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"Stiles, if your dad finds out he'll blame me," Y/N pouted as she stood in front of her boyfriend of a year.
"Shut up," Stiles giggled, "That man loves you more than he loves me. And he's not going to find out. So please, lay down," He gestured for the sick girl to get into her bed.
"What if you miss a test, Stiles please go to school. What about Lacrosse practice?" Stiles lifted up the pink comforter on the bed.
Y/N started to get into bed, "What if something happens and Scott needs you, you're gonna be here with your sick girlfriend," She covered herself with the blanket.
"You know. It really seems like you don't want me here. You doing drugs without me or something?" Stiles grinned at the girl. She started shaking her head aggressively, she grabbed his wrist.
"It's not that. I want you here, I just don't want to be a burden. I don't want to get you sick."
"It will be worth it," Stiles leaned over and kissed her forehead. Y/N started pushing him away after he kissed her, "Move, move, move."
Y/N let out a huge sneeze that echoed through her house and made her legs bounce up from the bed.
"Are you alive?" Stiles looked Y/N with wide, concerned eyes.
"I think so," Y/N slowly nodded her head, a tear rolled down her cheek from her eyes being watery.
"That's it. I'm going down and making you soup. I'm staying here, and there's nothing you can do about it," Stiles shrugged and walked out of Y/N's room and downstairs.
Y/N sat in her bed and thought for a minute. Had she ever seen Stiles make soup? He wasn't the best at cooking, him and his father would only eat take out every night. The only time Stiles would have a home cooked meal was if Y/N's family invited him over for dinner.
"Stiles," Y/N yelled through the house. "Yea?" Stiles's voice answered her.
"Do you know how to make soup?"
"Absolutely not."
Y/N let out a huff of air, "I'm coming," She flipped the covers off of her.
