"Yes, you're not bad at all," Marco said, his eyes glinting with a fierce intensity as he looked Rafael up and down.
Rain clung to Rafael's body, the dampness outlining his frail chest. His tiny nipples pressed tightly against his wet shirt, and his pink lips quivered with the cold.
As Marco observed him, a fire ignited within, a thrilling sense of possession surging through him. His body reacted instinctively, the desire to claim Rafael as his own evident in every glance.
"Indeed," Marco repeated, extending his hand toward Rafael, offering assistance.
Rafael stared at him, his mind a confused tangle of thoughts. Despite his weakened state, he felt an inexplicable connection with Marco.
As he watched Marco tower over him, Rafael was acutely aware of the difference in their status. Marco's eyes were sharp and focused, filled with a desire that both confused and intrigued Rafael.
'Does he feel something for me too?' Rafael wondered, his trembling lips curling into a tentative smile.
Hesitantly, he placed his small palm in Marco's outstretched hand, finding unexpected warmth and reassurance in the gesture.
The sensation was comforting. Marco's large hand enveloped his own, warding off the chill and silently promising to handle his problems. It was as if Marco was telling him to relax, to trust that everything would be alright.
But Rafael knew better than to trust appearances. Don Marco was not an easy man, and there was undoubtedly more to his intentions.
"Achoo!" Rafael sneezed loudly, mucus building up in his throat as he reached a hand to his nose.
His eyes darted to the figure seated opposite him in the car. Though physically close, the emotional distance between them felt vast. Rafael longed for the warmth of Marco's touch again, instead of the space that now lay between them.
"I'm sorry for bothering you," Rafael broke the silence, his voice tentative.
"Sorry?" Marco's tone was sharp with barely concealed irritation.
'He's angry,' Rafael thought, stealing a glance at Marco. 'But why?'
"I shouldn't have come without being summoned," Rafael offered in explanation.
"Oh…that?" Marco replied dismissively, his gaze fixed on the raindrops trickling down the window. The storm was subsiding, leaving only a gentle drizzle.
"I'm not angry at you. It's myself I'm frustrated with. I would've been annoyed if I had lost something I just acquired," Marco admitted. "I hate losing new things without testing them."
"Ah…oh…" Rafael felt awkward, unable to fully grasp Marco's cryptic words. Was he the 'thing' Marco referred to? The back seat fell into silence once more, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
The car door opened, and Marco stepped out, his polished shoes splashing into a puddle. Water rippled out as he strode away, leaving Rafael to follow.
Rafael sneezed again, his head heavy with fever as he staggered, barely managing to steady himself against the car door. He followed Marco, his vision blurring as Marco's figure split into two.
Voices sounded distorted as he walked, and suddenly, his face met the pavement, and everything went black.
"So, who the hell didn't let him in?" Rafael heard Marco's angry voice echoing as he drifted in and out of consciousness.
"It's because of the meeting we had. I wouldn't blame the guards; they were just doing their jobs," Patrick defended.
"Oh…so I should thank the guards?" Marco replied sarcastically, turning his attention back to Rafael, whose temperature was climbing with each passing minute.
"When will the doctor arrive?" Marco demanded.
"The doctor can't come here, so I've administered the necessary medication. He'll be fine," Patrick reassured him.
"Fine then," Marco said, marching out of the room.
Hours later, Rafael awoke. The room's lights flickered, and he struggled to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a large, well-furnished room; not his own.
"Oh…right. I came to meet Marco and then…?" He tried hard to piece together the fragments of his memory, placing a hand on his aching head.
And then it hit him.
"Don't tell me I fainted in front of Don Marco!" he exclaimed, mortified by the realization.
His head snapped around the room, and he leaped out of bed, his bare skin tingling in the cool air.
"What the hell!" he exclaimed, shocked to find himself dressed in nightwear, tucked in a huge blanket.
Apart from waking up feeling okay, the oppressive heat that suffocated him added to his discomfort, making him initially think he was in a furnace. After a few calming thoughts to himself, he managed to open his eyes and realize he was wrapped up warmly.
But that was the least of his worries.
"Who the hell dressed me?!" he exclaimed, looking himself over in disbelief.
Rafael saw his luggage in one corner of the room and moved toward it. He picked out his toiletries and materials needed to take a good bath.
Just as he was about to undress, he froze, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching. The door opened abruptly, catching him off guard.
"Who the hell is that?!" Rafael exclaimed, but his voice trailed off as he saw the intruder.
It was Don Marco, but what was he doing in his room at this time? Didn't he have work to do?!
Rafael scrambled to cover himself, quickly pulling his shorts back on and wrapping the blanket around him.
"Oh…what a surprise, my doctor is awake," Marco said as he entered the room fully.
"I'm sorry about fainting," Rafael apologized, bowing his head in regret. "I shouldn't have come without being sent for."
"Oh…now you know," Marco said curtly, stepping closer to Rafael, closing the distance between them.
"So, now that you became the patient instead of the doctor, how will you repay me?" Marco asked, their proximity causing Rafael to breathe unevenly and avoid Marco's gaze.
He was forced to look up as Marco used his sleek fingers to lift Rafael's chin.
"One might say there are words in the eyes," Marco said with a grin.
"I asked, how will you repay me?" Marco repeated.
"I…I…" Rafael stammered, unable to find the words, but what he felt next only heightened his confusion.
He could feel something hard pressing against him—a thick, undeniable presence.
Instead of addressing the question, he blurted out what was on his mind. "Did you bring your morning wood to meet me? I can't treat that!"
"You can't?" Marco said, a hint of disappointment crossing his face, which only confused Rafael more.
'What does he want? What does he mean?' Rafael wondered, struggling to make sense of Marco's words, which only grew stranger by the moment.
"What's your mouth for, then?" Marco asked, putting forth a provocative question.