As the rain stopped, Yvienna was still sleeping soundly. Kyle couldn't help but glance at her, his heart fluttering at the sight. What a beauty she was. Her face looked so peaceful, so kind, like she didn't have a care in the world. But then, her brows furrowed as if she were caught in a nightmare.
Without thinking, Kyle reached out and placed his palm on her forehead.
"Oh, shit," he muttered. Her skin was burning hot—she had a fever.
There was no time to waste. Carefully, he slipped his arms under her and lifted her in a bridal style, taking extra care not to wake her. His movements were swift but cautious as he made his way to his secret room within the campus. This room was his private sanctuary, a space his grandfather had gifted him during childhood to keep him and his friends from wandering too far during vacant hours. Only a handful of people even knew it existed.
When he arrived, he pushed the door open and gently placed Yvienna on the couch. Her breathing was uneven, her face flushed. Kyle wasted no time hurrying to the small kitchen, fetching a basin and a towel. He soaked the cloth in cool water and returned to her side, wiping her face gently before folding the towel and placing it on her forehead.
As he tucked a blanket over her, his eyes drifted to her damp blouse. She was trembling, her body chilled from the rain. He rummaged through his closet, pulling out a spare shirt, and then hesitated.
Kyle tapped his phone and quickly dialed.
"Hello, Andrew. Do you know where Tiffany is?" he asked, urgency in his tone.
There was a pause on the other end before Andrew replied hesitantly, "Uh... I don't know."
Kyle's patience wore thin. "What do you mean you don't know? We just had class, didn't we?"
Andrew coughed awkwardly. "What do you need her for? She's not here."
Kyle exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Forget it. Just bring me fever medicine, two liters of water, and porridge with an egg. Bring it to the hangout room. Now." He ended the call before Andrew could protest.
Turning back to Yvienna, Kyle frowned. She was trembling, her breathing uneven. He glanced at the spare shirt in his hands and hesitated again. He grabbed a handkerchief, blindfolded himself, and reached for the hem of her blouse. His hands trembled as doubt clawed at him. He needed to help her change her clothes without waking her. To maintain her dignity, he decided to blindfold himself, ensuring he wouldn't accidentally see anything inappropriate. It was only her blouse he had to remove, replacing it with a clean shirt—but even so, he wanted to be respectful.
What if she wakes up and hates me for this?
Frustrated with himself, Kyle ripped off the blindfold and leaned over to gently shake her shoulder. "Yvienna," he called softly.
She stirred, her eyes opening halfway. "Hmm?"
"Wake up. You need to change your clothes. You're freezing." He averted his gaze, his voice soft but firm.
Yvienna blinked at him, confusion clouding her face. She looked down at her damp blouse, realization dawning, and quickly sat up.
"Hey, careful. You've got a fever," Kyle said, handing her the spare shirt. "Change into this. I'll turn away."
Weakly, she nodded and accepted the shirt. Kyle turned his back, giving her privacy, his ears alert for any signs of trouble.
"Done," she murmured after a moment.
He turned back, relief flashing across his face. "Good. Check your temperature," he said, handing her a thermometer.
As Yvienna complied, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Andrew's irritated voice. "Why the hell are you ordering me around like I'm your employee?"
The door opened, and Andrew froze in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight of Yvienna lying on the couch. "W-why is she here?"
"Because I'm not there," Yvienna mumbled, her voice faint but teasing as she handed Kyle the thermometer.
Kyle's brow furrowed as he read it. "Thirty-nine degrees. Too high." He turned to Andrew, grabbing the bag he carried. "Thanks. I'll take it from here."
Kyle set the porridge and water on the table, then guided Yvienna to sit. "Eat first. You need this."
"I can manage on my ow—"
"No buts," Kyle interrupted firmly. "This is my fault, and I'm taking responsibility."
Yvienna opened her mouth to protest again, but Kyle pointed to the porridge. She sighed, reluctantly picking up the spoon and taking a bite.
Andrew, still standing by the door in shock, stammered, "I-I'm gonna leave. Bye!"
Kyle shook his head and grabbed Yvienna's wet blouse from the couch.
"I'll wash this," he said, heading toward the washing machine.
"N-no, I can do it—"
"Just finish your meal," he insisted, not giving her a chance to argue.
Yvienna watched him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Why are you so kind?" she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Kyle didn't hear her, too focused on his task. When he noticed her trembling again, he quickly turned down the air conditioning and fetched a hoodie from his closet.
"Here," he said, draping the black hoodie over her shoulders.
Yvienna blinked at him, curiosity sparking in her tired eyes. "Where is this place?"
Kyle hesitated, then smiled. "It's a private room for me and my friends. My grandfather built it for us when I was a kid. He didn't want me wandering off when we had free time, so he granted my wish for a hangout spot."
Yvienna's eyes widened. "A whole room just for that? Must be nice to be rich."
Kyle chuckled softly, then placed his hand on her forehead again. "Drink your medicine," he instructed, his tone gentle but firm.
As he moved to the window, the rain outside suddenly intensified, pouring heavily. Kyle sighed, his gaze distant.
"We might have to stay here longer. It's too dangerous to drive in this weather. You can sleep in my room; I'll stay here on the couch."