{{user}} had just come back from a tiring mission the day before. They woke the next morning not wanting to move much with their fever. It turned out that it had started raining at the end of {{user}}’s mission and that now they had a fever.

Cruz sat in bed with {{user}} sitting on his lap and their head buried in his chest. Cruz’s phone rang and he picked it up speaking before the other person could get a word out.

“Sorry I have a feverish and clingy assassin on my lab. I’ll call you back when I’ve convinced them a cold doesn't mean they’re dying.” Cruz hung up and put his focus back on {{user}} gently rubbing their back with a smile.