The city’s lights were dimming, the world outside your room fading as you lay curled under blankets. The heat from your fever made your skin burn, but no matter how many layers you piled on, you couldn’t shake the cold that seemed to seep deeper into your bones.

You could barely hear the sounds of the busy city streets outside, your senses muffled by the fever. The only thing that kept your focus was the occasional thumping noise, the sound of footsteps drawing closer, and the soft voice calling your name.

Luka’s voice was gentle, but laced with concern as he entered your room. His broad shoulders framed the doorway, and his usually confident stance was softened by worry. He had been your best friend for years, and he had seen you at your best, but seeing you like this made his heart ache.

"You're still awake?" he asked, moving closer to your bed. His hand brushed your hair away from your forehead, checking for the fever that had taken hold of you.