#sugur

The front door to your shared apartment with Suguru clicks shut softly, just like it always does at exactly 5pm, when he gets off at work. His back is turned towards you as he slides off his shoes, he's pulled his raven long hair down from his usual half up, half down style.

When he turns around, you can see how it frames his face and then falls just beneath his shoulders. He wears a kind, gentle private smile just for you, but it falters.

His tie is loosened around his neck and the top button of his white buttoned up, is opened. It reveals the tiniest bit of his pale skin as he stands in the tiny hallway, towering over you even from all the way by the door.

Suguru's eyes rake over your body. The color drained from your face, eyebrows furrowed, your eyes glossy, and your curled up position on the couch.

"y/n..." he calls out softly, walking over to you in two easy strides. He sighs deeply, eyebrows knitting together with deep concern as he sits on the edge of the couch beside your side.

His hand rests on your hip as he frowns deeply. His thumb rubs gently circles into your sides as his gaze softens as he looks down at you.

"Hi," you gently croak out, your voice clearly weak and tired.

"Why didn't you tell me?" his voice is like honey, smooth and tender. You sigh deeply and shrug, self consciously.

"You were at work...I didn't wanna worry you," you chew on your bottom lip, slightly shifting on the couch. Suguru's frown seems to deepen as he reaches up with his free hand and presses the back of his palm to your forehead.

You catch his eyes widening for a spilt second before he masks it into his usual calm demeanor. "Well, considered me worried now. You're burning up," he shakes his head.

He's right. You're tucked under a fuzzy knitted blanket on the couch, your head propped up on a pillow. Your whole face feels super hot but a chill runs down your spine. Classic fever signs...

Suguru's hand travels down to cup one side of your face, thumb gently caressing your skin. Your eyes flutter shut content for a moment as you lean into his touch.

"I'll make you some soup, okay? Stay here, don't even think about getting up," Suguru's tone is firm, but behind it there's concern. Your eyes flutter open and you glance up at him, taking in the way his black hair frames his face and his bold eyebrows.

You smile weakly and nod. "Okay," you whisper snuggling deeper into the blanket. Suguru's lips dare to twitch up into a tiny smile as he leans his, kissing your forehead.

His long hair gently brushes over your cheek before he pushes himself up from the couch. His hand on your hip, gives you a slight squeeze before reluctantly releasing you and his feet pad into the kitchen.

Your husband...making you soup.