"When all your thoughts are dark and insecure,

I'll build you a light, cause baby, I'm sure,

That loving you has made me better.

I'll take all your shadows and make sure that you shine."

- Lady Gaga, The Greatest Thing

This is only the first time I get sick, but I'm already hating it. Apparently, I have what mortals call a "fever", which I want to get rid of as soon as possible. But being stuck inside this unit makes it seem that it's impossible to cure.

It has been days since Slate left me alone in our home – he just opened up a portal and then slipped right through it. For a moment, I was angry at him for leaving me, but I realized that I was being clingy. So I let my anger disappear, taking deep breaths. And after he left me, he never leaves my mind. He's always there, stuck inside my head, and I can't do anything but to imagine the way everything feels so right when he's around me, or near me. I'm craving for his touch, his scent, and now I'm basically bedridden, feeling like I'm dying, it feels like the world is now ending for me.

Runny nose, and my head feels so heavy. It has been a day since this fever started. Before this occurred, I was just cleaning the entire unit, and then I went into the shower after a long day of cleaning, then after that, I started feeling the heaviness and then it led eventually to this situation I'm in. I don't have any idea how to cure this. I can barely even stand up. It's like there's a heavy brick placed on top of me and I can't move at all. I keep on sniffing, my eyes getting teary as I shut them.

It feels like I'm seconds from dying, like my body is about to give up. Nobody warned me that being a mortal is hard and now, I'm suffering.

The thick blanket is covering me, my whole body, yet I still feel cold. There were times that I just wished for the bed to open up and send me down to Hell just to feel the warmth, because I have heard from someone that it's hot there. But then after thinking that, I always think that it's ludicrous.

When my eyes are starting to droop, the door of my room bangs up, revealing a worried Slate. I jolt awake, jumping off the bed slightly, wide eyed when I see my demon standing in the doorway, watching me with worried eyes. My heart somersaults upon seeing him and I let out a sigh of relief. Slate is back now, and I know that he's going to take care of me. Being sick sucks.

Slate takes a step forward, but then I stop. "No," I croak, then cough. "You might catch a cold, too."

The demon rolls his eyes at me, and moves forward towards my direction, sitting on the bed. I shrink back, not wanting him closer to me, fearing that he might get sick, too, which I clearly don't want to happen to him. It's enough that I'm the only one who's sick, and he doesn't need to be, too.

"What a silly thought," he says gruffly, placing the back of his hand over my forehead, feeling it up. He makes a disgruntled face. "Shit, you're hot."

"Language," I scold him, then let out another cough.

"It's just a word," he says, pinching my cheek, throwing me a smirk. Oh how much I've missed that smirk of his. I have missed him so much. "I could use a magic just to make you feel better, but I figure that taking care of you will be much more effective. So prepare to be taken care of like a prince should be."

Slate leans forward, planting his lips against mine and I kiss him back, parting my lips and he takes that as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. The kiss takes my breath away, as expected; Slate has that power, to steal my breath. It's very ironic to think that he's the one stealing my breath away yet he's basically the source of the air I intake.

My heart feels like it's about to explode, and he feels so right pressed against me.

"Shit, I've missed those lips," he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine, his breath fanning my face. I flush, loving how he stares at me, his eyes still have a worried tint on it, but at the same, there's something there that wasn't there before, something that I can't really figure out. It almost disappoints me to see him pull his lips away from mine, but when I see those eyes, I know that we've got lots of time to do it. I almost scold him again for cursing, but for the love of God I'm stopped by those mesmerizing and soul-captivating eyes.

For a moment, I contemplate whether this is real – and I have to know if this is real or not. If it isn't, if this is a dream, then I don't want to wake up anymore. I just want to keep dreaming, where Slate is never going to leave me again just for some business, where I am his number one priority. I lean forward, throwing my arms around his neck, smothering his face with my lips. "I miss you, I miss you, I miss you." I tell him as I plant kisses all over his face. He lets out a chuckle, nuzzling his nose against mine. "Why did it take you so long to get back?"

He just gives me a shrug – based from his expression, it seems like he has experienced worse stuff there, ones that he doesn't want to recall. With that, I'm not going to press him for information. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then so be it. What's important is that he's back here with me, with the promise that he's going to make me feel better, that he's going to take care of me. I don't want him to leave me again, and I'll do anything just to make him stay.

"How do you feel?" he asks me softly, his eyes boring into mine, the worried look is still there, present visibly. I almost tell him that I'm okay, that I'm going to be fine now that he's here, but the coughing ruins it all, which makes him look at me like he just wants to use his magic just to make everything better.

"Like I'm just minutes away from dying," I mutter back, letting out another set of cough. This time it's a bit rough, and it hurts my throat. "No magic, you promised. So now do what mortals do when their relatives are sick."

"I'm not going to pray," he replies back, shaking his head.

"Idiot," I chuckle. "I'm not telling you to pray. There are billions of mortals in the world, and I can guarantee you that almost all of them are not praying when their loved ones are sick. They immediately go to doctors, to the technologies they have built over the centuries, for a thing such as a cure."

"Oh,"

"So go for medicines; make me a soup; take me to a doctor," I tell him, grinning widely. He rolls his eyes playfully at me, standing up. I just notice that he's still in his demon form, and – I don't know why I think of it, I just do – he looks so hot. "Where are you going?" I say when I see him turning his back on me, halfway through the door. I can already feel the panic rising, the fear of him leaving me, and my skin is itching already.

"Duh, I'll get medicines," he chirps. "Don't worry, I'll be back in five minutes. I promise."

"You and your promises,"

"I came back, didn't I?"

"Alright, just be quick." I grunt, slumping back in the bed. He gives me a small smile, a way of him assuring me that he'll be back within five minutes just as he promised. Despite that fact, there's this thing gnawing inside me that can't fade. Somehow I can't help but think that he might never come back, and that's the scariest thing that I can imagine. As if sensing my distress, he walks back over my bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on my lips.

"I promise," he whispers.

As promised, Slate comes back within five minutes, with the medicines in hand as he approaches me. I counted, and in less than five minutes, he's already here, grinning at me, already in his human form. In the other hand he has a glass of water. He places it on the table, then rips the medicine out of its package. He hands it to me, then offers me the water, to which I thank him.

The taste of the medicine is awful. It's dissolving into my tongue, so I make sure to swallow it immediately to prevent the taste from spreading across my taste buds. Once I get better, I should use what mortals always use, the Internet, to search about how I will stay healthy. How I will stay a healthy mortal. That will be, like, a helpful guide for me.

True to his words, Slate takes care of me. As each hour goes by, Slate makes sure that I'm always feeling better. He stays beside me, his body pressed against mine as his fingers run through my hair. I like the feeling of his fingers in my hair. It feels so natural and right, like it really belongs there.

It turns out that Slate is a better caretaker. Even though I'm not in need of any immediate attention, he treats it like I do. As far as I know, when mortal doctors take care of their patients, they tell them what they should do to make themselves feel better, or what medicines to take to cure the illness, but Slate turns out to be better than a doctor. He just is.

He always gives my cheeks a sloppy kiss, and the fingers of his other hand run across my skin, leaving a tingling sensation. The sun goes down, replaced by the majestic moon, glinting brightly, light beaming through the open window of my room. The wind howls, entering through the window, cooling the room up. But Slate is there to keep me warm as he presses himself closer to me, closing the gap between us. He wraps his arms around me, and I do the same, resting my head on his clothed chest. He plants a kiss on my temple, and I sigh in contentment.

This is the time that I'm wishing that this moment will never end. Never would I have thought that I would become attached to a demon, but here I am, hugging a demon like my life depends on it, scared that he might go somewhere without me.

"You can sleep now," he murmurs and I snuggle closer, taking a sniff of his scent, one of the things that I have missed about him. "I'm not going anywhere. When you wake up, I'll still be here."

I merely nod at him in response, finally closing my eyes. I just realize how exhausted I am from just staying in bed. It must have been because of my excitement when Slate came back today; my energy must have been drained by it and not because of the fact that I'm sick. Finally, the moment comes; I'm slipping right through a portal where I'm going to be transported into a different world. But I'm wrong.

My dream has transported me back to my home – the Heavens.

Let me know your thoughts about this chapter? How do you feel about our Adrian being sick? Slate is being sweet. So sweet. It feels like ants are going to crawl their way tonight all over them in the bed *laughs* As usual, the first one to comment will have this chapter be dedicated for him/her!

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