Chapter 50

•**KAIA**•

I ended up staying until the sun dipped low outside the window, painting the walls in soft orange hues. Amir still hadn’t come back, and Adrien hadn’t woken up either. The dorm was quiet aside from the occasional creak of the building settling and the buzz of my phone when Amy sent a “u still alive?” text. I didn’t respond.

I let out a yawn and stretched out my arms, my joints cracking from sitting too long on their old couch. Just as I was about to grab my things and leave, I heard a muffled cough echoing from Adrien’s room.

Immediately, I stood up and hurried over. He was shifting under the covers, his face scrunching slightly as he tried to sit up.

I sat beside him and gently helped him up.

“Easy,” I said, grabbing the glass of water from the nightstand and holding it to his lips.

He sipped slowly, his eyes fluttering open completely this time. He blinked at me, looking like he was trying to make sense of whether I was actually real or just a weird fever dream.

“…Kaia?” His voice was rough, low.

“Yeah,” I nodded, setting the glass down. “I brought the soup you asked for. Amy had to run to class, so she asked me to drop it off instead.”

He gave a little stretch, wincing slightly. “What time is it?”

I checked my phone. “After six.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Wait—I’ve been out that long?”

I nodded. “Yup. Fever knocked you out good.”

He stared at me, really stared. “So you’ve been here… for hours?”

I hesitated, and then gave a small shrug. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”

There was a beat of silence as we locked eyes, something unspoken lingering in the space between us. Then I cleared my throat.

“Now that you’re awake, I’m going to heat up the soup.”

He smiled softly, like that simple act meant more to him than he was letting on. I took the soup from the bag, heated it up in the microwave, and brought it back in a bowl, steam curling up into the air.

“Here,” I said, placing it on the nightstand. “Help yourself.”

He looked up at me with those annoyingly sincere eyes.

“I would, but my arms still feel kinda weak… I don’t think I can feed myself.”

I stared at him. “Seriously?”

He gave me an innocent look—too innocent.

Groaning under my breath, I sat back down beside him and picked up the bowl.

“You’re so lucky you’re sick,” I muttered, scooping up the first spoonful.

I fed him slowly, and the entire time, he didn’t look away. His gaze stayed locked on me, soft but intense. I did everything in my power not to meet it, focusing instead on the bowl or his lips or anywhere that wasn’t his eyes.

I just wanted him to finish the soup. The sooner he did, the sooner I could leave and escape whatever tension was beginning to stretch between us like a rubber band on the verge of snapping.

Halfway through the bowl, he paused. His expression shifted—more serious now.

“Kaia…” he said quietly. “I appreciate you being here. You didn’t have to. Not after… the way we talked earlier. But you still came back. You stayed. You looked after me.”

I glanced at him and saw the honesty in his eyes. It hit me harder than I expected.

“You’re welcome,” I said, offering a small, genuine smile. “But you owe me now.”

He raised a brow. “How about those skating lessons?”

I considered it for a second. Free lessons from the top hockey player himself? I couldn’t lie—something about it sounded fun. Tempting, even.

“Deal.”

The moment stretched again, and I felt the eye contact begin to heat up. His gaze dipped to my lips for half a second too long, and I immediately stood up, clearing my throat.

“I should go,” I said quickly.

But before I could turn, he reached out and pulled me into a hug.

I froze.

Adrien never hugs. Like… never.

His arms were warm and heavy around me, and his voice was quiet against my shoulder.

“No one’s ever looked after me like this before,” he said. “I probably would’ve gotten worse if you hadn’t been here.”

The raw honesty in his tone made me soften. I slowly raised a hand and rubbed his back once, twice.

Then I gently pulled away. “Text me once you’re fully recovered, okay?”

He nodded, his eyes warm. Then he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, fingers brushing my cheek so lightly it sent a flutter down my spine.

His gaze flicked between my lips and my eyes again—and this time I knew.

“Alright,” I blurted, stepping back. “Get more rest.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I walked out and shut the door gently behind me before pressing my back against it and exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

If I’d stayed a second longer, I wouldn’t have been able to walk away.

Not with the way he was looking at me.

Not with the way I was starting to feel.