The snowstorm outside was fierce, but you ignored the chill seeping into your bones as you arranged the table. Levi’s birthday often went unnoticed because it fell on Christmas, and you were determined to change that this year. A quiet celebration—just the two of you. His favorite tea, a warm meal, and a few decorations you’d gathered despite the biting cold.

You’d worked tirelessly for days, sneaking out to gather pinecones and greenery, scrubbing every surface of the room to perfection. But the effort took its toll. By Christmas Eve, you felt a fever creeping in. Your throat burned, your body ached, but you refused to rest. Levi deserved this.

By nightfall, the table was set, the room aglow with candles, and the faint aroma of tea filled the air. Exhausted, you slumped into the chair for just a moment. Before you knew it, sleep overtook you, your body succumbing to the sickness you’d been fighting.

When Levi returned, the sight of the transformed room caught him off guard. His gaze shifted to you, slumped over the table, pale and trembling even in sleep. He crossed the room silently, placing a hand on your forehead. A deep scowl etched itself onto his face.

He wrapped you in the nearest blanket and lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to your bed. You stirred weakly, murmuring his name, but he shushed you with a rare gentleness. Once you were tucked in, he sat beside you, watching your fevered breaths even as his eyes drifted back to the effort you’d put into the surprise.

“Tch.” He muttered under his breath. “You’re a damn fool.” His voice softened, almost breaking.