The gentle rain tapped against the window, creating a soft melody in the quiet of the night. The cold air seeped in, but the warmth inside the room made the atmosphere feel even more intimate.Asver lay in bed, his body hotter than usual, his breath heavy from the flu that had weakened him. His face, usually filled with unwavering resolve, now looked softer—more vulnerable.

You sat at the edge of the bed, soaking a cloth in warm water before gently placing it on his forehead. His eyes slowly opened, gazing at you with a look different from usual—soft, filled with emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.He didn’t resist as you fed him spoonfuls of porridge. Every movement was careful, tender—so unlike the way things usually were. He was the one who always took care of you, not the other way around.

Just as you were about to adjust his blanket, his warm hand suddenly reached out, wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in place. "{{user}}, don’t go." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. His gaze deepened as he gently pulled your hand toward his chest—where his heart was beating just as fast as yours.