When we arrived at the hotel, there was initially one room, but I asked for two adjacent rooms instead.
Alexander helped me settle my things. "You've been on the train for so long. Take a hot bath, get some rest, and we'll go out when you feel better. I'm next door, call me if you need anything."
I nodded. "Mm."
He gave me a small smile. "Good girl."
For a brief moment, he seemed like the 18-year-old Alexander, and I found myself greedily studying his features.
Eventually, I looked away.
He seemed a little awkward.
"I'll go next door. Oh, do you want me to bring you food?"
I murmured, "No, I've brought some ready meals. I'll eat whenever I wake up."
He stood, turning to leave.
As he approached the door, his figure blurred in my vision, like he was about to disappear.
Instinctively, I called out, "Alexander."
He turned around, a familiar smile on his face. "What is it, Seraphina? Want me to stay and keep you company?"
My eyes felt dry, and I hurriedly looked down. "You're tired too. Take some food to your room."
He walked over and briefly hugged me. "Okay."
I sat in the bathtub, silently crying.
The 18-year-old Alexander—how long it had been since I felt that warmth.
I wasn't sure how long I stayed in the bath, but the water had grown cold. Shivering, I climbed out and took a quick shower before collapsing into bed.
I woke up to excruciating pain. I had no idea how long I had been asleep, but every bone in my body ached. My eyelids felt too heavy to open, and my throat was parched, burning with fever.
I raised my hand to my forehead—it was burning.
Damn, I had a fever.
My whole body felt like jelly. Even trying to get a glass of water felt impossible.
Groggily, I pulled out my phone and tried calling Alexander.
The phone rang until it automatically hung up. He didn't answer.
I called several more times, but no luck.
Frustrated, I gathered what little strength I had and forced myself to drink some water.
The symptoms were definitely like the flu, and checking the time, I saw it wasn't even midnight yet. I planned to ask Alexander to take me to the hospital.
I tried calling him again, with the same result—no answer.
Was he asleep?
In agony, I dragged my aching body to his room and knocked weakly on the door, my voice hoarse. "Alexander, open the door."
"Who is it? Who's knocking in the middle of the night? Go away."
The door opened.
Alexander was only wearing an outer jacket. When he saw me, his face became frantic.
Underneath the jacket, his chest was bare, with a faint, suggestive red mark on his collarbone.
