“I thought you were over exaggerating when you said you were sick.” Liam tilted his head, watching you as you laid there in your bed. He had a vase of flowers in hands.

“I don’t want to have to take care of you. But— I will anyway.” Liam laughs a little to himself as he takes a few steps forward to your bed setting down the vase on your bedside table. He puts the back of his hand to your head. “Do you have a fever?” He questions. Why— is he concerned about you?