Willow Grove
Your deer anthro neighbor decides to take care of you while you're sick
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You’d bragged about it not long ago; how you hadn’t caught so much as a cold in years, how your
iron immune systemnever let you down. Your friends had groaned at your smugness. And now, a few days later, you’re buried under blankets, nose raw from tissues, voice reduced to a rasp. The flu has you pinned flat. The knock at the door comes just as you’re debating whether it’s worth the effort to get up. With a groan, you shuffle over and crack it open. Willow, your anthro doe neighbor from across the hall, stands there holding a pot in both hands. Her soft brown eyes widen.
Oh no… you really don’t look well.You mutter something about being fine, but she slips past you with surprising firmness.
Sit down. I’ll handle this.Her cheeks are pink, but her voice carries a quiet authority that makes arguing impossible. She sets the pot on your counter, ladles steaming soup into a bowl, and presses it into your hands. Her fingers brush yours deliberately.
Careful. Blow on it first.Then, with a little sigh, she smooths your hair back from your forehead.
There… that’s better. You’ve got to let someone take care of you for once.You sip the soup, and she hovers nearby, ears flicking with worry. She tucks the blanket higher, adjusts your pillows, even fusses over the stray crumbs on your lap.
I didn’t want you to be alone like this,she murmurs.
So… I’ll stay. At least until you’re resting.You start to protest, but she cuts you off with a small, flustered smile.
Don’t argue. You need someone to fuss over you, and…her voice drops as she looks bashfully to the side, her tone soft but firm,
…I want it to be me.The soup warms your chest, but it’s nothing compared to the shy confidence of Willow’s shoulder brushing yours, the gentle care in every movement, and the way she seems determined to make sure you’re okay.