Raya drove through the darkened streets with a sense of urgency, the city's familiar skyline a blur as she focused on getting to Elanor's apartment as quickly as possible. The night was unusually quiet, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional flicker of streetlights adding to the eerie stillness that seemed to hang in the air. Her heart pounded in her chest, the worry that had gripped her since their phone call intensifying with each passing minute.
The image of Elanor lying on his couch, sick and alone, replayed in her mind, fueling her determination. She had known he was unwell the moment she heard his voice on the phone, the usually calm and collected tone replaced by something strained and weak. He had tried to downplay it, as he always did, but Raya had known better. She had seen Elanor push himself too far before, ignoring his own needs in favor of his work, and she wasn't about to let him do it again.
When she finally pulled up outside his apartment building, she parked haphazardly and grabbed the small overnight bag she had thrown together in a hurry. It wasn't much—just a few essentials, some extra clothes, and a small first-aid kit—but it was better than nothing. She hurried up the stairs, her thoughts racing as she tried to prepare herself for what she might find.
Elanor had always been independent, sometimes to a fault. He had a tendency to retreat into himself, to bury his emotions beneath layers of logic and science, and it was rare for him to show vulnerability. But Raya knew that beneath the stoic exterior was a man who cared deeply, who felt things more intensely than he let on. And tonight, that man was sick and alone, and she wasn't going to let him face it without her.
When she reached his door, Raya hesitated for just a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She knew Elanor's stubbornness well enough to expect resistance, but tonight was different. Tonight, he needed her, whether he would admit it or not.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, her heart sinking at the sight that greeted her. The apartment was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. The air was heavy, filled with the faint scent of sickness and the subtle undertone of feverish sweat. Elanor lay on the couch, curled up under a thin blanket, his face pale and drawn. He was shivering uncontrollably, his body wracked by violent coughs that seemed to tear through him with every breath.
"Oh, Elanor..." Raya whispered, her voice thick with concern as she crossed the room to his side. She knelt beside the couch, gently brushing a strand of damp hair away from his forehead. His skin was burning hot to the touch, and she could feel the tremors running through him like tiny earthquakes.
"Elanor, wake up," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. But he didn't stir, his eyes remaining closed, his breathing labored and uneven. The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so unlike the strong, composed man she knew—made her chest tighten with worry.
She knew she had to get him into bed, where he could be more comfortable, but the thought of moving him on her own was daunting. Elanor was much taller and stronger than she was, and in his current state, he would be dead weight. But leaving him on the couch, shivering and struggling to breathe, wasn't an option.
Summoning all the strength she had, Raya carefully slipped her arms under his and began to lift him. He was heavier than she had anticipated, his body limp with exhaustion, and it took all of her effort to get him into a sitting position. She gritted her teeth, determined to get him to the bedroom no matter what.
"Come on, Elanor," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "Just a little more..."
With a grunt of effort, Raya managed to stand, supporting Elanor's weight as she guided him toward the bedroom. He mumbled something incoherent as she half-dragged, half-carried him across the room, his head lolling against her shoulder. She could feel the heat radiating off him in waves, and every step felt like a struggle against his dead weight.
As they reached the bedroom door, Elanor's head dipped forward, his breath hot against her neck. "Raya... her smell..." he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the words were unmistakable.
Raya's breath caught in her throat, a flush of warmth rising to her cheeks. She hadn't expected him to say anything, least of all something so intimate. For a moment, she paused, her heart pounding in her chest as she processed his words. But there was no time to dwell on it—Elanor needed to be in bed, and she couldn't afford to let her emotions get the better of her.
With a final burst of effort, Raya managed to get Elanor into the bedroom. She eased him down onto the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight as she gently laid him back against the pillows. He was still shivering, his breathing shallow and erratic, and she could see the lines of pain etched into his face.
Raya quickly pulled the blanket up over him, tucking it in around his shoulders to keep him warm. She could see that he was still restless, his body fighting the fever that had taken hold of him, and she knew she had to do something to make him more comfortable.
She hurried to the bathroom, her footsteps soft on the hardwood floor as she grabbed a towel and ran it under warm water. Her mind was racing, her thoughts a jumble of worry and determination as she wrung out the towel and returned to the bedroom.
Elanor was mumbling again, his words slurred and barely coherent as she approached the bed. "Raya... I miss you... I'm sorry... I'm sorry for ruining it..."
The words hit Raya like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through her like a knife. She had known Elanor for years, had seen him at his best and his worst, but she had never heard him speak like this—so vulnerable, so full of regret. The tears she had been holding back threatened to spill over, but she blinked them away, forcing herself to stay focused on the task at hand.
She gently dabbed the warm towel against his forehead, wiping away the sweat that had collected there. His skin was still hot, but the warmth of the towel seemed to soothe him, and his breathing began to even out slightly. She worked in silence, her movements careful and deliberate as she cleaned his face, her touch as gentle as she could make it.
When she was finished, Raya set the towel aside and turned her attention to Elanor's clothes. His shirt was damp with sweat, clinging to his fevered skin, and she knew he needed to be in something dry and comfortable. She hesitated for a moment, the intimacy of the situation suddenly hitting her, but there was no one else to do it—Elanor needed her, and she wasn't going to let him down.
With trembling hands, Raya carefully unbuttoned his shirt, trying to keep her touch light and clinical. She had seen Elanor shirtless before, of course—back in college, during their time at the tech fest when they had gone swimming—but this felt different. This was a moment of vulnerability, of trust, and it made her heart ache for the man lying before her.
Once she had removed his shirt, Raya quickly grabbed a fresh one from his closet, pulling it over his head with as much care as she could manage. Elanor stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment before closing again, but he didn't seem fully aware of what was happening. He was lost in his fevered state, his mind far from the present reality.
"There," Raya murmured, smoothing the fabric of his shirt as she tucked him back into bed. "You're going to be okay, Elanor. I'm here."
She sat down on the edge of the bed, her gaze lingering on his face as he settled into the pillows. The shivering had lessened, but he was still far from comfortable, his body fighting the fever that gripped him. Raya felt a surge of helplessness—there was only so much she could do, and the rest was up to his body to fight off the illness.
As she sat there, watching over him, Raya couldn't help but think about the past—about the moments they had shared, the connection they had once had. She remembered the long nights they had spent talking about everything under the stars, the way Elanor's eyes had lit up when he talked about the mysteries of the universe. She remembered the way he had made her feel—like she was the only person in the world who understood him, who could see past the layers of logic and science to the heart of who he was.
But those days had been fleeting, overshadowed by the pressures of life and the distance they had allowed to grow between them. Raya had tried to move on, to focus on her own life and career, but there had always been a part of her that missed Elanor—missed the man he had been, and the man she had hoped he could become.
"I wish I had told you," Raya whispered into the quiet room, her voice barely more than a breath. "I wish I had told you how much you meant to me... how much you still mean to me."
The words hung in the air, unspoken for so long but finally finding their way out in the stillness of the night. Raya knew that Elanor couldn't hear her, that
he was lost in his fevered dreams, but it didn't matter. Saying the words aloud, even if only to herself, felt like a weight lifting off her chest.
She reached out, gently taking Elanor's hand in hers, threading her fingers through his. His hand was warm, the pulse beneath her fingertips steady and strong, and she felt a small measure of comfort in the simple connection. It was a reminder that he was still here, still fighting, and that she wasn't alone in this.
As the minutes ticked by, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with Raya. She hadn't realized how tired she was until now, the adrenaline that had carried her this far finally wearing off. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before she knew it, she had laid her head down on Elanor's chest, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breath.
The sound was soothing, a steady rhythm that lulled her into a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time. She could hear the faint thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear, a quiet reminder of the life that pulsed through him, and it made her feel connected to him in a way she hadn't felt in years.
As she drifted off to sleep, memories began to surface—fragments of their past that she had tried to push aside, but that now came rushing back in the quiet of the night.
She remembered the first time they had met at that college tech fest. Elanor had been so quiet, so focused on his work, but there had been something about him that had drawn her in. She had admired his passion, his dedication, and the way he could lose himself in the wonders of the universe. They had spent hours talking about everything and nothing, their connection deepening with each conversation.
She remembered the nights they had spent stargazing, lying side by side on a blanket in the middle of a field, the sky stretched out above them like a vast, uncharted sea. Elanor had pointed out constellations, his voice filled with wonder as he described the mysteries hidden in the stars, and Raya had listened, captivated not just by the words but by the man who spoke them.
But somewhere along the way, things had gone wrong. The pressures of life, of their own ambitions, had pulled them apart, and neither of them had known how to bridge the gap. They had drifted, each lost in their own world, until the distance between them had become too great.
"I wish I had been braver," Raya thought as sleep began to claim her. "I wish I had told you how much you meant to me, how much I wanted us to stay together..."
She had never been able to say it back then, afraid that it might complicate things, that it might change the dynamic they had. But now, with Elanor lying sick beside her, all those fears seemed distant and irrelevant. All that mattered was that they had found each other again, and that maybe, just maybe, they could start over.
As sleep finally claimed her, Raya's last thought was of the future—of the possibilities that lay ahead, and of the hope that they could build something new from the ashes of what had been lost.