Soup Brings Smiles.

Justine Conry had never missed a day of work. Not ever. Except, of course, for this past week. She sat upon her sofa wrapped in a king sized bed duvet, which seemed to have become her personal body guard over the last few days.

She was sick. And my god she hated it with a passion.

Usually she'd just bite the bullet and grin and bare it whilst carrying on with her normal, every-day life. But this time, it was bad. She felt like she'd been hit by a speeding bus, or at least some very heavy, large object.

She let out a groan as she stared at the TV screen in front of her as another crappy cop show began, the groan causing her to burst out into a full-blown coughing fit. It took her a while to recover, a shaky hand reaching out from her duvet for the glass of water that she had prepared earlier. She placed it to her lips and began taking large gulps of the now warm liquid. It was then that a large pounding came from her front door. She cursed at the loud thudding that rang throughout her skull making it pound and throb in pain even more than it already had been. She dragged herself to her feet, pulling the duvet around her a bit more as she semi-walked, semi-stumbled towards her front door.

She unlocked it and glared through what must have been the tinniest gap ever between the door and it's frame at the intruder of her private time, even if she secretly longed for the company. A mess of blond spikes being the first thing to catch her eye, followed by a set a straight pearly whites as her co-worker Greg leaned forward and grinned at her.

“Let me in, I brought soup!” He exclaimed, holding up a large Styrofoam cup, that seemed to be steaming from the top, for her to see. Justine groaned. It could have been anyone, why did it have to be Greg? As much as she really didn't want Greg to see her in her current state AKA a complete mess, she stepped away from the door to let him inside.

“You look like crap.” Greg pointed out honestly, a huge smile still filling his face as he pushed the door shut. Justine rolled her eyes at him and let out an aggravated moan in response as she walked back over to her sofa and fell onto it, duvet puffing up around her so that the only thing visible to Greg was the top half of her head. He smiled and walked over to where she was sat, offering her the steaming cup of soup he had brought with him.

“Chicken noodle. Your favourite when you're sick right?” He smiled sweetly as she gratefully took the soup from him. The fact he'd remembered such a small, simple thing made her heart lift a little in her chest, a huge relief after it had felt like it had shriveled up and died for most of the week.

“Yeah,” she croaked quietly as she watched Greg push aside a few magazines on her coffee table before taking a seat on the edge of it, “thanks.”

Greg shrugged, smile still stretched smoothly over his lips. “Least I could do.”

A silence fell between them as Justine slowly sipped from the cup of soup Greg had brought her. It was surprisingly good, considering it wasn't her Nana's soup - what she had become accustomed to when ill growing up. But then again, Greg did seem to know all the best places for any form of food in Vegas and had introduced her to many amazing small diners and restaurants on and off Strip.

She wondered if that's what Greg did a lot of in his spare time, searching for and testing out random places to eat in Vegas. She shook her head at that idea, there's was no way Greg would do something as....boring as that in his spare time. No, not crazy spiky haired, baggy t-shirted, tight jeaned Greg Sanders. She just couldn't picture Greg sat in a diner alone on a Saturday morning trying to decide if their eggs were better than the place he went to last week or not.

“So...” Greg began, cutting through the long silence, and Justine's thoughts, that had overcome them and glancing around the dimly lit room. “Have you turned into a vampire or something? It's well dark in here.”

“Not a vampire. But sunlight does burn my eyes at the moment.” Justine croaked again before taking another slurp of the warm soup in her hands. She debated about getting up to get a spoon to scoop the noodles out with, but decided against it because she really just couldn't be bothered to get up again.

Greg nodded and bit his lip in thought, something Justine had always found beyond adorable. It was no secret to herself that she was attracted to Greg, and she was sure it probably wasn't much of a secret to a few of her other co-workers too, but she had always managed to keep their relationship professional, it was just easier that way.

Greg was still glancing around the room, the top row of those pearly whites of his sinking into his bottom lip. He arose to his feet and walked over to the nearest window, pulling the dark curtains back allowing the room to be cascaded in bright, dazzling sunlight. Justine flinched as it filled the room, sinking deeper into her duvet as an attempt to protect herself from the intruding light that was burning through her retinas; a slight hiss escaping her lips as she did so, making Greg chuckle.

“Right, not a vampire.” He laughed walking over and throwing himself down onto the sofa next to her.

“I'm not a fan of the sun when I'm healthy, let alone when I feel like I'm on my deathbed. There is a reason I work the Graveyard shift, Greg.” Justine stated, still aggravated by the sunlight. He shook his head at her again and leaned forward in his seat.

“Sunlight is good for you. Healthy or not.” He smiled at her. She couldn't help but smile back, his smile was so damn contagious dammit.

“See, you're feeling better already.” He grinned from ear to ear in response to her smile.

“I'm pretty sure that has nothing to do with the sun.” Justine mumbled as she looked down at the soup in her hands. “This is really good soup by the way.” She added as an after thought hoping it would distract Greg from what she'd originally said. He grinned again.

“Damn straight it is, made it myself!” He sound proudly, teeth gleaming and cheeks looking like they were about to burst if his smile got any bigger. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, Greg can cook?

“Don't look so shocked, my Nana Olaf taught me how to cook a bunch of things and let me in on a few of her special recipes" his eyes shining as he spoke about his Nana. "And her soups never fail to make me feel better when I'm sick.” He added with a small smile.

“Although, I never do quite seem to get it perfect.” He mused for a moment looking down and picking at a loose piece of wool on his t-shirt, brows furrowed.

“Well, it tastes perfect to me.” Justine smiled. Greg looked up at her, a shy smile creeping across his soft plump lips.

This was a smile Justine had not witnessed on Greg before, and it had instantly just become her favourite.