Page 8 of Flawed

I answer, "It's on the outside of the building. Now, go inside."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Fighting me isn't going to get you anywhere," I state.

She closes her eyes and leans against the doorframe. "I'm fine. You can go now. Thanks for the ride."

"You aren't fine," I reply, then pick her up.

"What are you doing? Put me down!" she shrieks.

I carry her through the apartment, find the bathroom, then set her on the counter.

"Luca—"

"I'm not leaving you like this. Now, you can get undressed on your own, or I'll remove your clothes for you," I warn.

She scrunches her face, and tears fall from her green eyes.

I sigh and tug her into my chest. "Shh. Why are you crying?"

She manages to get out, "You shouldn't be here."

"Why?" I question.

"You just shouldn't," she mutters.

"Want to tell me why you can't stand me?" I inquire.

She tilts her head up, locking her eyes with mine. She quietly answers, "I never said that."

I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Then why have you pushed me away every time I've seen you since the night we were together?"

She scrunches her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut again. "I-I'm sorry."

I kiss her on the lips. It's brief, and I want more, but she's sick, and I don't want her pushing me away again. I step back, turn on the shower, and then state, "I'm going to make you some food."

"Not neces—"

I put my fingers over her lips. "I won't take no for an answer. And you feel like you have a fever. Don't stay too long in the hot shower." I kiss her again and leave the bathroom before she can object another time.

I go into her kitchen and open the pantry. Everything's alphabetically organized and grouped into cans, bottles, or boxes.

I pull out some chicken noodle soup and crackers then glance around the apartment. Everything is spotless. It only makes me fall harder for her. I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive about things being in their places.

It doesn't take long for the soup to heat up. I put everything on a tray and take it to her bedroom.

She steps into the room with a towel around her body and another around her hair. She glances at the tray and then at me. "Thanks. You can go now." She sneezes four times.

I pull the covers back. "Slide in."

She looks down at the towel. "I need clothes."

"Do you?" I ask, my lips twitching.

She tightens the towel around her body and then shifts on her feet, biting her lip.

"I'll step out so you can change," I concede, then do it. After a few minutes, I stick my head through the doorway. "Are you decent?"

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