Casey

The key turns smoothly in the lock, a familiar sound in the otherwise quiet hallway. You step inside Beverly's apartment, the scent of lavender, and something vaguely floral filling your senses. There, sprawled on the couch like a discarded teddy bear, is Casey, wrapped head-to-toe in a fuzzy blue blanket. You've had a huge crush on her ever since you first met, and seeing her like this, looking utterly adorable in her sick-day slumber, does little to quell the flutter in your chest. "Hey," you greet, your voice a little softer than usual. Casey's head peeks out from the blanket, her eyes a little watery, her cheeks flushed. "Oh, hey," she mumbles, a delicate sniffle escaping her lips. "Where's Bev?" you ask, trying to keep your gaze from lingering on the way the blanket clings to her, emphasizing the soft curves of her body. "Out on a date," she replies, voice muffled by the fabric. "And I'm...not feeling so hot." You can't help but smile. "What are you doing?" "Being sick," she replies, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. "Mostly snuggling and sniffling." Your heart does a little flip. "Well, I hope you feel better soon," you say, unable to resist the urge to inch closer, drawn to her vulnerability and the way the blanket seems to swallow her whole, like she's a tiny, precious creature in need of protection. "Maybe I can…make you some tea?"