18 Cold

I blinked rapidly at the unexpected situation. I finally recognized what was blocking my view. It was a large hand holding a takeaway cup.

What in the world?

The hand moved away again and I took the opportunity to quickly sit up, my earlier laziness already forgotten. Ethan was crouching on one knee in front of me with his face stretched into a grin.

"Have some coffee," he handed me the cup and my hands moved to grab it before my brain registered the action.

Traitors.

It was hot and there was still a little bit of steam coming out from the small opening in the cover. The heat of it was engulfed by my cold hands which gave a much needed warmth. I didn't even notice that the temperature went down already. I was wearing a coat but I was lying on the grass without care.

"Why are you still here?" I asked, wondering if he had been waiting for hours outside.

Something fluttered unsettlingly in my stomach.

He shrugged then said, "I thought someone must've been freezing here without care so I brought coffee."

His reply didn't quite answer my question but I didn't insist since he would probably just evade them all if he wanted to like he usually does.

I glanced at the coffee cup instead and muttered longingly, "This is going to be my fourth cup of coffee though."

"It's decaffeinated," he commented.

"That's blasphemy!" I exclaimed in horror.

He laughed loudly, the happy sound spreading around us. The tight feeling inside me seemed to loosen in response and I found myself thoroughly distracted at the sight of him that was just being carefree.

He stopped abruptly and reached toward my direction. My heart thudded unusually as his hand slowly neared.

Again?

Thump. Thump. Thump

This time it was going fast.

Do I have arrhythmia?

"You've got something in your hair," he murmured, then smiled as he blew away the leaf in his hand.

I released the breath I didn't even realize I was holding. His eyes had that same twinkle like the stars I saw just moments ago. It made me just want to look at them in fascination.

"Let's go?" He asked, after noticing I was just staring into space.

I stood up and nodded after looking back at the tombstone with a smile.

It was still winter but I woke up, feeling stuffy from the heat. I wanted to get up but my body felt heavy and my nose was all clogged up and breathing was uncomfortable. I looked at the window and I noticed that it was still dark.

Did I walk up too early?

My gaze was attracted to the weak light emitting from the lamp beside my bed which I always turn off before sleeping. However, when I turned my head and looked over I saw someone in a chair at the side, holding an open Economics book but asleep. I blinked blearily and tried to make out the features.

Oh, it was Ethan.

Huh?!

I sat up lightning fast which made me dizzy for a few seconds. My sudden move woke him up and the book fell from his grasp but it was ignored as he gazed at me with an emotion I can't seem to recognize.

"You're finally awake," he spoke softly while a hand moved to touch my neck without any qualms. My face felt hot when the rough surface of his hand descended.

"Your temperature has gone down but you're still feverish," he frowned without really looking at me while my sluggish brain tried to process what kind of situation this is.

I looked in bewilderment as he fiddled with something which looked like a cooling sheet. Before, I even managed to muster a semblance of protest, he already removed the one in my forehead that I didn't even notice and replaced it with a new one.

"What time is it?" I asked, finally finding my voice.

"6 pm, Boss," he quipped.

"I missed work," I muttered, my voice was hoarse and my throat felt sore. It had been a long time since I was absent unless it was business-related.

"This proves that you're still human. With the way you're working, I would have thought you didn't know how to be tired. Not to mention, you spent hours outside in the cold yesterday," He responded, pushing my shoulders back to lie back down.

"You trespassed on my apartment again," I grumbled drowsily once I felt the comfort of my pillows.

He shrugged with innocence, "I had no choice. I was waiting for you to come downstairs and I also tried to call you but you weren't answering. I waited two hours then I rang your doorbell but there was also no response so I went inside and found you burning up."

"You're forgiven this time," I whispered, my consciousness already drifting back to sleep. Comforted that there was someone beside me.

I woke back up to find that no one else but me was inside the room. I blinked and got up slowly since I felt thirsty. I opened the door and followed the sounds I kept hearing.

I was dragging my feet quietly as I crossed the room since I was still a bit groggy from the headache. I traced the source of the noise to the kitchen and found Ethan, in his white dress shirt without his coat and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, busy with the stove.

Coincidentally, Ethan turned around and saw me. He immediately went to my side and pressed his hand to my head and neck this time.

"Looks like you don't have any fever anymore. However, make sure to drink your medicine for your cold," He nodded in satisfaction.

He led me to the counter to sit while saying, "You don't have any ingredients here at all for cooking so I went down and grabbed some groceries. You didn't eat anything all day so I cooked porridge since it's easier for your stomach. Drink your medicine after eating."

He took out a bowl and ladled porridge on it. The delicious smell stimulated my appetite. He set the bowl in front of me with a spoon and added a glass of water beside it.

I didn't know what to think of this weird situation. My driver, albeit temporary, was taking care of me right now. My head still felt fogged up so any rational thinking was off the table. I somehow just found myself asking.

"Why are you doing this?" I finally said, sniffling from the cold.

He stared at me for a moment. His eyes looked like they were searching for something I couldn't fathom. He put his hands, far apart from each other, on the edge of the counter and leaned on it. His face was closer now but wasn't inside my personal space.

After what felt like ages, he said, "I don't think you're ready to know. I'll tell you when you are."

I felt speechless and had a strong urge to wipe off that smirk off his face but he moved away soon after.

Frowning, my head automatically followed his movements across the room. He picked up his coat from the sofa.

With his coat in his hands, he stopped in front of me again, "I'll take my leave since you're better now. Don't forget to drink your medicine. Get well soon, Boss. Good night."

After uttering those words, he strode towards the door while I followed behind him in a rush.

"Wait," my throat protested from the sudden shout.

Unsteady on my feet, I almost fell down if it wasn't for him supporting my arms when he turned around after I shouted to get his attention. The unexpected proximity stole my breath for a moment.

"I wanted to say thank you," my words barely a whisper while I looked up to his face that I couldn't read. My emotions couldn't seem to decide between embarrassment and bewilderment.

After I spoke, he released my arms and made sure I was steady on my feet while flashing a disarming grin.

"See you tomorrow, Boss."

He was gone for a few minutes already but I was still standing in front of the door. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous during that time when I almost fell down.

Was it because I was sick and feeling weak today?

He saw me when I was vulnerable and I don't know what to feel about it. I wiped a hand in my face and decided to just stop thinking about it for the moment. I was about to return to the kitchen when I suddenly caught my reflection in the mirror on the wall before the door.

Oh God.

My hair looks like a bird's nest.

How embarrassing . . .