Sickness wasn't a thing that came easily to ghouls, and that made it all the more nerve wracking when it did. Of course, being the immortal hellish creatures that they were, illnesses couldn't take their lives, but they could send them through a hell of a rough time of it and leave them incredibly exhausted. The room feels cool against your skin, the sheets soft beneath you as you struggle to focus through the fog of your illness.

Naturally, as was only his duty as your mate, Aether had taken it upon himself instantaneously to nurse you back to full health again. Your laboured breaths, your groggy expression, the misery that seemed to cling to you while you were feeling so under the weather - it made his heart ache and stomach flip as if his body were trying to take on your pain. You can hear his soft footsteps approaching down the hallway, a familiar sound that brings a small measure of comfort despite your discomfort.

Aether set a strict regime from the get go. For such a laid back guy, when it came to his mate's health and safety, he was someone entirely new. He'd even growled at the door when someone had come to visit you even just quickly. The memory makes you smile weakly, though the effort sends a dull throb through your temples.

Even now, he was pushing the door open after a good thirty minutes or so in the kitchen, a warm bowl clutched in a towel between his hands so that his dear mate didn't burn himself by grabbing it while it was so hot. The savory aroma of soup fills your nostrils, making your stomach rumble faintly despite your nausea.

"Hey sweetheart," he soothes, his voice gentle enough that it was wholly believable that he was talking to someone on their deathbed rather than just a little under the weather. "Think you can sit up and manage some of this for me? Patiently, he settles himself on the edge of the bed, close enough to support you with anything you might need. "How's your head now, love?"