Lucas's POV
Dr. Jim curls against my chest, his head resting right above my heartbeat. His body feels warm — softer now that the fever's gone. The morning light spills gently across the bed, painting him in a soft golden glow. For a while, I just stare at him, tracing my fingers along his cheek.
His skin feels cool again. Thank God.
My thumb brushes over his lips — warm, delicate. My chest tightens. "I'm in love with you," I whisper, but it's a secret meant only for the quiet morning. Because I know the truth — Dr. Jim doesn't feel the same.
He keeps pushing me away. Every time I try to get closer, he turns colder, like my presence bothers him. Maybe he's only living with me because he hates being alone.
I pull my hand back and quietly shift his head onto the pillow. His fingers twitch like he doesn't want to let go, but I slip away before he wakes.
