I crawled out of the bed; my eyes scrunched together, and throat dry and parched. Brandon was on the sofa, letting me take the bed last night. Though couldn't say I didn't need it. After a night full of tossing and turning, and occasionally sneezing, the bed was a mess. Locked up in the bathroom, I stared at my face. It was puffy, red and blotched. Even though I hadn't cried. I shook my head, and splashed the cool water, a shiver running down my spine as it hit my face. I took a ragged breath in, realising that my nose was blocked. Therefore, I attempted to clear it without making too much noise, which was slightly impossible.

The toothpaste cleared the morning breath, and I quickly went over the brushing part. The outer I felt far more presentable, but inside, I was as sick as I could be.

When I opened the bathroom door and went out, Brandon was up, moving around without a shirt. I rolled my eyes. The things I had seen should be enough for me to be compelled to wash my eyes with buckets of holy water. However, I was too far along to care.

"You look like a truck went over you," he whispered in a husky voice, coming behind me.

"Good morning to you too," I replied. I motioned to move away from him, and towards the bed, but his hands came around my waist. The heat of his body enveloped around me, warming my back and insides. He rested his head on my shoulder, inhaling loudly and exhaling even more loudly.

My shoulder tickled as his hair brushed my skin, and I moved them upwards. "Are you going to sleep on my shoulder? Who told you to wake up so early?"

He chuckled, and I felt him move his head, his lips touching the bare of my shoulder. A shiver ran down me, and I moved my shoulder up even further. Quite close to my ears now.

"You were already awake. I'd rather spend time with the real you instead of dreaming about you," he spoke. My face cringed at his words, too sweet and corny for my taste. However, my stomach did a free fall as well. I was having mixed reactions, but really, which drug was Brandon on?

He nestled in inside the crook of my neck for a few more moments, and I let him. That is, before I graciously ruined the moment with my sneeze.

Brandon scrambled back, wide awake and rubbing his eyes. He blinked a few times, taking the situation in. It seemed like the sleepy Brandon was far more romantic than the original one.

"Did you take your medicine?" He stifled a yawn, narrowing his eyes at me.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Brandon gave a displeased sound.

Oops. Guilty as charged.

"I told you to take your medicine. We have the competition tomorrow," he insisted. I hung my head down, embarrassed. It should have been my responsibility, yet Brandon had to practically beg me.

"Sorry, I was just too tired yesterday." I bit my lip, taking a seat on the bed. The duvet covers were crumpled, but it didn't bother me at the moment.

"I should have just forced it in your mouth." He sighed, taking a seat beside me.

"Forced?" I stammered. Brandon turned towards me, a glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. Want me to do it?" He leaned closer, staring into my eyes. "I'll just transfer the cold syrup through my mouth, if you won't take it."

"Ew!" I gulped, heat rising up my face with the intensity of his unwavering gaze. I lightly punched on his chest, to give me some time to breathe and get space. Finally finding my voice, I croaked out, "No, thank you, I'll just drink the syrup myself."

"If you say so," Brandon said, trying to keep a straight face but failing to do so. His gimmick to make me take medicine was so obvious yet I didn't have the courage to contradict him. He sniggered at me, even ruffling my hair as he stood up and walked away.

My eyes followed him as he bent down to his suitcase, roughly pushing aside a mountain of t-shirts. What was the point of owning so many when they hardly saw the light of the day? His pant already hung low on his waist, would have been treading on dangerous territories had it not been for his red colored underwear. For some reason, it felt weird knowing that I knew about the color of his underwear. It was obvious that he did not knew mine. And on some level I was relieved that it wasn't a Leopard print or something similarly wild. It would have been too much for my not-so-virgin eyes. Also disturbing to see, if I may add.

Brandon stood up, and I averted my eyes away. Almost as if I hadn't just had a long discussion in my head on his underwear. I heard the crinkling sound of paper. He turned. There was something in his hand though I couldn't read between the blur as he placed it in his mouth. His steps kept advancing towards me as he ripped the wrapper apart with his teeth.

"Ah," he said, opening his mouth. I opened mine as he said so. In a second, he placed the bar of chocolate in my mouth. I bit down, the sugary crunchiness exploding in my mouth.

"Eat that before I give you the medicine," he said, throwing the wrapper away in the dustbin. "Do you want juice too?"

I shook my head, chowing down the bar in seconds. It was sweet of him to take care of me, and I inwardly smiled, brushing the crumbs off my pjamas.

"Here." He came back, a spoon and the bottle of cold and flu syrup in his hands. I winced at the dark colored liquid in his hands and just prayed to get over with it soon. Although it was a good thing, my mother always insisted on carrying necessary medicines while traveling. Saved me from the trouble of visiting a doctor for common aches.

Brandon poured the liquid onto the spoon and I opened my mouth, swallowing the bitter flavored medicine. I scrunched up my face in distaste. To my horror, he poured another spoonful.

"For fast recovery. Two teaspoons are recommended for adults," he spoke, urging me on to swallow the liquid as well. I did as he asked, under his mercy. The liquid didn't bore well as it traveled down my throat but I controlled my gag reflex.

"I don't feel any different," I whined.

"You have to wait till the medicine kicks in." He closed the cap and kept the bottle on the table.

"Whatever. It was so bitter, can't I have something sweet?" I winced, craning my neck to look for a toffee or a sachet of sugar. They were always lying around here and there, but missing when I actually needed them.

"Something sweet?" Brandon came up to me, and I nodded, looking up at him. Did he have another one of his treats in his hands? "How about this?"

He stooped low, winking at me on his way forward. My heart stopped for a beat when we were only a breath away from each other. I closed my eyes. The feel of his lips on mine sent a wave of heat through me. For a second and not more of contact, he moved back. I flexed my toes, which had curled with his touch. My eyes seemed to follow his lips, and I saw him flick his tongue out, licking them. He grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Sweet enough?" he murmured in that husky voice and I felt my blush. There was challenge in his voice and with the way his eyes twinkled.

"No. I would have preferred chocolate any day." I deadpanned, enjoying the flicker of surprise in his eyes. However, it soon turned into an even more amused and challenging gaze. I knew it was coming.

"Then I should just prove my worthiness." He pushed me back, and I lifelessly fell back on the bed, bouncing a little. From the corner of my eyes, I saw that my hair fanned around me on the bed, contrasting the white against the red. I raised my eyebrows when he knelt, one leg wedged between my knees and the other on the side.

For one thing, the view was spectacular. His toned muscles flexed with each movement, the lack of a shirt giving me enough eye candy to last a lifetime. But the other that it felt far too intimate, and I turned into a mush thinking about the possibilities raging inside my head.

He bent, his hands resting on the either side of my face. I shook my head, placing my hand on his mouth before he could do anything else. "I am sick."

"But you took your medicine," he mumbled against my hand, his voice muffled.

I shook my head. "Nope, no kissing until I am okay." I meant it when I said it, even though I knew my body language said otherwise.

His shoulders slumped but he didn't move. My brows furrowed, and then I felt it again.

"Eww! Did you just lick my palm?!" I screeched, pulling back my arm and wiping it off him. He chuckled, while I made a disgusted face and attempted to wipe out any trace if possible. After a while, I realized that in a way I was rubbing his bare chest. The thought made my arm freeze, in the most unfortunate manner, directly over his left nipple.

"It's clean now, I guess." I gulped, fisting my hand and keeping it close to my body.

"Is it?" The husk was back in his voice. "I am curious. What would happen if the situation reverses?" His hand trailed the side of my face, putting back few flyaway hairs.

"I won't be shirtless though," I said too innocently, and he chuckled.

"You're right." He straightened up, and fresh air rushed in between the space he had previously occupied. "Get rest."

"Rest?" I breathed as Brandon moved away from me. "I just woke up and I am not sleepy."

"Not for long. The syrup I gave you will knock you out in a couple of hours maximum." He wiggled the bottle in front of me. I asked him to give it to me.

Reading the small description at the back, I saw it clearly said the syrup would make me drowsy. In addition, I had had two teaspoons. At least we would be crashing in the hotel room the whole day.

I settled myself in the bed again. Brandon went to the bathroom. After ten or so minutes, he came out, wrapped in the lush bathrobe. I rather expected him to be in one of those flimsy towel actors seemed to prefer in the movies. The towel dangerously wrapped around their waist. Disappointment dripped from my face. The doorbell rang and Brandon dragged his feet towards the door. Still in his bathrobe glory. He looked delectable, to be fair. His hair wet and dripping droplets of water now and then.

"Yes?" I heard him say. The curiosity got the better of me. I stood up and got out of the bed. Wearing my slippers because the floor was cold, I shuffled out as well.

Brandon had the door ajar, and I peeked to see one of the assistant producers outside. Our eyes met for a brief second and I saw panic in them.

"It's great to see you both are up." He swallowed. Brandon and I shared a look of confusion. "The thing is..."

"Yeah?" Brandon urged him.

"Somehow I missed to inform you both. But the next round of competition starts in half an hour." He rushed, scratching his head.

"What?" We both shouted and he winced.

"You weren't here when I came last evening and then it skipped my mind," he sounded close to scared. Which in my opinion, he should be. We all knew how big of an impact it could have on the competition. Just how irresponsible this was. Skipped his mind?!

"But wasn't the fourth round scheduled to be tomorrow?" I didn't want to believe it just yet. Maybe he was playing a prank. I wished this were just a prank. Please, make it a prank.

"One of the judges has an urgent flight tomorrow. There was a death in his family." He hung his head.

"Oh," I said. The news set a dead weight on my heart. It was horrible, and I understood the frenzy the staff had to go through to arrange the competition a day before the planned date. But it couldn't have been helped--not if the judge was to leave.

My expression must have been sore, and Brandon was stiff as a wall as well, because he pleaded. "Please, don't get this out. I am still a trainee. I might lose my job." I saw sincerity as well as regret in his eyes and nodded. The staffs were already in a rush, and we were out yesterday evening. However, so were Francis and Bella's team. I couldn't see him forgetting to inform them for one.

"It's fine. It can happen." I said.

"But—" Brandon started, and I kept a hand on his shoulder, so he stopped.

"We have to meet in half an hour?" I asked the producer to be sure.

"Yeah. There is a brief meeting in the basement hall. Shooting starts in forty-five." He adjusted his hair, his shoulders relaxing. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said, not returning his smile and closing the door with Brandon's help.

"That guy's a shit," he growled, letting out an angry breath. Truthfully, we had the right to feel so. Though we might not have practiced today or done anything productive, mental preparation was as much a big part of a competition as the physical one. For us to go out in frenzy would not be a good start. However, it couldn't be helped. Because the truth was that the problem was much bigger than us.

"I know," I replied. Slips and mistakes always happened, and this time it had bitten us. With so many people to inform, this could have happened to anyone.

"You go get changed." He pushed me inside, leading me to the closet. He picked up his bag and started shuffling out clothes. I followed his suit and grabbed one of the pre-coordinated outfits. I took my toiletries bag and made a beeline to the bathroom.

Putting on the clothes, while juggling my wild untamed hair and runny nose was a little difficult, but I managed it in record time. I hurried over my makeup procedure; it was a TV show after all. Giving up on my hair, I did a simple plait and let the fly away and a few strands frame my face. I did a once over, fine with the result and breezed out of the bathroom.

Brandon was dressed as well, pulling on his socks. He nodded at me, giving my dress an okay, before he stood up and went for his shoes. We had five more minutes, and I remembered well to keep tissues in handy.

"Are you done?" Brandon asked, looking well dressed up even in semi-casuals.

I looked at myself, to check if I wasn't missing anything—like maybe forgetting to wear pants—and then sighed. "I think so..."

My eyes went over the whole room, and I made a quick reminder to call my mother before the competition started. Her voice always soothed me.

"Should we leave?" he asked, grabbing the hotel key card.

"Mm-hmm," I murmured, when my eyes went over the bottle of cold syrup resting on the corner of the table and stopped there. His words replayed in my mind.

...the syrup I gave you will knock you out in a couple of hours maximum...

The thought filled dread in my stomach, and I knew it was a bad omen. I walked out gingerly as Brandon slammed the door shut. So much for me thinking that we would be staying in all day.

*****

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Thank you and for suggesting chapter title with 'Lemon'!