Waking up, she was surprised to realize she had caught a cold despite all her efforts to prevent it yesterday. Maybe sitting under the rain hadn't been such a good idea after all. Still, she didn't have time to dwell on it; she had designs to complete.
Pushing herself out of bed, she was relieved to find her ankle feeling much better. She headed to the bathroom and sank into a long, warm bath.
The heat eased her stiff muscles, but by the time she stepped out, droplets still clung to her skin, and her sneezing had worsened.
Cleaning her nose, she walked to her closet, dressed quickly, and headed to the kitchen. A steaming mug of hot cocoa soon sat in her hands as she settled in the dining area, laptop and sketchpad spread before her. She took small sips between strokes of her pencil, determined to push through.
Back at the company, Desmond was flipping through paperwork when a thought flashed through his mind. Reaching for a certain file, he found Daisy's co-worker's contact the one who had followed her on the day of their first meeting. Without hesitation, he dialed her number.
After fabricating a quick excuse about needing to send Daisy some documents, the co-worker willingly gave him Daisy's home address. Once Desmond wrapped up a few meetings, he decided to head there.
At Daisy's apartment, tissues were already piling up in the trash, but she stubbornly kept working on her designs. Her head felt heavy, her breathing uneven, but she refused to stop. The sudden sound of the doorbell startled her. She wasn't expecting anyone.
Walking to the door, she peeked through the peephole. The visitor had their face lowered, making it hard to see. Her suspicion flared, but she unlocked the door cautiously. The moment she saw who it was, her stomach tightened annoyance flooding in instantly.
Standing there was the one face she would rather not see.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Scratch that how did you know where I live?"
"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Desmond replied with a smirk. As he finally looked up, he noticed the flushed cheeks and the bright red nose. Damn, she really did catch a cold, he thought.
Without waiting for an invitation, he brushed past her and placed a bag on the table.
She turned to find him scanning her workspace scattered designs on the table, some tossed into the trash alongside crumpled tissues, and several unfinished sketches waiting for completion.
"You are not my boss," she said sharply. "And why are you buying me stuff?"
"I saw you in the rain yeste" he paused, correcting himself. "I mean, I noticed the rain yesterday, so I brought you some medicine. I don't want you using a cold as an excuse to avoid finishing the designs."
Her jaw clenched. "Rest assured, a cold won't stop me from submitting them on time. And I don't need to fake a cold because, thanks to your stunt yesterday, I've actually caught one."
He barely blinked. "That's not my concern. Thankfully, I brought medicine, so take it, rest for a while, and finish the designs. Remember, tomorrow's the deadline."
Her irritation flared into full-blown anger. "I don't need your medicine. You can take it, and your jerk face, out of my house." She could feel yesterday's bottled-up frustration spilling over.
But mid-sentence, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. Her knees buckled, the room tilting.
"Daisy!"
Desmond lunged forward, catching her before she hit the floor. Panic flashed in his eyes. Her skin was burning hot under his touch. He carried her to the couch and laid her down gently.
He rushed to her kitchen, found a clean towel hanging on the door, and filled a bowl with cool water. Kneeling beside her, he pressed the damp cloth to her forehead, his gaze lingering on her pale face. For the first time since he arrived, there was no smirk only something unspoken in his expression.