Adrian stirred in his hospital bed, his body feeling as if it had been weighed down by bricks. The remnants of his fever left him with a dull ache in his head, and his throat burned with a painful dryness.
Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and he tried to make sense of his surroundings. His vision was hazy, and everything felt slightly off. For a moment, he thought he might still be dreaming.
He shifted, and a faint groan escaped his lips. Almost instinctively, his parched throat whispered, "Water…"
Immediately, a gentle voice responded. "Here, drink this." A cool hand helped prop him up as a glass of water was pressed to his lips.
Adrian drank greedily, the cool liquid soothing his burning throat. The sensation was blissful, and he didn't fully register what was happening until the glass was taken away. Slowly, his awareness sharpened, and he blinked up at the two unfamiliar figures standing by his bed.
"Are you feeling better now?" the same gentle voice asked.
Adrian's brows furrowed as he realized that the person before him was a stranger—at least to him. A man, probably in his early thirties, with kind eyes and a gentle expression, was seated beside the bed. Beside him, there was another figure—this one sitting in a wheelchair. The second man had a regal presence, his posture graceful yet authoritative, his gaze sharp but not unkind.
Adrian froze for a moment, the remnants of his fever-induced confusion clouding his thoughts. Who were these people?
Sensing Adrian's confusion, the man who had given him the water spoke again, his voice calming and soft. "Ah, I'm sorry. You must be wondering who we are. I'm Augustin Devereux, and this is Leclair Levidis. We're here to check on you—and Ethan."
Adrian's eyes widened slightly in recognition. Leclair Levidis, Ethan's older brother. And this must be his husband, Augustin. He'd heard about them, of course, but had never imagined they would show up here, especially not like this. His face flushed, a wave of embarrassment sweeping over him as he realized he wasn't exactly in the best state to be receiving guests.
"I… I'm so sorry," Adrian said, his voice raspy. "I didn't know anyone would be visiting. I'm not—"
Augustin held up a hand, smiling gently. "There's no need to apologize, Adrian. You've been through quite a bit yourself. If anything, we should be the ones apologizing."
"Apologizing?" Adrian frowned, his voice thick with confusion.
Leclair, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. His voice was calm but held an underlying firmness that commanded attention. "We should have been here sooner. It seems no one has been taking proper care of you, and that is unacceptable."
Adrian shook his head quickly. "No, no. It's not your responsibility. I mean, it's my choice to stay here with Ethan… I'm fine."
Leclair's gaze softened, but there was a hint of admonishment in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly in his wheelchair. "Adrian, you're family now. You married Ethan, which means you're not alone in this. It's our responsibility to look after you, just as it is to look after Ethan."
Adrian blinked, his chest tightening at Leclair's words. Family. The word seemed so foreign to him. He had been so focused on Ethan and the complex web of emotions surrounding their forced marriage that he hadn't fully grasped the idea of becoming part of Ethan's family. And yet here were Leclair and Augustin, treating him as if he truly belonged.
Leclair's next words, however, caught Adrian off guard. "What would Ethan think if he woke up and found out his elder brother failed to take care of his husband?"
Adrian instinctively looked toward Ethan's body, lying still and silent in the hospital bed. A pang of sorrow struck his heart as he stared at Ethan's unmoving figure. What would Ethan think, indeed? He couldn't help but wonder. Would Ethan be angry? Indifferent? Or… would he even care?
Adrian's gaze lingered on Ethan's face for a moment longer, but then something strange happened. His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat. He blinked, unsure if what he was seeing was real or just a remnant of his fevered state.
There, standing beside Ethan's body, was Ethan—but not quite. It wasn't the Ethan he knew, lying motionless on the bed. No, this Ethan was different. He was standing, but his form was translucent, a faint glow surrounding him like the softest of lights. His expression was calm, his eyes filled with concern and something else that Adrian couldn't quite place.
Adrian's pulse quickened as he looked between Ethan's physical body and the glowing apparition beside it. Was he hallucinating? Was this some fever-induced vision? He swallowed hard, trying to make sense of it all, but the more he stared, the more convinced he became that this was not a trick of his imagination.
Ethan's soul. That had to be it.
Adrian's heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge what he was seeing, but how could he? What if Augustin and Leclair thought he had lost his mind?
For a split second, Ethan's soul turned toward him, their eyes meeting. There was a flash of recognition in those ghostly eyes—an acknowledgment that seemed to pass between them. Ethan, or whatever part of Ethan this was, knew that Adrian could see him.
Adrian's breath hitched, but before he could say anything, he quickly looked away, focusing on Augustin and Leclair as if nothing had happened.
"I'm fine, really," Adrian said, forcing a smile, though his heart still raced from the shock of what he had witnessed. "Thank you for coming to check on me, but I'll be alright. You two must be busy, so don't worry about me."
Augustin shook his head. "We're not leaving until we're sure you're feeling better," he said firmly. "You've been through enough already. The least we can do is make sure you're comfortable."
Leclair, despite his earlier anger at the nurses, gave Adrian a softer look. "We'll leave soon if you need rest, but if there's anything else you need, you can ask us. You don't have to do everything alone."
Adrian nodded, appreciating their kindness, but his mind was still spinning from the sight of Ethan's soul. He glanced toward the bed again, but Ethan's ghostly form was no longer visible. Had he imagined it? Was his fever playing tricks on him? The whole encounter had felt surreal, but somehow, deep down, Adrian knew it wasn't just a dream.
After a few more moments of light conversation, Augustin and Leclair began to gather their things. Augustin gently laid a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "Please, take care of yourself. We'll be back to check on you and Ethan soon."
"Thank you," Adrian murmured, his voice quiet as they prepared to leave. He wanted to say more, to thank them properly for their kindness, but the weight of what he had just experienced was too much for him to process all at once.
As Leclair and Augustin made their way toward the door, Adrian's heart began to race again.
The door closed softly behind them, and the room fell into an eerie silence once more. Adrian let out a long, shaky breath, his hand instinctively rising to his chest, where his heart continued to pound.
He slowly turned his gaze back toward Ethan's body. The stillness of the hospital ward felt oppressive now, almost as if it were waiting for something to happen. For a moment, Adrian hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to see Ethan's soul again—unsure if he could handle it.
But the room remained silent. No glowing figure appeared. No voice called out to him. All that remained was the quiet hum of the machines and the steady rhythm of Ethan's breathing.
Adrian closed his eyes, trying to steady himself. His fever might have broken, but his mind was still a whirlwind of emotions. Everything was changing—Ethan, his marriage, this strange connection to the man's soul.
Adrian touched his lips absentmindedly, recalling the feel of Ethan's kiss from his dream. A flush of warmth spread across his cheeks. This wasn't just about a marriage of convenience anymore. Things were growing more complicated—more intense.