Dream Fever and Truth.
Damien changed out of his suit into something more casual, black sweatpants and a plain black shirt. Then he returned to the room carrying a basin of cold water, a towel, and a thermometer. Without saying a word, he sat beside Eva, who was still unconscious, her face flushed and her body slightly trembling under the covers.
He began by placing a cool, damp towel on her forehead. Every few minutes, he swapped it out, repeating the process in quiet determination. Then he gently checked her temperature, it was still worryingly high. He sighed, reached for his phone, and called a nearby pharmacy, ordering fever reducers, vitamin C, and electrolyte sachets to be delivered immediately.
He dimmed the lights, adjusted the room temperature, and made sure she was comfortable. Then, remembering what Eric had said, he went a step further, he gently wiped down her neck and arms with the cold towel, trying to bring her fever down. He even set a timer on his phone to ensure he didn't fall asleep and forget to check on her every thirty minutes.
When the pharmacy delivery arrived, he signed for it personally, quickly skimmed the instructions, and prepared the medication, after which he ordered a warm bowl of chicken broth from the hotel lobby.
Finally, he came to her side and gently touched her shoulder.
"Eva," he said softly, "Wake up. You need to eat something and take your medicine."
She stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. When they finally settled on his face, her lips parted slightly.
"Damien…? Is that you? Damien?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
To his shock, she reached up and cupped his face with both hands, her touch soft and trembling. Damien froze. His breath hitched. For a second, just one second, he swore he saw Tyler. The exact same look, the same gentleness in the eyes, the same fevered gaze.
Then, without warning, Eva pulled him closer and kissed him. Her lips were warm and clumsy, desperate and familiar. Damien's entire body went stiff. He didn't kiss her back, he couldn't. His mind raced, confused and stunned. This kiss, it was Tyler's kiss. Wild at first, but slowly finding rhythm. It felt like falling back in time.
He couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could only feel. Her lips, her breath, even the faint strawberry scent clinging to her skin, it was all too familiar. Then a thought, intrusive and impossible, crept in like a whisper: the birthmark. That teardrop-shaped birthmark on her upper thigh.
Against his better judgment, Damien acted on impulse. His hands went to her waist, slowly pulling at the waistband of her trousers, as if confirming the truth would silence the chaos in his mind.
But then, suddenly, Eva blinked. The fog in her eyes lifted. Her body stiffened as she became fully aware of her surroundings, and the position they were in. Her lips still on Damien's. Her hands still on his face. His fingers tugging at her waistband.
Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God," she gasped, and scrambled to move away, almost falling off the bed in the process. Damien caught her instinctively, steadying her.
They locked eyes.
He studied her carefully, eyes narrowed, as if trying to read a truth she was determined to hide. But then he sighed and pulled back, realizing at that moment he had already gone too far. And she was still running a fever.
He stepped back, seeing the situation for what it was, he realized she might misunderstand, thinking he was trying to take advantage of her in her vulnerable state. But there was no way he could explain himself without making it worse, how was he supposed to explain he wanted to take off her trousers to confirm if she has a birthmark the shape of a teardrop, just because he thought for a second that she looked like his ex girlfriend, sounds stupid and fabricated.
So he straightened his shirt, and cleared his throat. He didn't need to explain himself, he doubted she'd believe him if he tried.
"I'm so sorry, sir," Eva blurted, her voice shaky."I… I mistook you for my, erh, my boyfriend," she lied, without blinking.
There was no way she could admit that she'd been having that occurrence dream about him, again, that she'd thought she was still in that dream when she kissed him. That she'd felt safe in it.
Damien scoffed, clearly annoyed."You're not feeling well, so I'll let it pass,"he muttered flatly.
He turned away, reached for the food tray, and pushed it toward her with a stern face.
"Eat," he ordered firmly.
With trembling hands, Eva obeyed as she picked up the spoon.Though the food tasted like dry weeds in her mouth, dry, bland, meaningless. But she ate anyways as she forced it down, bite after bite, avoiding Damien's eyes as if his gaze might burn her.
And Damien sat beside her. Silent. Distant. His eyes scrutinizing her.
When she finally finished eating, Damien handed her a few pills and a glass of water.
Eva stared at the medicine like it was poison. Her heart sank. How could she explain it to him, her irrational hatred for drugs? She'd rather take a bullet to the head than swallow a single pill. Everyone and their cousins knows that about her, the most reasons why she never falls sick. And if she ever did, she'd rather sleep it off than touch a tablet.
But under Damien's intense, expectant gaze, his arms folded, his brow lifted, his eyes scanning her like an x-ray, she felt cornered.
With a forced smile, she placed the pills on her tongue and swallowed them quickly.
Big mistake.
Within seconds, her stomach churned violently. She grabbed the side of the bed, lurched forward, and threw up into the trash bin.
Damien let out a long, exhausted sigh and facepalmed.
"You've got to be kidding me."
He immediately called for the hotel's on-call doctor.
After a brief examination, the doctor concluded she needed stronger treatment and reached into his bag for a syringe.
Eva was half-asleep when she heard the faint clink of metal. Her eyes fluttered open, and froze on the sight of the gleaming needle.
And then… panic.
"No, no, no!" she shrieked, scrambling backward on the bed as though the doctor had just pulled out a dagger.
She looked utterly terrified. Her face paled, lips trembled, and her breathing turned shallow. Her fear wasn't just childish, it was primal.
Damien, standing by the bed in black pants and a fitted black shirt, watched the spectacle unfold, his hands deep in his pockets. His usual calm was replaced with wide-eyed disbelief.
The doctor, used to anxious patients, tried his best to calm her. "It's just a little sting, miss. I promise, you'll barely feel a thing,"
But before he could finish, Eva let out a terrified squeal, bolted from the bed, and launched herself into Damien's arms.
Literally.
She jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling him like a koala clinging for dear life.
Damien instinctively caught her to keep her from falling, stunned by the full-grown woman trembling in his arms.
Her voice cracked as she pleaded, "Damien, help me. Please. I don't want an injection."
He looked down at her, utterly lost. Her wide eyes shimmered with panic, her body stiff with dread.
"Eva, you're not a child," he said softly, trying to reason with her. "It's just a shot. A quick one. It'll be over before you even blink."
But she shook her head so fast and fiercely it was a miracle her brain didn't rattle out of her skull.
"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want it."
Damien looked over her head at the doctor, exhaling deeply, the corners of his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. "She's all yours, Doc… if you can pry her off me."
"Damian pleaseee!" She held him even tighter as her body wriggled desperately in his arms, making Damien feel in-between helplessness and irritation.
Damien turned to the doctor calmly, though his eyes betrayed his concern.
"Let me have the injection," he said.
The doctor handed it over, and Damien gently laid Eva back on the bed. But the moment her eyes landed on the syringe in his hand, she panicked again, clutching him tighter, burying her face in his chest like a terrified child. Her arms locked around his torso, trembling, her heartbeat pounding wildly against him.
Damien's jaw dropped slightly. He turned to the doctor again, his voice low and patient.
"Um... can she be given oral medication instead? She clearly wants nothing to do with this."
The doctor gave a small sigh. "The injection would be more effective," he replied. "But yes, we can switch to tablets as an alternative."
"Please, let's go with the drugs then," Damien said quickly, placing the syringe carefully back onto the tray.
The doctor nodded, adjusting his glasses. "It would be much better if you could bring her to the hospital for proper treatment," he added in Spanish.
Damien replied fluently, still holding Eva as if she might bolt again. "We're not from here. We're just in town for business and returning before the weekend. I only need her stable enough to travel. Once we get back, she'll receive the full treatment she needs."
Damien said his first lengthy words in ages, all thanks to Eva.
"Understood," the doctor said. "I'll prescribe some medication. Please make sure she takes it."
"She will," Damien promised with a nod.
Or so he thought.