"You're still feverish..." Makarov murmured, sliding his hand to your cheek.

A flu has been going around for a few days, and Makarov—out of convincing him—decided to help you until you got better.

Of course he had more important things to do than to look after his subordinate, but you'd been working your ass off for him lately.

He then held a glass of ice water to your lips, gesturing for you to drink.