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“Good evening, detective! What brings you here? ”
Lauren rolled her eyes, smiling, as she approached Kieran, who sat by the fire, sifting through the documents they had retrieved from last night’s mission.
“I brought dinner,” she said, raising a plastic bag.
“Excellent as always. Although I’d prefer it if you took me out next time,” he winked.
“Maybe sometime next week. Come on, let’s eat.”
He chuckled and set his work aside. She didn’t miss the slight tremble of his legs when he stood to join her by the table. She frowned.
“Are you alright? ”
“Better than ever.”
She could now hear the hoarseness of his voice now that he was closer. Is he sick?
“Kieran.”
He took her hand and rubbed the back of it with his palm.
“Seriously, love, I’m fine. Just a little tired from last night.”
She wasn’t convinced, but she knew he wouldn’t say anything more about the matter. The chair scraped as she pulled it out for him. He sat and whispered a quick thanks.
“Then you should rest. We could work on the rest of them tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about it. I only have a few more to go through. Other than a ledger of their weapon deliveries, nothing useful.”
She set his food before hers and settled down on her seat.
“It might not be much now, but we’ll see if Uncle or Dakan knows more about it.”
“Hopefully. It’d be a shame if we didn’t get anything after all the trouble we went through.”
“More like what you went through. You’re the one who looked for the papers while I beat up the bad guys.”
“I believe it was the other way around, darling.”
She only laughed in reply.
They began to eat in silence. She was halfway done with her dinner when she noticed Kieran’s dinner, only a quarter of it gone. Then she took a moment to observe him. Slumped shoulders, stiff and sluggish movement of his hands, heavy and slow breathing, and finally, eyes that were about to pass out in any second.
Eyes that caught her looking at him.
“What, can’t take your eyes off of me? ”
“Are you sick? ”
“What?”
“Kieran, are you sick? ”
“No, no. I’m fine. You-”
She had already rounded the table and raised a hand to his forehead. He’s warm. Then she gently touched the back of her hand to his neck. Too warm. Feeling him swallow, she suddenly realized how close she had gotten to him.
“Sorry,” she said and took a step back.
He held her gaze before turning away, clearing his throat. “It’s alright.”
“You have a fever, Kieran.”
He breathed deeply, lacking the energy to argue with her.
“It’s nothing. It’ll pass soon enough.”
“You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“Lauren, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m-”
Kieran suddenly coughed uncontrollably, and Lauren snatched the glass of water, giving it to him. He gulped it down like a man stranded in the desert for weeks. Or someone with an itchy throat.
He looked at her. She glared at him. He smiled sheepishly.
“You’re sick.”
“Ugh, yes, detective. I’m sick.”
“And you need to rest.”
“Yes, mother, I’ll be a good boy and tuck myself to bed,” he murmured.
He tried to stand but faltered. The chair he used as support tipped back and crashed onto the floor; he would have followed if not for Lauren catching his fall.
He clutched her arm and did his best not to rest his weight on her, but she took it. She held him tight and steadied him as he struggled to stand straight.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“Hey, it’s alright.”
She helped him make their way to the bed. He collapsed and covered his eyes with his arm. Lauren has never seen him so tired before. Even after the explosion and the beating, he still kept going. He threw his jokes, did his job, and even protected her. She could never imagine what kind of training he went through, but she knew one thing for sure. He was at his limit, and it was her turn to take care of him.
His breath was heavy and even. He must have fallen asleep. Gently, she shook him awake.
“Kieran.”
He hummed.
“We need to go to your apartment. Your fever might get worse if you spend the night here. It’s too cold.”
Lowering his arm, his eyes pierced at her with annoyance, since he had been woken up just to sleep somewhere else. But she knew that he knew that she was right.
“Fine,” he groaned, and he hefted himself up again.
The silent streets of Ardhalis worried Kieran as they approached his apartment. The cold made him numb to every step, and he strained his ears for anything that might signal danger. He knew Lauren could protect herself, but, considering the past few weeks, anything could happen.
He felt her hand fish for the keys inside the pocket of his coat. The lock clinked open, and a burst of warmth welcomed him home.
Being back in his apartment, a wave of relief washed over him, and he rested himself against the wall, catching his breath. Home, sweet home. He heard the door shut and felt a tug on his coat. He obeyed her and removed it, followed by his boots, shoving it to the side.
Her gentle hand guided him through the apartment and to his bedroom. Just before he threw himself on the bed, Lauren held him and said, “Change first.”
Again, she was right. When she exited the room, he did as he was told. Discarding the old and throwing on a new shirt, he flopped down and sank into his bed. It was soft and comfortable, and he didn’t want to go anywhere else.
He didn’t even know how he had gotten so sick. Was it the rain last week? No. Maybe he drank something? No, then he would’ve known. Pushing himself to the limits and his body rioting for him to take a rest and give it enough hours of sleep? …Maybe.
He was pathetic. He should’ve been more careful. How could he let himself be knocked out by a simple fever when he could take a beating by 15 guys, survive a bomb explosion, and be around Lauren Sinclair and act like he isn’t in love with her? That was the worst part. She just had to see him like this.
The door creaked, and he felt the dip of the mattress as she sat down.
“How are you feeling? ”
“Not fine.”
She laughed softly, a quiet lullaby. She removed the ribbon from his hair, and it fell on his face. Her slender fingers combed through his hair, and he wondered if he could ask her to do it again. She checked his forehead.
“You’re still hot.”
“So you admit that you’re enraptured by my charms? ”
“Shh, just shut up and rest.”
It hurt his throat to speak and even more so to laugh with her, but he’d forget about every pain if he could make her smile again and again.
A cool, wet rag soothed his aching head, and sleep was coming to him again. He was leaving her in the waking world, but the hand that held him told him that she would stay and that she would be there in the morning. She would stay, despite everything.
“Thank you,” he said. For everything.
“Of course. Always.”