After blowdrying my hair, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Mr. Bennet's words are still stuck in my head.

My gaze darts on my phone sitting on my dresser, and I swipe the screen to see the notes I saved earlier. The feelings. The feelings that Aiden can't feel anymore.

Thinking about this only makes my heart clench with pain. Aiden used to feel so much, only to feel nothing in the end.

I sigh, get up from the dresser bench, and walk out of my room to get some water. By the time I arrive in the kitchen, I notice Ian placing a tray of food on the counter.

I take a closer look. It's chicken soup, quite mouthwatering. It smells so damn good.

"It's for Aiden," Ian says while preparing the drink. "He hasn't had anything since he collapsed."

My heart sinks again, knowing that Aiden is still not feeling well. 

I open the fridge, take out a bottle of cold infused water, and pour it into a glass. After taking a large gulp of it, I huff. When I turn my head, Ian is nowhere in sight.

My eyes travel to the dining room, but he's not there either. I stare at the bowl of chicken soup sitting on the tray.

Wasn't Ian supposed to bring this to Aiden? Where did he go?

I lean against the counter, resting my elbows on it as I wait. Minutes pass, but Ian hasn't come back yet.

Now that I take a look at the chicken soup again, I'm afraid that it might get cold. It's better for Aiden to eat it while it's still hot.

Ian might be busy with other chores, so I decide to bring this to Aiden. I take the tray and walk to Aiden's room.

When I arrive in front of his slightly opened door, I spot him sitting on his bed. He's staring blankly ahead. There's sadness in his eyes.

The sight gives me a mixture of feelings. My heart thumps, and I don't know why it beats faster. It's suddenly hard to breathe, and my chest tightens to the point that it hurts.

Why do I feel like crying just by looking at him? Why do I feel this kind of emotion?

Slowly, I take a deep breath and knock on the door. Aiden turns his head toward me when I push the door.

He's taken aback, not expecting me to be here. He straightens his back against the headboard.

"I"m sorry," I say. "I just want to bring you food. Ian cooked this for you."

He watches as I place the tray on his nightstand. "Thank you," he whispers, and my heart flutters.

I don't know why such simple words from him can make me feel this way. I can even feel my cheeks heat up.

I nod, responding with a small smile. Just when I'm about to turn around, he calls, "Nevaeh."

He has a serious look on his face. Guilt crosses his expression.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I haven't apologized to you for what happened in the painting room. I shouldn't have been that harsh on you because of the pot. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I was an ass-"

"No, no," I cut him off. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have touched--"

"No, I was being a jerk," Aiden insists. "I don't even deserve your forgiveness."

He looks down, gripping the bedsheet tightly with his shaking hand. He's so angry with himself, and that makes me frown. What has gotten into him?

"Come on. Let's not think about that anymore, shall we?" I say cheerfully, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

When he doesn't say anything back, I add, "By the way, the soup smells so good. I think you should try it before it gets cold."

Aiden shifts his attention to the food tray on his nightstand. "Ah. You're right," he says in a hoarse voice. It seems that he finally realizes that he should get his energy back.

Does he feel terribly hungry? Or is he still feeling nauseous? He hasn't eaten anything after too much vomiting.

"Is it chicken soup?" he asks.

"It is," I say, still in a cheerful tone, hoping that he'll take it.

Aiden moves closer to the nightstand, but before I can help him, the tray almost slips from his hand. Fortunately, I catch and steady it just in time.

I frown, thinking that he's still feeling dizzy. "Are you alright?" I put the tray back on the nightstand without shifting my attention from him.

He nods. "Yeah."

That doesn't sound convincing, though. His voice still sounds weak.

I place my palm on his forehead to check his temperature, startling him. I check the temperature on my forehead too, and his is indeed higher than mine.

His face reddens, and that confirms my assumption. Oh my, he's still burning.

While he stares at me with mouth agape, I place my hands on other parts of his face to double-check his temperature. I cup his cheeks, and his face turns even deeper red.

Oh God, this is not good. He's indeed still having the fever. I doubt that he can feed himself with this condition.

"You're burning," I say.

Aiden chokes. A small cough escapes from his mouth.

"Let me help you with the food." I sit beside him on the bed and take the bowl of chicken soup. "Do you want me to..." I falter, hesitating, "feed you?"

Aiden stares at me with a lost expression.

"I mean, I'm sure that you need to eat before taking the medicine," I add.

Aiden's eyes fall on the bowl of chicken soup I'm holding on my lap. "Ah. Right."

I look at him with a questioning look. "Okay?"

He swallows. "Okay." His voice is barely a whisper.

I let out a soft chuckle before taking one spoon of the soup. I raise my eyebrows at him, and he opens his mouth slowly. I feed him carefully, and he swallows the food.

"Is it good?" I ask.

Aiden nods. "Yeah."

I sigh in relief. Happily, I take another spoon and feed him again. This time, he smiles softly, and I feel something going crazy inside my tummy. Something like...butterflies.

Hold on. What am I thinking about?

While I'm about to scold myself for having such an absurd thought, I notice that something else catches Aiden's attention. He throws a sharp look -- almost like a glare -- at something behind me. When I turn around, I find Ian trying to hold his chuckle.

I didn't even notice him coming in.

"Sorry," Ian says. His voice is rich with amusement. "I was just wondering where my tray went." With that said, he walks off, leaving me speechless.

I continue feeding Aiden until he finishes his meal, and the sight of the empty bowl makes my heart soar with satisfaction. I place it back on the nightstand before helping Aiden with his drink and medicine.

"You can have a good rest now." I can't help the smile on my face. I adjust his pillow for him to lay his head on.

Aiden sighs and closes his eyes. I sigh in relief and turn on my heels, but then Aiden's voice stops me, "Wait."

He eyes me with a hopeful look. "Will you stay here a little longer?"

I don't know how to respond. My feet, however, are already nailed onto the ground.

To my surprise, Aiden shuts his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers, as though he didn't mean to ask me that. "I should have known that you have classes--"

"I don't," I cut him off, surprised at how quickly I correct him.

Aiden looks up at me, and I swallow. "I really...don't," I add in such a small voice.

Why am I suddenly feeling shy?

"Do you like movies?" He turns on the TV, switching the channel.

"Movies?" I echo, watching as he opens Netflix.

He nods, scanning the list of the movies. "Do you want to watch a movie with me?"

I chuckle lightly. "Why not? I'd love to."

He moves, leaving a space in the bed for me. I gladly occupy the space beside him and lean back against the headboard.

He hands me the remote, expecting me to choose the movie. "Please." A small smirk touches the corner of his lips.

I giggle, knowing what I want to watch. Something enjoyable. Something funny.

"Any preference?" I ask.

"Anything."

I laugh a little. "You're kinda bored, aren't you?"

"To death," he mutters, but I can see that he's joking.

We end up watching an adventure comedy movie, and it seems that he doesn't have any problem with that. I don't know whether he really enjoys it or not, but I hope that it's refreshing enough for him to take his mind off what's bothering him. Besides, I've never seen him watch anything other than the news on TV -- it was always about politics and the economy.

Before I know it, I'm already engrossed in the movie. When a funny scene plays, I burst out laughing.

"That's hilarious." I turn my head toward him, only to find that he's watching me with adoration, as though he's never watched someone laughing.

Aiden tears his gaze away from me, returning his eyes to the TV. A soft smile still lingers on his lips.

My heart is racing, and I'm totally doomed. I'm doomed because I can't focus on the movie anymore.

What the hell is wrong with me?

We watch the movie in silence now, and I wonder why being close to him like this makes me feel mixed emotions. I'm nervous, but there's something else too. Something I can't explain.

"Nevaeh," Aiden whispers my name, and I swear that my heart almost stops.

I look at him, finding his beautiful amber eyes staring back at me.

"Can I rest my head on your shoulder?" he asks.

I nod, and Aiden rests his head on my shoulder. He closes his eyes. He must be feeling tired. I shift my attention back to the TV, trying to calm my heartbeat.

"Thank you." He lets out a soft sigh of contentment. "Heaven."

"Heaven?"

"It's your name spelled backward, isn't it?"

I don't respond to that because it's a rhetorical question.

None of us says anything after that. The next thing I feel is Aiden's steady breathing on my neck. He's asleep.

A soft smile touches my lips, and I'm not even aware of it.

Right at this very moment, I feel happy.

I'm happy to be here by his side.