Fevered Confessions

As Thea stepped out of the café, she pulled her coat tighter around her. The evening air had turned crisp, carrying with it the scent of fresh rain on pavement. She was still lost in thought, replaying her conversation with Professor Steven. But just as she turned the corner, she felt the weight of someone's gaze on her.

Adrian stood a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching her intently. He had been there for a while, unseen, observing the easy exchange between Thea and Steven. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but something about the sight of Thea smiling at another man unsettled him. The unexpected pang of jealousy crept in before he could stop it.

Scoffing at himself, Adrian shook his head and turned on his heel. He needed a drink.

---

Later that night, Adrian found himself at a dimly lit bar, swirling a glass of whiskey as his friend Edwin took a seat beside him.

"What's with you tonight? You look like you've seen a ghost," Edwin remarked, ordering his own drink.

Adrian sighed, taking a slow sip. "It's nothing. Just a long day."

Edwin wasn't convinced. "Right. And I'm the king of England. Let me guess—Thea?"

Adrian tensed but didn't answer. Instead, he took another sip, letting the burn of alcohol chase away his thoughts. Edwin chuckled knowingly.

"Man, if you're jealous, just admit it."

Adrian shot him a glare. "Jealous of what?"

"Of whoever was sitting across from Thea at that café. Yeah, I saw you standing there," Edwin smirked. "If you don't care, why are we even having this conversation?"

Adrian exhaled sharply and signaled the bartender for another round. He had no answer to that.

The drinks kept coming, and before he knew it, dawn was breaking.

---

The harsh ringing of the doorbell jolted Adrian awake. He groaned, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple. His head was pounding, his body felt unbearably heavy, and his throat was dry as sandpaper. When the doorbell rang again, more insistent this time, he forced himself up, cursing under his breath.

Dragging himself to the door, he barely managed to unlock it before swinging it open.

Thea stood there, her brows furrowed in concern. "Adrian?"

His vision blurred for a second, and he had to blink to focus. That's when she stepped closer, placing a hand on his forehead. Her lips parted in alarm.

"You're burning up!" she exclaimed. "You have a fever."

Adrian swayed slightly, and Thea instinctively reached out to steady him. "You're sick, Adrian. You need to rest."

He wanted to argue, but he was too tired. Too drained. Instead, he allowed her to guide him back inside, where she closed the door behind them.

"Did you even eat anything?" she asked, scanning the empty space around them.

Adrian gave a weak chuckle. "Whiskey doesn't count?"

Thea rolled her eyes. "You're impossible. Lie down. I'll make you something to eat."

Adrian didn't protest this time. He collapsed onto the couch, draping an arm over his eyes as exhaustion overtook him. He heard Thea moving around the kitchen, the clatter of pots and the faint sound of water running.

Despite the fever-induced haze, warmth bloomed in his chest. Thea was here. Taking care of him.

Minutes later, the scent of something warm and comforting filled the air. Thea walked back into the living room, setting a tray on the table beside him. "Here, sit up and eat. It's just some light soup, but it'll help."

Adrian groaned but obeyed, pushing himself up with effort. She handed him a spoon, watching as he took slow, measured bites. The heat of the broth spread through him, soothing in a way he hadn't expected.

"Thanks," he murmured after a while.

Thea crossed her arms. "You should really take better care of yourself, you know. This isn't normal. What were you even thinking?"

He smirked weakly. "I wasn't. That's the problem, isn't it?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Just rest, okay? I'll stay for a while to make sure you're alright."

Adrian blinked at her, something unreadable in his gaze. "You don't have to."

"I know," Thea said softly. "But I want to."

And for the first time that day, Adrian let himself relax. He didn't have to say anything—her presence was enough.