She looked over at him, noticing the shivering and closing it again with a frown. She returned to his side, brushing his hair back gently. "You're a sweet one, Aidan Emerson.. But now isn't a good time for this."
He looked up at her tiredly, giving her a small grin. For a moment, he looked almost childlike. “Now isn’t the time for what?” he asked, leaning into her touch.
"Talking like that," she told him, standing up. "I'm going to get you a wet cloth. Stay here." She left the room, closing the door.
She returned a minute later with a small cloth with cool water. She came over and put it on his forehead.
She nodded, her expression soft. "Of course. I'm sorry you don't feel well. Hopefully it'll get better soon."
He watched her, his voice hazy. “I really meant it, you know,” he told her lowly. “I think you’re wonderful.”
He leaned back in the pillows, closing his eyes. “I’m not very good at saying this stuff when my mind is on straight,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a small smile. "That's alright. I appreciate it. Try to get some more sleep, alright? I'll stay here and make sure you don't strike another fever."
He gave her a small smile before leaning back. "You think I'm wonderful too," he teased, tapping her nose.
He gave her a smile, squeezing her hand. "Don't worry," he said, closing his eyes as he let go of her hand. "I won't remember that you said that."
