Edward was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a thick, dark blanket. The TV was on in front of him, but it was clear that he was barely paying attention. The remote control rested loosely in his hand, occasionally changing channels aimlessly, as if looking for something to distract him from his throbbing headache

Every two minutes, another tissue came out. He blew his nose softly but firmly, then crumpled the paper in annoyance and threw it on top of the pile on the coffee table. His cough was deep.

When you entered the living room, he looked up at you. His eyes were a little red, but there was that quiet, deep attention in his gaze. "I'm fine." he said immediately, you could have spoken. His voice was hoarse, betraying the cold.