#•° Henry Hart

At this moment Henry was lying in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and with a warm cloth on his forehead, he had become ill, he said he would never get sick, but here he is because a cold had made him weak

You entered the room with a thermometer in your hand to confirm if his temperature had dropped or worsened, Henry looked at you enter and smiled softly when he saw you, you sat on the bed and placed the thermometer on him, when you had already taken his temperature you took it to look at it

You showed the thermometer to Henry and he just sighed when he saw that his temperature hadn't gone down and was still at the same number, he didn't like being sick at all

"I hate being sick..." — He whispered as he laid his head back on the pillow