Mahiru's eyelids fluttered open slowly. Her body felt heavy, and her head was still burning with fever, but her mind was clearer than before. The dim glow of the night lamp illuminated the room, casting soft shadows.
The first thing she did was search for something—someone.
Her tired eyes wandered until they landed on a figure sitting beside her bed.
Sam.
He was leaning slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His brows were furrowed, eyes fixed on her, as if he had been watching over her this entire time.
"…Sam?" Mahiru's voice came out hoarse and weak.
Sam immediately straightened. "You're awake." His tone was laced with relief, but his expression remained serious.
Mahiru blinked a few times, still trying to process everything. "What… happened?"
"You fainted at the door," Sam said, sighing. "Your fever was too high, and there wasn't any hospital open nearby, so I stayed to take care of you."
Mahiru's cheeks flushed slightly—not just from the fever. "…You stayed?"
"Of course, I did." Sam gave her an exasperated look. "What, did you think I'd leave you alone in this state?"
Mahiru looked away, embarrassed. She wasn't used to this level of care… but it felt nice.
Sam sighed and stood up. "Wait here. I'll get something."
Mahiru barely had time to process his words before he disappeared into the next room. A few minutes later, he returned with a tray.
"You made food?" Mahiru asked, surprised.
"Yeah. You need to eat before taking medicine," Sam said, sitting beside her and setting the tray down.
Mahiru tried to sit up, but her limbs were weak, making it difficult. Sam clicked his tongue and moved closer.
"Don't force yourself," he muttered. Without warning, he placed his arm behind her back and gently helped her sit up.
Mahiru's breath hitched at the sudden closeness. Her heart pounded as she leaned against him for support.
"Here," Sam said, scooping a spoonful of warm porridge and holding it in front of her. "Eat."
Mahiru hesitated, her face growing warmer. "I-I can do it…"
"You can barely lift your arms," Sam pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Just eat, Mahiru."
Defeated, Mahiru opened her mouth, letting him feed her. The warmth of the porridge spread through her, and to her surprise, it tasted good.
"…It's nice," she murmured.
Sam smirked slightly. "Good."
He continued feeding her in silence, only speaking when necessary. Mahiru felt both embarrassed and touched by his care.
After finishing the meal, Sam handed her a glass of water. "Now take this," he said, placing a pill in her palm.
Mahiru obediently swallowed the medicine, sighing softly.
Just then, Sam's phone buzzed.
Mahiru tilted her head. "Who is it?"
Sam glanced at the screen. "My mom. I called her earlier to tell her I'd be staying here."
Mahiru widened her eyes. "You told her?!"
"What else was I supposed to do?" Sam asked, giving her a pointed look. "Didn't want her to think I vanished."
Mahiru looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket. "…And what did she say?"
"She told me to take good care of you," Sam said, smirking slightly. "And that you owe me for making me worry."
Mahiru pouted. "I didn't ask you to worry."
"You didn't have to," Sam said simply.
Mahiru's breath hitched. Her heart did that weird fluttering thing again. She quickly turned her head away, hoping he wouldn't notice her face turning red.
Sam sighed and stood up. "Get some sleep. I'll clean up the dishes."
Mahiru watched him leave the room, her fingers clutching the blanket tightly.
As she turned to her side, her hand brushed against something soft.
She blinked and glanced down, realizing it was the plushie Sam had won for her at the arcade. It had been sitting beside her this whole time.
A small smile formed on her lips as she reached for it, pulling it into her arms. Hugging the plushie tightly, she buried her face into it, inhaling its faint, comforting scent.
"…You're too unfair, Sam."
With that whispered thought, she let herself drift off again, her heart still warm from his presence.
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