Back at my dorm, the moment I opened the door, a wave of cold hit me. I turned on the heater, changed out of my wet clothes into something warm, and settled down with a cup of hot chocolate. I thought it would make me feel better, but it didn't. Within minutes, I was coughing, sneezing, and shivering. My nose turned red, my throat burned, and that was when it finally hit me — I was getting sick. Badly.
Chris had warned me that playing in the rain could get me sick. Of course, I didn't listen and now look at me. How was I supposed to handle this alone? What about school? And the Freshers Fair Penelope and I were excited to explore? I kept asking myself questions out loud, as if someone was there to answer. I tried to sleep, but sleep refused to come, and my head was pounding. I finally took some pain relief medication. After that, I managed to get some sleep. When I woke up, it was already morning.
My eyes hurt from the brightness of the light. I had hoped to feel better by then, but I felt worse. I tried getting up, but I couldn't even lift my body from the bed. I was so weak and dizzy. I reached for my phone, picked it up, and tried calling Penelope, but it didn't go through. Then I called Chris. He picked up on the first ring, and I told him my situation. Since he already knew where I lived, he was the best person to call.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I told you not to play in the rain, but you didn't listen. Now see what you caused. Should I come over to help you?" he asked, sounding genuinely worried.
"No, no. Don't bother. Just go to school and enjoy the Freshers Fair for me. When you close, please come see me," I said weakly.
"Oh, and please tell Penelope about my fever and the Freshers Fair," I added.
"Alright, got to go. I'll see you later today. Take care of yourself. Bye," he said before hanging up.
After the call, I managed to get up and take a hot shower. Afterward, I put on a soft purple dress, drank a small cup of coffee, and fell asleep again.
When I woke up later, I felt a bit stronger. I decided to tidy up my apartment so it wouldn't look like a sick person lived there, before Chris arrived. By the time I was done, it was around 4:00 p.m., so I decided to take a short stroll outside. It wasn't long before I felt cold again, so I quickly returned home and lay down on my bed. Shortly after, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in, the door is open!" I called out in my shivering voice. Chris stepped in, looking concerned with his sad face.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes. "What do you think? Of course, I'm not okay, idiot."
He let out a small smile. "Right. Sorry I asked. Obviously, you're not okay. Silly me. I told you not to play in the rain, but you didn't listen. Now see what it caused? Stubborn lass."
"Oh, this little sickness isn't going to stop me from playing in the rain next time. Never," I retorted.
He lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, I give up. Do what you want, but I won't be a part of it. Count me out. You're too stubborn; please reduce your stubbornness."
"I'm not stubborn, am I? Whatever. And oh, you are going to be a part of it," I replied with a big grin.
He rolled his eyes, and we both laughed.
"You're such a dumbass," I teased, nudging him gently.
"Excuse me!" he said, mock-offended, though his eyes sparkled.
"Dumbass! Don't you get it? Wait… you don't even know what dumbass means," I laughed softly, brushing against his arm.
"What does dumbass mean?" he asked, genuinely confused but leaning slightly closer.
"Oh goodness… you're hopeless," I whispered, shaking my head, my heart fluttering at the closeness.
We laughed and talked for a long time while he took care of me just like Mom would. He had bought some medicine on his way back from school and even cooked soup, something I never thought he could do and surprisingly, it tasted amazing. Miracles do happen.
In my mind, one thought slipped out softly: 'is he the one for me'.
"Mmm, amazeballs! This soup is so good. I never knew you could cook!" I said.
He puffed his chest proudly. "Oh, there are still many things you don't know about me and you'll never know. I learned to cook from my mom."
"Okay, like what? You've been in juvie? You don't live with your parents because of some terrible past? You do drugs? Or kill someone? No — just tell me what you're hiding that could surprise me. Honestly, these things don't matter to me at all. The past is in the past, like my mom said. Besides, I have my ways of finding out," I said, winking.
"What... how... I mean... your way of finding out... who... um... how..." Chris stammered, clearly rattled.
"Hey, chill out. I was just kidding. It's not like you could've actually done any of those things, right? Relax, okay? You're acting like you committed a crime," I said, patting his arm to reassure him.
He stood up quickly. "Um. Yes, of course. I'm going to get some fresh air. I'll be right back."
Did I say something wrong? I wondered. I stood up and went to look for him. I found him lying on the grass.
"Hey," I said as I approached.
"Hey," he replied, sitting up.
"I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to offend you. I was just kidding, okay?" I said, touching his shoulder in reassurance.
He looked at me, staring deep into my eyes. I began to feel nervous. Then he suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! You're so naive and gullible," he said, shaking his head with a soft smile. "I'm not mad at you. You apologize too easily— which is sweet, but you really need to control it." He reached out gently and touched my cheek. "Such an innocent little soul."
"What is wrong with you? It's not funny, Chris. I even thought you were mad," I glared at him then turning away angrily.
"There you go again, getting angry too easily. You need to control your emotions, Felicity. If not, people will take advantage of you."
I didn't reply. I was still upset, so I kept silent. He kept talking, but I didn't respond.
"Come on, Felicity. Don't give me the silent treatment, please," he nudged me playfully.
I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me down. My heart skipped a bit.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. But what I said isn't wrong though," he said.
I turned around and looked at him and let out a breath. "Okay then, teach me how to control it, dumbass."
"I'll be delighted, darling," Chris said.
"What was that? What did you call me?" I asked.
"Oh, I was just trying to repay evil with good. You called me a dumbass, so I called you darling. Besides, Mr. 'Not Too Cool' isn't the only one who can call you sweet names. I've got a few up my sleeve too," he said with a smile.
I sniffed the air dramatically. "Is that jealousy I smell? You're such a drama king."
"Haha, very funny," Chris said, pretending to be serious.
"Don't get corny. You're not my type," he added.
"Oh? Who, then, is your 'type'?" I asked, making quotation marks with my fingers.
"Don't even go there. Not now," Chris said.
"Okay, relax, geez. When you find 'your type,' let me know, okay?" I said.
He looked at me and we both laughed.
>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
I woke up right on time to go to work, then to school. I did my daily routine and set off for work. While working, Felicity called. Her voice sounded weak and sick, and my chest tightened instantly. After the call ended, I couldn't stop worrying about her. At the Freshers Fair, I wandered between booths, but my mind wasn't there. I kept wondering how Felicity was coping. At the end of the day, I decided to buy some medicine and go straight to her place. When I knocked, she told me to come in.
She was sick, so I decided to take care of her. She looked pale and fragile, but she still smiled and insulted me like normal. I made her soup and tried to cheer her up. For a moment, everything felt right. We talked and laughed for a long time until she said something that hit me harder than she realized. She joked about my past. She had no idea how close she'd gotten. I stepped outside to calm myself and get some fresh air, and when I lay on the grass, she came looking for me and when she touched me, something inside me softened. I teased her, she got annoyed, and somehow we ended up laughing again.
When I said, "I'm not your type," I knew I was lying. She was exactly my type — completely mine, if I'm being honest. My problem was simple: I couldn't be hers.
Not with my life.
"By the way, I know exactly what dumbass is. I'm just kidding," I added.
"Ah. Okay… what does it mean?" she asked.
"It means foolish — which I'm clearly not."
"Oh, you're not? Is that true?" she said sarcastically.
"Okay, I think that's sarcasm I hear."
We both burst into laughter again. I reached for her hand and she reached for mine. The moment our fingers touched, something electric passed through me — a spark I couldn't ignore.
We looked at each other, leaning in at the same time, both of us almost kissing…until Felicity snapped back to reality, breaking the moment. The air turned awkward instantly.
She cleared her throat softly, her cheeks warm.
"Um… maybe we should go inside," she said with a small, shy smile. "It's getting cold."
I nodded, grateful for the gentle escape.
"Yeah… inside sounds good."
We stood up together, brushing grass off our clothes, walking back slowly — still close, still warm, still full of unspoken wonders. That evening, as the sun was setting, I asked,
"So let's change the subject. Let's talk about you."
She narrowed her eyes at me, amused. "Why? You never tell me anything about yourself or your family, so why should I tell you about me? And you still haven't told me your type. Tell me all that first, then I'll tell you everything about myself. Capiche?"
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Wow… you're amazing — and fair. That's actually reasonable."
The conversation flowed easily after that. We talked, joked, teased each other, and before we knew it, the sky outside had already darkened. Time had slipped away from us.
"Hey… I should get going," I murmured, glancing at the window.
"Oh, right. It's getting late," she said, already stepping forward. "Let me walk you out."
I gently stopped her with a small wave of my hand. "No, no. Stay and rest. I want you back in school Monday, okay?"
Her shoulders dropped a little. "Okay. It's just sad Penelope couldn't come."
"Yeah. Maybe she got caught up with something."
"Maybe," she echoed, her voice softening with disappointment.
I nudged her lightly with my elbow. "Hey, cheer up. You'll see her Monday."
A tiny smile returned to her face. "Alright good night."
"Sweet dreams," I whispered, backing away with a playful wink. "Kisses."
She just smiled as she watched me go with my hands tucked into my pockets. The moment I left, a strange loneliness hit me. By the time I got home, it felt even heavier. I lay on my bed, trying to sleep, but it wouldn't come. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Felicity — the day we met, the way she laughed in the rain, the way she teased me, even how she looked so small and tired on her bed. The memories played over and over, soft and stubborn. Somehow, they made me smile. And eventually, without realizing it, I drifted into sleep… still thinking about her.