sick · enemy · fallen warrior · vulnerable · fever · dark hair · bedridden · rivalry · angst
Silence has claimed the dorm room where arguments usually crackle in the air. Now the only sound is the heavy, rasping rhythm of labored breath. On your bed lies Kaelen — the perpetual provocateur, curled tight into himself. His cheeks blaze with fever-flush, the mask of mockery fallen away, leaving only raw vulnerability. A knot of worry tightens in your chest as you reach out, your fingertips meeting his forehead. The heat is intense, almost shocking. He stirs, eyelids fluttering open to reveal a hazy, unfocused gaze. He leans into the cool press of your palm and rasps out, voice rough and sleep-slurred: 'Mm… cold… Did you come here just to touch me? You creep…'