Early morning came softly.
Eliot woke with a dull throb behind his eyes, the kind that made the room feel slightly tilted.
He blinked a few times, trying to focus.
Sunlight spilled in through the curtains.
Across the room, Lunara was already awake, standing near the window, brushing her hair. I
t kept slipping free of her fingers, catching the light as it fell down her back.
She looked calm.
Alert.
Like mornings didn't surprise her at all.
"My head hurts," Eliot whispered.
Lunara glanced over immediately.
"Rest," she said, voice even.
She moved toward him.
Her white dress caught the morning light, soft and bright, and for a second Eliot thought she was just going to check his temperature with her hand.
She didn't.
Instead, she leaned in and gently placed her forehead against his.
Eliot froze.
His breath hitched. His cheeks went warm—very warm.
"D–don't—" he started.
"Don't move," Lunara said quietly, eyes already closed.
Eliot went completely still, staring at the edge of the bed, heart racing for reasons he didn't understand.
He could feel her steady breathing, the cool contrast against his skin.
After a moment, she pulled back.
"You have a fever," she said matter-of-factly. "Not high, but enough."
"Oh," Eliot managed.
"It's the weekend," Lunara continued. "No lessons. You're not going out. You rest."
She turned toward his wardrobe.
"I'll tell Maris," she added softly.
Eliot watched her for a second, then blurted, "Why did you do that?"
She paused. "Do what?"
"The… forehead thing."
Lunara looked genuinely confused for a beat.
Then—"Oh."
She turned back, explaining calmly, like it was obvious. "Hands carry scent. Temperature shifts. Forehead contact is more accurate. Bone is thinner. Heat reads cleaner."
She tilted her head. "It's how we check."
"Oh," Eliot said again, nodding quickly, cheeks still pink.
That… actually made sense.
"Wait here," Lunara said, already heading for the door. "I'll get you soup. And medicine."
She slipped out quietly, ears twitching under the morning light, tail moving in a slow, lazy rhythm.
Eliot lay back down, head still aching—
—but somehow feeling safer than before.
Eliot shifted against the pillows and reached for his phone, blinking through the ache behind his eyes.
A message notification.
Theo.
He squinted, opened it, then typed back slowly.
I don't have time. I'm sick. Can you come?
The reply came almost immediately.
Why, surely. We can also work on that fake presentation.
Eliot smiled faintly.
Thanks.
A second later, a thumbs-up emoji popped onto the screen.
No biggie.
That did it—Eliot let out a small giggle, then immediately winced and pressed his fingers to his temples.
Bad idea.
The door opened.
Elara walked in first, carrying a bowl of soup like it was a sacred object. Lunara followed with a glass of water and medicine, ears twitching slightly, eyes sharp.
"Okay," Elara said, already in older-sibling mode. "Sit up."
Eliot shook his head weakly. "I'm not hungry."
Elara stared at him. "Don't start."
Lunara watched him for a moment, then said calmly, "Your nose is red."
Eliot blinked. "It is?"
She nodded. "And your hair is messy."
"That's just normal," he muttered.
Elara sighed. "Mom's not here. Don't make this hard for me."
She held the spoon out.
Eliot turned his face away like it personally offended him.
"No."
Lunara tilted her head, thinking. Then—without warning—she gently pinched his nose.
Eliot yelped. "Hey!"
"Mouth open," Lunara said.
Elara didn't miss the chance—she slid the spoon in. "There."
Eliot sputtered, then froze.
"…It's good," he admitted reluctantly.
"Obviously," Lunara said.
Medicine came next.
Eliot tried to protest again, but Elara raised a brow. "Or I call Mom."
He swallowed it. Instantly regretted it.
His face scrunched up, nose turning even redder.
Elara laughed. "Wow. You look tragic."
Lunara handed him the water. "Drink."
He did.
A minute later, Eliot slumped back against the pillows, hair completely wrecked, cheeks flushed, eyes tired—but soup gone, medicine taken.
Elara set the bowl aside. "See? Not so hard."
Lunara nodded once, satisfied.
Eliot sighed. "…Thank you."
They stayed anyway.
--
By the time the morning deepened, Eliot's fever had climbed.
A cool towel lay across his forehead, the thermometer tucked between his lips. His nose was painfully red now, hair sticking up in soft, useless directions.
His thoughts drifted, slow and hazy.
Was it because I didn't bathe last night?Or because I slept without a shirt?Or am I just unlucky?
The door burst open.
"I am here," Theo announced.
He stood there slightly out of breath, glasses crooked, brow hair a mess, dressed in a simple shirt, jacket, and trousers. In his hand— a bag.
"And I brought ice cream."
Elara appeared instantly and snatched it away. "Absolutely not. He's sick."
Theo blinked. "I walked all the way—"
Behind him, Rex shoved past, then froze the second he saw Eliot.
"…Dude," Rex said flatly. "You look awful."
Eliot rolled his eyes weakly. "Wow. Comforting."
Theo hurried to the bed anyway. "Your temperature's high?"
"Obviously," Elara said.
Eliot swallowed. "Where's Leon?"
Rex hesitated. "He couldn't come. Had to deal with some… shit."
"Language," Theo added immediately.
Rex smirked and dropped onto the edge of the bed. "You know Leon. No censoring."
Elara sighed. "Since you're all here, I'll bring snacks."
Theo brightened and hopped onto the bed, tossing his jacket aside. "Movie time."
Lunara, standing quietly near the window, lifted her head.
Her ears twitched."What movie?"
Rex grinned. "The Cure. Heard about it. Never watched it."
Elara spun around. "No."
Rex frowned. "Why?"
"It's too heavy," Elara said firmly. "Not good for him right now."
Theo tilted his head. "Then what about Close?"
Elara's eyes widened. "Absolutely not."
Rex groaned. "What is your problem with movies?"
Theo glanced between them. "Isn't that the one about two boys and—"
"Stop," Elara cut in. "It's emotional. He's sick. We're not doing that."
Eliot shifted under the blanket, voice weak but certain."…I don't mind."
Everyone turned to him.
Lunara smiled softly. "If he wants it, we watch it."
"Eliot," Elara warned, exhausted.
Eliot gave a tiny nod. "I'll probably fall asleep anyway."
Theo sighed. "Fine. But if he cries, I'm blaming all of you."
Rex smirked. "Worth it."
The movie started.
Eliot leaned back, feverish, surrounded by noise and bickering and warmth.Not a good movie choice.
But the company was perfect.