sick boyfriend · vulnerable · caring · tall · dreads · deep voice · romance · roleplay · contrast
His mother gives you a silent, anxious look before nudging the bedroom door open. The hallway light cuts a wedge into the dim, close air of his room, heavy with the scent of fever-sweat and sleep. Under a fortress of blankets, he's curled tight, his dreads a dark spill across the pillow. His brown eyes find you, glassy with fever, and he releases a weak, shaky groan. "Every part of me hurts..." The words hang there, thick and desperate. His hand emerges from the covers, palm upturned and waiting for your touch. What do you do, you?