Then Came You { a pedro pascal fanfiction }

Chapter Seven

I knew it was covid the moment I woke up, my skin prickly, my body sending shivering waves from my head down to my core.

Pedro and I rarely left the apartment building, but we had gone to the store three days prior to get groceries for the week.

I groaned, putting all my effort into rolling over so I could grab my phone. There were already two text messages on my screen, both from him.

I'm dying.

Not actually, but I definitely have covid.

I called him, putting it on speaker and letting my phone drop onto my stomach as it rang, twice, before he answered, his voice low and sleepy.

"Luce... I feel like death embodied." He groaned.

"Me too." I said, my voice breaking as my throat screamed at me.

"Shit, you're sick too?" I heard his bed creak, as he-- most likely-- sat up.

"Yeah, we probably got it at the store on Sunday. I don't think I can move, I can't-- can't stop shivering." I tried to speak through a heavy bout of shakes.

"Ugh, you're probably right. Stay put, I'll be right over."

My heart ached, but I forced myself to interject, "No, Pedge, it's fine. I'll be--" I started, but he interrupted me.

"Too late, I'm already up, I'll be there in a minute." He said, then the phone beeped angrily before I could continue to put up a fight.

It was less than a minute when I heard the lock click open from down the hall. I'd given him my spare key a few days prior at his request, so he could lock my door when I inevitably forgot to.

"Luce?" He called out from the living room.

"Bedroom." I tried to call out, shivering madly, my legs aching like I'd run fifteen miles in my sleep.

He shuffled into my room, his dark hair a chaotic mess on his head, his eyes puffy, but he still managed to give me a soft smile.

"Shot down in our prime."

"Shot down in my-- my prime. You're o-- old." I tried to spit out through the manic shaking.

He sat down on the edge of my bed, shaking his head, "Can barely speak and you still managed to insult me."

"I-- I have--" I started before he interrupted me.

"Stop, you're going to wear yourself out." He leaned over and placed the back of his palm on my forehead. For once, it felt cold against my skin.

"Jesus... Do you have a thermometer?" He asked, his eyebrows furled together with concern.

I nodded, "In the ba-- bathroom."

He left, and promptly returned with both the thermometer and a bottle of ibuprofen.

"Alright," He breathed out as he sat back down, "Put this under your tongue." He told me, like I'd never used a thermometer before.

My body was trembling too intensely for me to say anything snarky, though. I just stuck it under my tongue, staring up at his concerned face until it beeped at me.

He took it out of my mouth before I could myself, his eyebrows furling as he tried to read the screen without his glasses.

"Fuck." He muttered, bringing it closer to his face, "I'm so goddamn blind."