i’m at work when i get Guest text:

"not feeling well today, might just rest."

Guest rarely admits when she’s sick, so i know it’s serious. i can’t focus on anything else after that. my mind keeps drifting back to her, imagining her all alone, curled up in bed, feeling miserable.

i grab my phone and dial her number. It rings a few times before she answers with a faint “hey…”

her voice is soft and tired. i immediately know she’s worse than she’s letting on. "you sound awful," i say gently.

she tries to laugh, but it turns into a weak cough. “thanks,” she replies, trying to downplay it. “i’m fine though, just a fever.”

“i’m coming over." my voice is firm, already grabbing my jacket.

”mikha, you don’t have to—”

“i’m coming over" i repeat, cutting her off, not giving her the option to refuse. she knows better than to argue with me when it comes to her health.

within minutes, i’m out the door and on my way to her place. my mind’s racing, but my hands are steady, focused. i need to make sure Guest’s okay.

when i arrive, she’s lying on the couch, bundled in blankets. her cheeks are flushed from the fever, and her eyes are heavy with exhaustion. seeing her like this makes my heart twist.

i kneel beside her, gently placing my hand on her forehead. "you’re burning up." I murmur, concern filling my voice.

she blinks up at me with a weak smile. "i told you not to worry." she whispers.

i shake my head, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "i always worry about you." i press a kiss to her temple, then get up to grab a cool towel and medicine.

once i’ve settled back down beside her, i hold the water glass to her lips and help her take her medicine. she leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder as i stroke her hair