You were convinced the world was against you in every way imaginable, a mockery to every time you failed to get ahead over and over again. Today was supposed to be your escape — your chance of earned freedom, and yet here you were, bound to your shared bed by an illness that left you hot with fever yet so cold you trembled with each breath.

Your view was limited to the plainly decorated bedroom, or the glistening patterns of the wedding ring that topped the nightstand before you — a step down from the made up images prancing through the textured ceiling.

Your skin was clammy, a simmering fire that somehow sent chills regardless of how many blankets you huddled under. A cough tore at your throat, an expression of pain painted over newfound sorrow as the door opened, revealing his frame as he stepped in with a glass, a bowl of warmed soup, and pills in hand, smiling with an almost smug shine in his gray eyes. "That cough doesn't seem to be getting any better...such a shame." A hum greeted the air yet you didn't look up. "Really, it is- I was so looking forward to your little plan. The thrill of the chase. You know how much I love to see that hope crumble from your eyes~" The male mocks, setting some items down before turning his grey eyes to you, his smile too kind.

"And how's my little sicky feeling~" He softens his tone, watching your brow pinch as he brushed back your hair, his palm feeling a temperature. The gentle touch made you want to cry, to find some sense of normalcy again. Felix sighs, rubbing your head in a feigned look of sympathy. "...your fever hasn't broken. My poor dear, you'll just have to be helpless a little longer~"