I Don't Get Sick That Easily (Russia x Reader)

You shivered as the chilly wind nipped at your nose. You knew you should have worn better clothing before heading out, but at the time, you didn't think it would be so cold.
 "I'm such a stubborn idiot," you muttered under your breath.
 At the moment, you were headed over to the grocery store to pick up some bread. You were craving a [favourite sandwich], and you were about to do anything to get that sandwich. Even if that means walking outside on a cold, autumn day.
 "[Name]?"
 You turned around, only to find your good friend, Ivan, emerging from a nearby bookstore. He stared at you with a concerned expression on his face, noticing how you shook like a Chihuahua.
 You managed to crack a smile, despite your numb cheeks. "H-Hey, Ivan. How're you doing?" you asked.
 "I'm fine. What are you doing outside in such thin clothing?" he asked, walking closer until he towered over you like a human skyscraper.
 "I was just on my way to the grocery store," you said, jabbing your thumb over your shoulder. "I need to pick up some bread."
 "That doesn't explain why you're dressed so poorly for such cold weather."
 You sighed. When it comes to cold weather, Ivan always seems to know best. You looked up at the Russian, trying to look strong so as not to worry him further.
 "It's fine," you reassured. "I'll be back home before you know it. I just really need to get that bread, okay?"
 Ivan narrowed his brow, clearly unconvinced by your words. Even so, he decided to let you carry on your way. He knew how stubborn you could be, so there was really no point in trying to change your mind.
 "Be careful, okay, [Name]?" he said. "You don't want to get sick."
 You laughed, slowly walking backwards towards the grocery store. "I don't get sick that easily," you stated proudly. "It's going to take more than a little wind to break through my immune system!"
 After saying goodbye, you spun around and made your way to the grocery store.

.:THE NEXT DAY:.

Ivan walked up to your house and knocked on your front door. After waiting a minute and receiving no response, he knocked again. He continued to knock with strong persistence until he heard you shout from inside.
 "I'm coming, I'm coming!" you hollered.
 When the door ripped opened, Ivan was shocked by what he saw. You stood in the doorway with a fuzzy blanket wrapped around your body, apparently doing nothing to stop you from shivering. Your nose ran like water from a tap, and your face was completely red. To put it simply, you looked terrible.
 "You're sick," said Ivan.
 "No shit, Sherlock," you snapped, sniffling and wiping your nose with your sleeve.
 Ivan frowned. "You shouldn't have gone out the other day."
 You coughed into your fist before looking back up at Ivan with half-lidded eyes. "Well, I can't really take it back, now, can I?" You tightened the blanket around your body. "Are you coming in or staying out here?"
 Ivan entered your house, walking with you to the living room. He quickly noticed the millions of dirty tissues scattered across the coffee table, as well as the many other blankets piled onto the couch.
 "Why aren't you in bed?" he asked as you made a spot for yourself on the couch.
 "Because I want to watch TV," you stated.
 Ivan watched as you picked up the remote control and turned on the television. A half-hour comedy came on, doing nothing to change your unamused expression.
 "You should get some sleep," he said. "Or at least rest in your own bed."
 You cracked a smile at a joke the main character made before quickly returning to your previous expression. "If you want to be helpful, you could make me some soup." You looked up at Ivan. "I tried making some earlier, but I got sidetracked by a headache and ended up watching an episode of Adventure Time."
 "I'll only make you some soup if you go and lie down in bed," said Ivan, crossing his arms and giving you a stern look that only a parent could pull off.
 You would have stared Ivan down until he finally agreed to let you stay planted on the couch, but you were in no condition to argue with him. It looks like you'll have to put aside your stubbornness until you feel better.
 "... Fine." You gathered up your blankets and shuffled down to your bedroom. After getting comfortable, you shot an annoyed look at your Russian friend. "Happy now?"
 He smiled. "Da. Now I'll go and make you some soup."
 A little while later, Ivan returned with a bowl of hot, chicken noodle soup. He carefully placed the bowl on the bedside table before pulling up a nearby chair and sitting down next to your bed.
 "What are you doing?" you asked, slowly and steadily pushing yourself up into a sitting position.
 He picked the bowl back up, taking hold of the spoon and scooping up the hot broth. "I'm going to feed you," he said, holding the spoon up to your mouth. "Open up."
 You furrowed your brow, giving him a confused look. "You don't need to feed me, Ivan. I'm sick, but I'm not a vegetable."
 Without pulling back the spoon, he said, "It's okay. I just want to take care of you. Now, say 'ahh'."
 Seeing as you were still too ill to argue, you decided to let Ivan feed you the soup. The hot broth felt good on your sore throat, not to mention it tasted delicious, too.
 After you finished the entire bowl, you let out a relieved sigh and snuggled back under the covers. "That was really good, Ivan," you said. "Thank you."
 "You're welcome." He took your bowl and began to leave the room. Just before he could disappear down the hall, you called out to him.
 "Aren't you worried you might catch my cold?" you asked. The question had surfaced in your mind while he was feeding you, and it was really starting to bother you. You would feel guilty if Ivan got sick because of you.
 Ivan turned around with a smile on his cute face. "So long as I can help you get better, I don't care what happens to me."
 He left the room after saying that, leaving you to ponder over his words as you stared at the white ceiling of your bedroom. Such sweet words from the adorable Russian always left you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. Not a bad uneasy feeling. Just... an uneasy feeling.
 Explaining these kinds of things is difficult.
 Ivan returned with a glass of water. After setting it on the bedside table, he took his hand and rested the back of it on your forehead. "You're still hot," he said.
 "Aren't I always?" you grinned playfully.
 Ivan brushed a loose strand of hair out of your face. "Da, I suppose so."
 You weren't really expecting that answer from him. Now the room was quiet with awkward silence. Awkward for you, anyway.
 "[Name]?"
 "Yeah?"
 He leaned down and placed a gently kiss on your warm forehead. "Я тебя люблю," he said as he pulled away, smiling.
 You frowned. "I don't speak Russian," you informed.
 Ivan chuckled. "You'll figure it out sooner or later."
 After Ivan left to let you rest, you allowed yourself to turn beet-red from the embarrassment and excitement welling within you. With the blankets pulled up over your head, you grinned like a giddy schoolgirl.
 "Yeah, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you said to me."