'll know." He smirks and kisses my cheek before straightening up.

"Have fun at work!" I call after him.