Chapter 10: A Heart Overflowing

The stifling heat that had plagued Chloe Grace for what felt like an eternity was finally gone, leaving behind a strange sense of lightness. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, and she found herself staring at a figure slumped over the edge of her bed. 

She blinked a few times, her vision adjusting to the dim light. It was Blaine Jackson—his dark head of hair just inches from her hand, rising and falling slightly with his steady breaths. Her fingers twitched, instinctively reaching out. 

"Blaine?" Her voice was hoarse and weak, cracking under the weight of her confusion. What was he doing here? And why was he so close, practically guarding her bedside? 

Before she could piece it together, a warm, firm hand clasped hers, sending a wave of calm through her. Then, that same hand gently pressed against her forehead. 

"The fever's finally gone," Blaine murmured, his deep voice laced with relief. He straightened, his usually sharp eyes now rimmed with exhaustion. "Chloe, how are you feeling?" 

Chloe frowned, her thoughts sluggish and tangled. "How am I feeling?" she echoed, touching her chest lightly as though searching for an answer. "Was there… something wrong with me?" 

"Nothing major," Blaine replied dryly, though his expression betrayed a mix of frustration and lingering concern. "Just a raging fever high enough to fry an egg. No big deal." He leaned back, motioning toward the clock on the nightstand. "You've been out cold for hours. It's ten at night now." 

"Ten?" Chloe's voice rose, a hint of panic slipping through her exhaustion. The last thing she remembered, it had been morning. "Wait, the hospital? Me?" 

"Yes, you." Blaine's brows furrowed. "Don't tell me you don't remember collapsing like a poorly built sandcastle this morning?" 

Chloe bit her lip, struggling to recall. "I felt so hot… everything hurt. I couldn't move. But then there was something cool—it felt so good, like ice soothing a burn…" 

Blaine smirked, leaning closer. "That 'something cool' was me, Chloe. My hand, to be exact. You latched onto it like it was a lifeline and wouldn't let go, not even for a second." 

Chloe's cheeks flushed deeper, though it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or the remnants of her fever. "I… didn't know…" she mumbled, her voice trailing off. 

Her quiet vulnerability struck a chord in Blaine. Without thinking, his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for just a moment too long. When he realized what he was doing, he pulled back, clearing his throat awkwardly. 

"So, you didn't notice you were practically burning up this morning?" His voice turned a shade more stern, though it couldn't quite mask the concern behind it. 

Chloe's eyes darted away. "I… I kind of felt it," she admitted hesitantly. "But I didn't think it was that serious. And… I wanted to make breakfast for you." 

Blaine's mouth fell open slightly, his expression caught between disbelief and annoyance. "Breakfast? You were barely conscious, and you thought it was a good idea to cook for me?" 

"I just… heard you were picky about breakfast," Chloe said softly, fiddling with the corner of her blanket. "And I thought it might make you happy…" 

For a moment, Blaine stared at her, his mouth opening as if to argue, only to close it again. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh. "You're unbelievable. Torturing yourself to make me happy? What kind of logic is that?" 

Chloe shrank back, unsure how to respond. Her lips quivered as she whispered, "You're… mad at me?" 

Her timid question hit him like a punch to the gut. Blaine pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, "No, Chloe, I'm not mad. I'm just…" He paused, looking into her wide, glassy eyes. "Concerned. That's all." 

Chloe blinked, her throat tightening as a rush of unexpected emotion swept over her. "Blaine…" Her voice trembled, and before she could stop herself, tears began to spill. 

"Chloe?" Blaine leaned forward, alarmed. "What's wrong? Are you in pain?" 

"No…" she choked out, shaking her head. "It's just… no one's ever treated me like this before. You brought me to the hospital, stayed by my side, and now you're worrying about me like this…" Her voice cracked, a mixture of gratitude and sadness flooding every word. 

Blaine was frozen, his chest tightening as he watched her cry. "Chloe," he said quietly, his voice softening. "You don't need to cry over something like this." He hesitated before adding, "If I knew you'd get this emotional, I might've thought twice about being nice to you." 

Chloe let out a small, watery laugh, wiping at her eyes. "You're making fun of me now?" 

"Only a little." Blaine smirked, his tone lighter. "But seriously, Chloe, don't think of this as some grand gesture. You needed help, and I was there. That's all." 

Her gaze softened, the weight in her chest lifting slightly. "Thank you," she said earnestly, her voice steady this time. 

Blaine stood, stretching his stiff limbs. "Enough of this sentimental nonsense. You need to eat something." 

"I'm not really hungry…" Chloe started, but Blaine cut her off with a raised eyebrow. 

"You haven't eaten all day. You're having porridge. No arguments." 

Chloe couldn't help but smile faintly at his firm tone. As she watched him leave the room, her heart swelled with a warmth she couldn't quite put into words. 

For the first time in a long while, she felt truly cared for—not as an obligation, but as someone who mattered. And that feeling, she realized, was worth more than anything she could ever express.