Tina's body burned with fever, her delicate frame trembling as she lay weakly on the bed. The sheets clung to her damp skin, the fabric wrinkled and tangled from her restless movements. Her black hair, usually so sleek and shiny, was now a tangled mess, plastered to her flushed cheeks and neck. The room felt stifling, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and the faint metallic tang of illness. She stirred slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, cracked and fragile.
"It's hot…" she murmured, her breath shallow and uneven, as if each word cost her dearly.
A cool hand pressed against her forehead, fingers brushing gently over her heated skin. The touch was firm yet filled with concern, a stark contrast to the fever raging within her. Jim's deep blue eyes darkened with worry as he knelt beside her, his broad shoulders tense. His other hand hovered uncertainly, as if he wanted to do more but didn't know how.
"Her temperature is so high," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and strained. "She's completely exhausted…"
Frustration welled up inside him, tightening his chest and making his jaw clench. "I was only gone for two days… and she pushed herself to this point?" His gaze swept over her fragile form, taking in the way her collarbones jutted out sharply, the way her hands trembled even in sleep. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and it tore him apart from inside.
Tina's eyelids fluttered open slightly, her vision hazy and unfocused. She barely registered the intense expression on Jim's face, the way his brows were drawn together in a mix of anger and fear.
"Why… are you… angry?" she asked weakly, her voice barely audible, like the rustle of dry leaves.
Jim exhaled sharply, his irritation laced with worry. "I'm angry at you for making yourself terrible!" His voice was firm, yet there was a softness behind his words, an emotion he rarely revealed, one that betrayed just how much he cared.
Without another word, he scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest. The warmth of his body was steady, grounding, as he carried her effortlessly, his movements deliberate. Tina's head stick against his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck. She felt so light in his arms, as if a strong gust of wind might carry her away.
"Let's go," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Tina barely had the strength to protest. Her head rested against him as he strode out with determined steps, the rain outside falling gently, its rhythmic patter a soothing counterpoint to the tension in the air.
"I'm taking you to the hospital," he said, his voice resolute.
But Tina's body stiffened, and she coughed weakly, her trembling hands pushing feebly against his chest. "I don't want to go to the hospital…" she gasped, her voice hoarse and desperate. "I won't go there…"
Jim's expression darkened, his frustration evident. "You've got such a high fever! You must go to the hospital!" he snapped, his voice filled with both concern and urgency.
Tina shook her head violently, tears welling up in her fevered eyes. "No… I don't want to go to the hospital… No…" Her voice broke, and her body trembled as memories she had tried so hard to suppress surfaced once again. Her fingers clenched the fabric of Jim's shirt, her nails digging in as if anchoring herself to him.
"Mom… Mom just slept there… and never woke up again…" she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief.
Jim's grip tightened ever so slightly, his sharp gaze softening as he looked at her. Understanding dawned in his eyes, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. She wasn't just scared of the hospital. She was terrified of what it represented, loss, helplessness, and a pain that never truly healed.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. Jim's jaw tightened as he gazed down at her fragile form, his mind racing. She was burning up, her body too weak to fight off whatever illness had taken hold. A gust of wind cut through the night, making Tina shudder, and Jim's resolve hardened.
"You can't stay here anymore," he said firmly, his voice low and steady. "I'll take care of you. But you have to trust me."
Tina's body trembled in his arms, her fevered skin pale against the evening chill. Her breaths came in weak gasps as she clung to his shirt, her fingers trembling. "Don't go… don't leave me…" she murmured, her fevered breath warm against his skin.
His grip on her hand tightened, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion. "I won't go. I won't leave…" he reassured her, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.
He watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing shallow and uneven. 'She needs food… medicine… something to regain her strength'. But then reality struck him.
'I can't cook…'
A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as he clenched his fists. He had to do something, anything. His mind raced until an idea sparked in his eyes.
"Yes! There's a way!"
Determination flared in his chest. He wouldn't fail her. Not now.
.........…..
Jim paced anxiously near the door, his fingers tapping restlessly against his sleeve. The room felt suffocating, each passing second stretching unbearably. Then, at last.
[RING!]
He rushed forward, yanking the door open. "Here you are, Silvia!" he exclaimed, relief washing over him at the sight of her.
Silvia stepped inside, her violet eyes sharp with concern. "What's wrong with you, Jim?" she asked, her tone firm yet laced with worry.
Without waiting for an answer, she lifted the white and red medical kit in her hand. "I brought the medicine cabinet!"
Jim exhaled, his tension easing ever so slightly. A rescuer had arrived.
Silvia's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the unconscious girl before her. 'This girl is…'
She didn't finish the thought, but something about the girl's fragile form struck her deeply. The way her dark lashes fanned against her pale cheeks, the way her lips were slightly parted as if caught in a silent plea, it was haunting.
A sudden voice pulled her attention away.
"She's the most important person to me," Jim said, his voice filled with urgency.
Silvia turned to him, eyes widening. There was something desperate in his gaze, something she had never seen before.
"Silvia, help me."
For a moment, she hesitated, gripping the red medical case in her hands. Then, with a determined nod, she stepped forward. "Let's get to work."