Before walking out the door, Nick called my name again. This time, his voice was different—weak, no trace of the usual arrogance. It was almost vulnerable, and it stopped me in my tracks. I turned back to look at him, surprised by what I saw.
He was no longer lounging in bed with that annoying smirk. Instead, he was curled up slightly, his body tense, like he was trying to hide the fact that he was in pain. His face was pale, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, and his eyes were half-closed, the cocky edge completely gone.
Without thinking, I rushed to his side. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice betraying the concern I didn't want to show. I could see the pain etched on his face, and though I didn't know what to do, I couldn't just leave him like this.
Nick didn't answer right away. He took a shallow breath, his hand gripping the edge of the blanket tightly, as if trying to keep himself from showing just how bad it was.
"I'll be fine," he muttered, his voice strained. But I wasn't convinced. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by something almost… human.
I knelt down beside him, not knowing what else to do. My mind was racing, trying to think of something to say, but all I could do was stare at him, feeling my own heart race with worry. This wasn't the Nick I knew, and it caught me completely off guard.
"Do you need anything? Should I call someone?" I asked softly, my voice much gentler now.
He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. "No… I don't need anyone," he said, but his voice faltered, betraying him.
For a moment, I didn't know what to do. Nick was always so impossible—commanding, infuriating—but seeing him like this, weak and in pain, stirred something inside me. I didn't want to care, but here I was, worrying about him anyway.
Without wasting another second, I quickly went to fetch a bowl of water and grabbed a small towel. Nick was burning up, and I knew I had to do something. When I returned, I sat down beside him, soaking the towel in the cool water, and gently began pressing it against his forehead.
His skin was hot to the touch, the fever clearly getting worse. As I worked, my mind raced, my hands moving automatically as I tried to keep my emotions in check. I had to focus, had to help him.
His shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his chest. I hesitated for a moment, my heart beating faster than I wanted it to, but I knew leaving him like this wouldn't help. Carefully, I removed the shirt, trying to stay professional and keep my thoughts in line, even though my fingers felt the firm muscles beneath his skin.
I dipped the towel in the cool water again and gently ran it across his chest, hoping to bring his temperature down. I tried to concentrate on the task, but as the towel moved over his toned chest and down his torso, I found myself getting a little lost in the moment.
His skin was warm and smooth, every detail of his body drawing my attention. For a second, I forgot myself, my thoughts wandering as I looked at him, and I quickly snapped out of it, shaking my head to clear my mind.
This wasn't the time for that. I was here to help, not to get distracted by how undeniably attractive Nick was—even in this vulnerable state. I kept my hands moving, trying to focus on the task, trying to ignore the way his chest rose and fell beneath my touch.
After a few moments, I could feel the warmth in his skin starting to fade, his fever slowly coming down. His breathing evened out, and he seemed to drift into sleep. I sighed, relieved that he was okay for now. I should leave while he's resting, I thought. But as I looked at him lying there, peaceful, without his usual arrogance and entitlement, I couldn't help but notice how soft and sweet he looked. Without the sharp words or his dominating presence, he seemed almost… innocent.
I found myself lingering, watching him, completely lost in thought. He looks so cute, I thought, almost surprised at myself. But I quickly reminded myself that this was still Nick. I needed to leave. Yet, something held me back. What if his fever spiked again? What if something happened while I was gone? I couldn't just leave him like this, could I? I felt like I was fighting against myself, torn between what I knew was the right thing to do and the inexplicable pull I felt to stay.
Just as I stood, Nick's eyes fluttered open. He looked at me, groggy but aware, and before I could react, his hand gently took hold of mine. His grip was light, almost hesitant, and in a whisper, he said, "Stay, please."
It was like he'd been reading my mind, like he knew I'd been standing there debating whether to stay or go. And in that moment, his quiet request was all it took to break the internal battle I'd been fighting.
My heart raced, but his touch and the quiet vulnerability in his eyes made me hesitate.
Without saying a word, I sat back down on the edge of the bed. Nick gave a small, almost relieved smile, his usual arrogance nowhere in sight.
"You can lie down with me. I won't bite," he said, his smile turning playful but still soft. There was something sincere in his voice, something that disarmed me completely. He wasn't the Nick I had slapped or the one who had been tormenting me. For this brief moment, he was just… human.
I hesitated for a second, unsure if I was crossing some invisible line. But without saying a word, I moved closer, as if drawn by an invisible force I couldn't resist. Lying next to him, our faces were only inches apart. I could feel the weight of the silence between us, but it wasn't the hostile tension we'd experienced before. It was softer, almost hesitant, like we were both uncertain of what was happening, yet unable to stop it.
There was still a distance between us, but it felt like that distance was shrinking with every second. The pull was undeniable, an invisible thread connecting us in this moment of vulnerability. The silence hung in the air, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt… natural, as if we both knew words weren't necessary right now.
Nick's hand slowly moved, brushing a few strands of hair from my face. The gentle touch sent shivers through me, igniting emotions I couldn't quite understand. I felt my heart race, every nerve in my body responding to his touch in ways I wasn't prepared for.
Then, without a word, he took my hand in his, holding it softly but firmly, as though he didn't want to let go. His breathing slowed, and I could tell he was drifting back to sleep. I stayed still, my mind racing, caught in the quiet moment between us as his grip on my hand loosened, and he slipped into a peaceful slumber.
I lay there, staring at him, unable to move, the softness of his touch still lingering on my skin. I didn't know what any of this meant, but for now, I stayed.