I waited until Louise left the room, the door clicking softly behind her, leaving me alone with Ivy. The silence settled in, heavy, and I glanced down at the bed—my bed. Ivy lay there, her pale face flushed from the fever, her breathing slow and shallow. The cold compress Louise had left behind rested on her forehead, but she still looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that tugged at something deep inside me.
I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Ivy was in my bed. She needed rest, needed to recover, but the thought of sleeping beside her felt... foreign. Intimate in a way I wasn't used to.
My eyes traced her delicate features, the way her lips parted slightly as she slept, her fingers twitching against the sheets. I swallowed hard. I hadn't done anything like this before. Sharing a bed with someone... it was more than just physical proximity. There was trust involved. Vulnerability. And right now, Ivy was both of those things, and I had no idea how to handle it.
But then I remembered how she'd clung to me earlier, her feverish whispers and desperate plea not to leave her. She might need help again—water, medicine, something to soothe her in the middle of the night. And I couldn't just leave her alone, could I?
I paced the room for a minute, raking my fingers through my hair again, trying to work out my unease. I wasn't exactly known for handling emotions well, and this... this was a whole new level of confusing. After what felt like an eternity of overthinking, I finally sighed, glancing back at the bed.
It's fine, Alex. It's just for tonight. You're not doing anything wrong.
I hesitated for a second longer, then slowly—very slowly—slid into bed beside her. I kept as much distance as possible between us, lying on my back, stiff as a board. The cool sheets felt strange against my skin, especially with Ivy so close. I turned my head slightly, watching her sleep, my heart racing in a way that felt ridiculous. She was asleep, feverish, and here I was, overthinking everything.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. I wasn't sure. My mind wouldn't shut off, the tension in my body making it impossible to relax. I thought about getting up, maybe grabbing a pillow and sleeping on the floor instead. But then, just as I was about to make a move, I felt it.
A small tremor ran through her body. I froze, my eyes snapping to her. Ivy's brows furrowed, her breath hitching, and before I could react, her hand shot out, clutching the fabric of my shirt tightly.
I stiffened.
Her fingers curled into the fabric, pulling me closer in her sleep, as if she was afraid I'd disappear. I could feel her hand tremble against my chest, her breathing uneven again, and the next thing I knew, she was shifting, her body pressing into mine. Her head nestled into the crook of my neck, and her breath was warm against my skin.
I tensed, trying not to move. My heart was pounding, every instinct telling me to be careful—too careful.But then her knee slid between my legs.
I sucked in a breath, my whole body locking up as I felt her leg press up against my length…
I couldn't move. Hell, I could barely breathe.
Her arm curled around me tighter, her hand pressing against my stomach like I was some sort of lifeline, and I had no idea what to do. She was asleep. Completely unaware of what she was doing. But that didn't change the fact that I was very aware. Painfully aware.
Her breath was warm against my neck, soft and steady now, but every nerve in my body was on high alert. Her knee was still there, and I fought the urge to shift, to somehow ease the tension, but it was impossible. I couldn't move without waking her, and I definitely couldn't move without making things... worse.
My mind raced, trying to focus on anything—anything—other than the feel of her legs between mine. But it was impossible. The soft scent of her shampoo lingered in the air, her small hands clutching my shirt like she needed me, her leg draped over mine like it belonged there. I could feel her warmth, her heartbeat, and my brain was in overdrive, trying to rationalize why I shouldn't be feeling the way I was.
It was... innocent. She didn't know what she was doing.
But then her hand twitched, her fingers brushing my skin beneath my shirt, and I tensed again, my breath catching in my throat. I tried to focus on the ceiling, on the cool air, on anything but the way her body was so damn close. But the more I tried to ignore it, the more aware I became of how soft she felt, how vulnerable she was in this moment, and how wrong it would be to think anything else.
She needs you to protect her, Alex. Don't mess this up.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down, to control my body, my thoughts, everything. It wasn't easy, not with Ivy wrapped around me like this, but I had to. For her.
The minutes ticked by, and eventually, the tension in my muscles began to ease, though I still couldn't bring myself to move. I didn't trust myself to.
And then, just as I was starting to think I might survive the night, Ivy mumbled something in her sleep. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but I felt it against my neck.
"Please... don't go."
My chest tightened. I swallowed hard, shifting just slightly so I could look at her face. Her brows were still drawn together, her lips parted as she whispered, her voice so small, so fragile. I could feel the weight of her fear, the way she clung to me even in her sleep, and it hit me all over again—just how much she needed someone to be there for her.
And I was that person now. Whether I was ready for it or not.
I exhaled slowly, pressing my hand gently over hers, hoping that somehow, even in her fevered sleep, she could feel that I wasn't going anywhere.
"I'm here, Ivy," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I'm not leaving."
She didn't respond—of course, she didn't. But her grip on my shirt loosened just a little, her body relaxing against mine, and after a few moments, her breathing evened out again.
I stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of her head resting against me, her leg still draped over mine. The tension wasn't gone—far from it—but at least she seemed more at peace now.
As for me? Sleep was a distant hope. But for Ivy, I'd stay like this as long as she needed.