“My head is stuffy and my nose is swollen and it sounds like I’ve swallowed a frog…” Sybil groaned.
“Well have no fear, milady…Dr. Branson is here to take care of you.”
Sybil eyed him. “I’m Dr. Branson,” she muttered.
“Not today; today you are the patient whose every wish and whim I shall serve; you want a hot bowl of soup? I’ll make it. Honey to go with your tea? I’ll fetch it. A warm body to press yourself against, not to mention two hands that will happily sponge bathe you–”
“I think you’re liking this idea a bit too much,” she laughed, the first laugh she had shared ever since she woken up that day.
“I like taking care of you, I’ll admit that,” he grinned, and then kissed her forehead. “Even when you’re perfectly healthy.”
Sybil giggled and snuggled against him. “Well, before you go and make the tea and the soup and run the bath, which does sound heavenly,” she sighed. “Right now, I will take you up on your offer of providing that warm body to snuggle up against.”
He smiled and happily wrapped his arms around her. “My pleasure.”
FEEL BETTER @cassiemortmain!
**pictures not mine; image of allen from @allenleechonline
Musings of a Yankee Countess 