Chapter 49

•**KAIA**•

I barely had time to lift it to my lips when the door flew open with a dramatic bang.

Amy stormed in, yelling something into her phone, a bag dangling from one arm, and her jacket half-hanging off her shoulder like she'd fought it mid-sprint.

"I'm almost there! Don't start without me!" she shouted, kicking the door shut with her foot while juggling the bag, phone, and jacket like a professional chaos magician.

I paused mid-sip, raising an eyebrow as I watched her fumble through her frantic routine. 

She finally ended the call, dropped the bag on the bed, and then she turned to me with wide, pleading eyes.

"Kaia. I need a favor."

I capped the bottle slowly, my stomach already sinking. 

"Okay... how big of a favor are we talking?"

"Adrien's dying."

I blinked. "What?"

"Well—not dying. Dramatically suffering. Migraine. He apparently called Mom asking about what meds to take and what kind of soup helps and blah blah. And Mom, being Mom, ordered soup from Golden Lotus and asked me to deliver it to him."

My throat tightened. "And you can't?"

She was already throwing notebooks into her bag. 

"I've got class in, like, five minutes. Our group is presenting first today—first, Kaia. If I'm late, I'm actually toast. Burnt toast. Please. Just drop the soup off at his dorm and bounce. You don't have to talk to him."

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I just left Adrien's dorm. I just told him we needed to stop... whatever this was. 

And now fate wanted to send me right back there?

"Can't Amir take it?" I tried weakly. "Or... Nate?"

Amy stopped mid-zip and looked at me like I had just suggested sacrificing her cat.

"Nate?" Her voice was flat. Cold. I held up a hand in surrender.

"Okay. Bad idea."

"You're the only one I trust with this," she said, grabbing the brown paper bag again and walking it over to me. "It's literally just soup. Drop it off and leave. Five minutes, tops."

I hesitated as she shoved it into my hands. My mind said no. Absolutely not. But my fingers were already curling around the handles.

But another part of me—the reckless, way-too-curious part—wondered how he was actually doing. 

He had looked... off when I saw him earlier. Pale. Unsteady. And even though I told myself it didn't matter anymore, it kind of did.

Amy slung her bag over her shoulder and blew me a kiss on her way to the door. 

"You're the best! I'll owe you one forever!"

And just like that, she was gone.

I stared down at the brown paper bag and sighed.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

But here I was... heading right back to Adrien Levont’s door like an idiot with soup.

OoO

I stood outside Adrien’s door with the brown paper bag in my hand, debating every life choice that led to this exact moment. 

My knuckles hovered over the door like they were waiting for a sign from the universe to turn around and walk away. But of course, the universe didn’t care.

I knocked once.

There was loud shuffling inside, some curse words I couldn’t quite make out, and then the door swung open like it had been yanked from pure frustration. 

Amir stood on the other side, half-dressed and struggling to shove his foot into a sneaker.

He blinked when he saw me. 

“Uh… Kaia?”

I sighed. “Great. You’re leaving too?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” I muttered, glancing past him into the dorm. “Where’s Adrien?”

“In his room,” he said, jerking a thumb behind him.

I handed him the bag. 

“Amy sent soup. Or well—you know, you asked for soup. Or Adrien did. I don’t know. Here.”

Amir took the bag, then gave me a sheepish smile. 

“Actually, do you mind giving it to him yourself? He’s like, dead. Can’t even move.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “He’s that bad?”

“Pretty much. I gotta go—I’m late for an appointment.” He squeezed past me, tossing a quick “Thanks, you’re a legend!” over his shoulder before jogging off down the hallway.

I exhaled through my nose and stepped into the dorm, shutting the door quietly behind me. The place was unusually quiet, just the hum of something electrical in the background. 

The kitchen counter felt like a safe place for the bag, so I dropped it there and glanced toward Adrien’s room.

His door was wide open.

I lingered at the edge of the hallway for a second before calling out, “I brought the soup you wanted. Amy couldn’t come—she had class.”

No answer.

I peeked inside.

Adrien was lying flat on his bed, one arm sprawled over his stomach, face turned slightly upward, his brows faintly furrowed. 

His skin had a pale sheen, and a thin layer of sweat clung to his forehead and neck. I took a step inside, then another, until I was standing beside his bed.

“Adrien?” I said softly.

No reply.

I leaned over and gently pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. My chest tightened—he was burning up. Like, full-on fever.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, panic lacing my voice.

I shook him carefully. “Hey—Adrien. Wake up.”

He barely moved, just mumbled a faint, “Hmm,” without opening his eyes.

I glanced at the window. The sunlight was pouring in way too aggressively for someone with a migraine and a fever. I hurried over and yanked the blinds shut, dimming the room instantly. 

Then I adjusted his pillow, lifted his head a little, and tucked his blanket properly over him.

His closet wasn’t exactly organized, but I rummaged through it until I found a clean towel. Then I filled a small basin with cool water from the sink and made my way back to him.

Sitting next to him again, I stared at his flushed face and messy hair, debating what the hell I was doing. But he looked so wrecked. So tired. 

“Fuck it,” I mumbled.

I dipped the towel into the cool water and wrung it out. Then I gently began to dab it over his forehead, across his temples, down to his jaw and neck. 

He twitched a little, but didn’t wake. I continued—his arms, his palms, his fingers. Slowly. Gently.

Once I was done, I searched through his drawers until I found a bottle of painkillers. I poured two into my hand, then grabbed a glass from the kitchen and filled it with cold water.

Sliding back to his bedside, I carefully wrapped one arm around his shoulders and sat him up, resting his head against my chest. He groaned faintly but didn’t resist.

“Adrien,” I said near his ear. “You need to take this. Just swallow and go back to sleep.”

I brought the glass to his lips and coaxed him to take a sip, then gently pressed the pills into his hand. He weakly placed them in his mouth and sipped again. 

A second later, he swallowed and let out a quiet cough before laying back down.

His eyes fluttered open for a moment, unfocused and heavy. He frowned at me like I was part of a dream he couldn’t trust.

“You owe me. Big time.”

He gave a soft grunt in response and closed his eyes again.

I picked up the basin and stepped out quietly, setting it aside before taking a seat in the living room. I told myself I’d just wait until he woke up again—just to make sure he was okay. 

If he didn’t get better soon, I’d have no choice but to drive his stubborn ass to the hospital.

I crossed my arms and leaned back into the couch.

This was not how my day was supposed to go.

And yet… here I was.