**Michelle**
“Let me help you out with it." I walked over to him after seeing him struggle even more with opening the paper.
He sighed and dropped his hand when I got to his side. I took off the wrapping with one tug and brought out the plate inside of it.
I placed it before him and tossed it in the trashcan at the other side of his office.
I looked back at him to see him eating with his left hand, his right hand was the one in the cast. Almost all the food in the spoon would go back into the plate before they get to his mouth.
He was almost getting nothing into his mouth and he looks really pissed.
“Do you need my help with that?" I asked him.
He snapped his head to my direction so fast and sharp that it was as though it was going to come off his shoulder.
“Can you just stop it already? I don't need your pity. And no, I can do this myself." He said with gritted teeth.
“You think I'm doing all these because I pity you?” I scoffed, moving closer to him.
"Why else? You're feeling pity because I left your house that night.” He said so confidently like he was so sure.
He really think that's the reason I'm helping him out? Well then, he can go ahead and believe anything he wants.
“Okay then, if you think that's the reason, it is. Let me finish pitying you then. I can't watch you eat this way when I'm the reason you're here." I went to stand beside him.
"How much more do you want me to spell it out for you? I don't need your f*cking help!” He roared.
I stood before him defiantly, “I'm not leaving, I need to finish my pity work. You're not able to eat well this way, I need to help you.” I said with my hand crossed over my waist.
Vincent ran his free hand through his hair, he let out an air of exasperation then reclined on his seat with his eyes closed.
There were beads of sweat on his forehead, down to his neck. His face was contoured in pain.
He looked even worse than it was when I came in. Is he feeling more sick?
I couldn't even control myself, I touched his forehead, I had to retract my hand immediately with how hot his forehead was. It was almost like a boiling water.
“You're burning up!" I yelled.
Vincent let out a groan, it was as though the words I said physically hurt him.
His head must be aching so bad with how he was sweating and how his temperature kept increasing.
“I need to get you to the hospital, fast.” I said with a tone of urgency as I put my hands around his arms.
“No, I'm not going to the hospital. I need to get to the room.” He mumbled under his breath.
“What room?" I asked as I frowned. Was he referring to his house?
Vincent opened his eyes abruptly and stood up without giving me any sign beforehand, he swayed sideways and held onto his table before he was steadied.
“Careful." I said as I helped him stand well.
“Where were you going?" I asked him and he slowly gestured at a door at the left side of his office.
I've always wondered what the door was for, his toilet was beside the door and I took him there with his arms around my shoulder.
I wondered how I didn't fall with how heavy his weight was, and it was solely on me.
I opened the door with so much difficulty as Vincent has almost lose consciousness. The doorknob wasn't yielding and soon enough, it beeped.
I looked at it with confusion, I was bound to fall anytime soon and this damned door kept beeping.
“It needs… my verification to be opened.” Vincent said, groaning.
"Is it your hand or what?" I asked.
“Here." He placed his hand on the doorknob and immediately it opened, he closed his eyes and fell on me completely that I also fell to the ground.
I groaned in pain as my buttcheeks made contact with the ground. Vincent laid still atop me, completely knocked out.
I turned us over so I was standing before him. It was almost impossible for me to lift him but I did.
I practically dragged him into the room. It had a double sized bed, a drawer and some other things. Moving him to the bed was another hassle as the bed was way higher than the bed.
I tried to lift him up and I only ended up laying him on the bed haphazardly. I was panting heavily by the time I was done with shifting him.
He opened his eyes blearily almost immediately, “Call… my doctor here.” He handed me his phone that was in his pocket
I took it from him but it required his face unlock. I forced him to open his eyes and the phone was unlocked.
I went to his contact list and searched for his doctor. I dialed the number immediately I saw it. The phone only rang for once before he picked the call.
“Mr Black.” A man's voice came on.
“Hi, am I onto Dr Christopher?" I rushed out the words as that was the only contact saved with a ‘doctor’ in front.
“Yes, who is this?" He asked.
“Vincent is really sick, he got involved in this accident and he has been sweating even under an air conditioner-” The man cut my ramblings off.
"Whoa! Whoa!! Slow down. Can you carefully explain what really happened to him?" He asked.
"He's really sick, can you come here quickly?” I said instead and I soon heard shiffling in the background.
"I'm on my way already, I'll be with him in a matter of minutes. He's at home right?" He asked.
“No, in his office. There's a room in there and he's passed out there.” I relayed.
"I thought I told him to stay at home. That boy never listens to me.” He sounded like he was rubbing.