I carefully applied the last touches of my makeup, glancing anxiously at the clock. I was running late, but a surge of determination drove me to meet Cyrus. With a deep breath, I adjusted my outfit and made my way downstairs, my heart pounding with fear.
Just as I was about to step out the door, I heard footsteps approaching. I turned to see Grey and Blue standing in the hallway, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern.
“Hey, where are you going?” Grey asked, his tone sharper than usual.
I hesitated before replying, “Just out for a bit.”
Grey’s gaze narrowed. “Is it Cyrus you were talking about-the one who choked you?”
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t expected them to find out about Cyrus at all and now this. I nodded, trying to downplay the situation. “Yes, but it wasn’t a serious choking. It wasn’t violent.”
Grey’s frown deepened. “Even so, you’re still seeing him or what?”
I felt a surge of frustration. “It’s not as simple as you think. I need to handle things myself.”
Blue stepped closer, concern evident in his eyes. “Selena, Ezra just told us about Cyrus. We’re worried about you. Cyrus is not someone you should be seeing.”
My frustration boiled over. “I know you’re concerned, but I’m handling it. I need to go.”
Despite their protests, I opened the door and stepped outside, really needed to meet Cyrus and resolve our difficult situation. As I walked away, I could feel their concerned looks on my back, but I was firm in my decision.
I just hope they did not tell my father or my two wicked brothers. I do, however, trust blue and gray.
~~
I pushed open the door to Cyrus’s house, a small smile tugging at my lips as memories of our last encounter flashed through my mind. Shaking off the lingering thoughts, I walked quietly through the hallway, making my way to his room. I had told him I would come by, but I hadn’t mentioned I was already here.
As I entered his room, I found Cyrus lying on the bed, his face partially obscured by the mess of his dark hair. The sight of him relaxed and vulnerable was almost serene, and I couldn’t help but smile softly as I approached him.
I leaned in closer, taking in his features with a mixture of affection and concern. His face was handsome, but something was unsettling about how still he was. Gently, I brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and touched his face.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized his skin felt unnaturally warm. I pulled my hand back, a jolt of worry shooting through me. “Cyrus?” I whispered, leaning closer to assess his condition. The high temperature was more than a little alarming.
I sat down beside him, my eyes scanning his face, hoping he would stir or give me some sign that he was okay.
As Cyrus slowly opened his eyes and focused on me, a soft smile touched his lips. “Hey, Selena,” he murmured.
I immediately noticed the feverish glow on his cheeks. “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice filled with concern.
He tried to reassure me with a weak smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”
I touched his forehead, startled by the intense heat radiating from him. “You’re not fine. You’re burning up. We need to get you to the hospital.”
Cyrus shook his head slowly, though his expression was more pained than resolute. “I don’t think it’s necessary. I’m sure it’s just a fever. I’ve had worse.”
I looked at him firmly, my worry palpable. “No, Cyrus. This isn’t just a fever. We have to go. You need to be checked out.”
He hesitated, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. Despite his reluctance, he didn’t argue further, letting out a sigh as he shifted to sit up.
“Selena… I am okay,” he trailed off, trying to sit up, but I gently pushed him back down.
“I hate to see you like this,” I said, my hands moving to his neck and then his forehead. The heat of his fever was undeniable, and his weak smile tugged at my heart.
“Come lay with me,” he said softly, and I hesitated for a moment before sighing in resignation.
“Have you taken any medicine for the fever?” I asked, searching his face for an honest answer.
He nodded slightly. “Yes.”
“Are you lying?” I asked with a hint of disbelief.
He managed a weak chuckle. “No. Come here, baby girl. I need you.”
I settled beside Cyrus, the heat from his body radiating against mine as I tried to make him comfortable. He looked at me with a mixture of affection and weariness. Despite my worry, a soft, reassuring smile crossed his lips.
He reached for me, his hand gently brushing against my cheek. “You make everything better, you know,” he murmured, his voice hushed but full of sincerity.
I leaned in closer, my fingers resting on his damp forehead. “I’m worried about you,” I said softly. “Your fever’s high. We should go to the hospital.”
Cyrus shook his head, his eyes half-closed with exhaustion. “Selena, please. Just stay here with me. It’ll make me feel better.”
Before I could respond, he tilted his head slightly, attempting to kiss me. I gently pulled back, my heart aching with concern. “Cyrus, we need to focus on getting you well. You can’t be thinking about kissing me right now.”
He gave a weak smile and took my hand, his grip slightly feeble. “I just need you here with me. It’ll help me get through this.”
I sighed, but my resolve softened. “Alright, but we’re going to get you checked out as soon as you feel a bit better. No more arguments.”
Cyrus nodded slowly, his eyes closing in relief as he settled back against the pillows. I stayed close, keeping my hand on his forehead and feeling the intensity of his fever. Despite his insistence, I couldn’t shake the worry from my mind.
He moved closer, his lips brushing softly against my cheeks as his arms encircled my waist. The warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with his feverish heat.
“You make me feel so safe,” he murmured against my neck, his voice a low, comforting whisper. I smiled, my own hands finding their way around his neck.
“You’ll be okay soon,” I assured him, my voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at me. He nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to my neck, his affection unwavering even in his weakened state.
“Sleep,” I said softly, my fingers lightly patting his hair.
“Mm,” he moaned in agreement, a sigh escaping his lips as he settled against me.
“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight,” I replied, holding him close as he drifted off.
~~
I woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. My gaze settled on Cyrus’s peaceful face, and I noticed that his fever had subsided. Relieved, I smiled and looked outside to see the bright, sunny day. I should have been panicking about what my family might think, but right then, I didn’t care. All that mattered was being with Cyrus. I reached out to touch his forehead and found that his temperature had returned to normal. Gently, I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him.
I placed a soft kiss on his forehead before heading to the kitchen. In the kitchen, I began to prepare breakfast. scrambled eggs, toasted bread, and brewed a pot of coffee. The sizzle of bacon in the pan filled the room with a warm aroma. I arranged everything on a tray: fluffy scrambled eggs, golden toast, and a steaming cup of coffee. Quietly, I returned to Cyrus’s room and set the tray beside him.
Watching him sleep peacefully, I felt a surge of happiness.
I carefully place the tray on the nightstand, trying not to make a sound. The aroma of breakfast fills the room, and I hope it will help wake him up. I sit on the edge of the bed and gently brush a strand of hair from his face.
“Cyrus,” I whisper, leaning in close. “Wake up. I made us breakfast.”
He stirs, blinking slowly as he takes in the sight of me sitting beside him. A faint smile plays on his lips. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice still husky from sleep.
“Morning,” I reply, smiling back. “How do you feel?”
“Much better,” he says, his eyes scanning the tray beside him. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
I shrug, reaching out to adjust his pillow. “I wanted to. You were sick, and I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
He sits up with a wince but manages to flash me a grateful smile. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”
I sit back and watch as he takes a bite of the scrambled eggs. His eyes close briefly in appreciation. “These are great,” he says, and I laugh softly.
“I’m glad you think so,” I say, reaching for the coffee cup and handing it to him. “I figured a good breakfast would help you recover faster.”
As he sips his coffee, I can’t help but feel content. Watching him enjoy the meal and seeing him look better fills me with a sense of peace.
“It does make me feel better,” Cyrus murmurs, leaning in to give me a light kiss on the lips.
“That’s good,” I reply with a smile, leaning in for another kiss when the door suddenly bursts open.
My eyes widen as Ezra and Reggie storm into the room, their faces etched with anger.
“I guessed right,” Reggie says, his tone laced with disdain. I scramble to my feet, facing them.
“Why the hell did you spend the night here?” Ezra demands, his voice sharp.
“He’s not well,” I respond, pointing to Cyrus, who looks up at us with a mix of concern and weariness.
“Lies,” Ezra retorts.
“It’s more like you both just finished fucking,” Reggie adds, his comment making me frown in disbelief.
“You speak like a fool most of the time,” I shoot back.
“Says the slut,” Reggie snaps.
“That is your sister, Reggie. Have some respect,” Cyrus interjects, his voice firm despite his weakened state.
“Says who? You? You just want to use her and dump her like you do with other girls? A round of applause for yourself, boy,” Reggie sneers.
“Let’s go home, Lena,” Ezra says, his tone brooking no argument.
“I will, but I’m still busy. He’s not well,” I insist, gesturing towards Cyrus.
“Oh, you’re his nurse now?” Reggie mocks.
“Shut up, Reggie,” Ezra commands, stepping closer to me.
“I won’t repeat myself, Lena,” he says, pointing firmly towards the door.
“Maybe if you concentrated more on Eva, you’d be a better father and-” I’m abruptly cut off by a sharp, stinging sensation on my face. Ezra’s slap lands hard, sending a jolt of pain through me. I stumble, the room spinning for a moment as I try to steady myself.
Cyrus’s face turns from calm to furious in an instant as he sees the slap land on my face. Without a word, he forces himself to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate despite his weakened state. His eyes are locked on Ezra, blazing with anger.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Cyrus says through gritted teeth, his voice filled with a harsh edge.
Ezra, momentarily taken aback by Cyrus’s reaction, stands his ground, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Reggie steps forward, ready to intervene, but Cyrus raises a hand, stopping him.
“You have no right to hit her,” Cyrus continues, his tone icy and firm. “If you have a problem, deal with me, but don’t lay a hand on her.”
I’m still reeling from the sting of the slap, my face burning and my vision blurred with tears. Cyrus’s support makes me feel a little steadier, though. His fierce defense and the way he stands up for me in the face of my brothers’ anger only reinforce how much he means to me.
Ezra’s expression is a mix of anger and regret as he takes in the sight of Cyrus standing up for me. “Get out of my way, Cyrus,” he says, though his voice lacks conviction.
Cyrus doesn’t move, his stance resolute. “Not until you apologize to her.”
The tension in the room is palpable, and each second feels painfully stretched. Their argument is heating up, and I can not decide whether to back down or try to diffuse the tension.
Finally, Ezra’s face softens, and he looks at me with a conflicted expression. “Selena, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I didn’t respond to Ezra. Instead, I hurried toward Cyrus, intending to guide him back to the bed. But before I could reach him, Reggie closed the distance between us. He roughly yanked my hands away from Cyrus, then threw a powerful punch to Cyrus’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.
Horror gripped me as I tried to pull Reggie off Cyrus, but he didn’t budge. My eyes darted to Ezra, hoping he would step in, but he remained unmoved by the doorway.
“Please, stop this!” I begged, attempting to hit Reggie’s back, but he ignored me. Tears blurred my vision as I saw Cyrus lying there, his condition worsening.
Finally, Reggie stepped back, and Cyrus remained crumpled on the floor, his face smeared with blood. I rushed to him, kneeling beside him in anguish.
“Cyrus, are you okay?” I cried, my voice choked with emotion. I touched his face, but there was no response. My panic escalated as I turned to my brothers, who stood at the room’s entrance, watching coldly.
“He isn’t breathing!” I yelled, my voice breaking with fear.
“Oh, stop exaggerating,” Reggie said dismissively.
My hands shook as I tried to shake Cyrus awake. “Cyrus, wake up!” I pleaded, slapping his face desperately, but he remained unconscious.
“I’m not exaggerating!” I screamed, my voice filled with terror. Ezra rushed to us, looking at Cyrus with wide eyes.
“Cyrus!” Ezra shouted, shaking him, but there was no response. His face turned pale as he realized the gravity of the situation.
“What have you done?” I yelled, my eyes brimming with tears as I glared at Reggie, who was standing by, expressionless.
TBC