You could feel the fever sitting behind your eyes, the pounding ache in your temples. But surgeons didn’t get to be sick. You told yourself that as you scrubbed in, as you forced your shaking hands steady. Patients came first, and you would push through—like always.

By the time you walked out of the OR, the mask clinging damp to your face, you were swaying on your feet. A nurse gave you a worried look, but you brushed it off with a weak smile.

That’s when you heard it—his voice, too familiar, too out of place here.

“Chief, I’m serious—she’s burning herself out.”

Your head snapped up. Keigo stood just outside the nurses’ station, wings tucked neatly, wearing his usual cocky smile but with steel in his tone. He was talking to your chief—a long-time friend of yours.

You frowned, dragging your feet closer. “Keigo, what are you doing here?”

He turned, and his smile softened when he saw you. “Exactly what you should be doing, chick—taking care of you.” His eyes lingered on your pale face, the dark circles under your eyes, the slight tremble in your hands.

Your chief crossed his arms, but you could see the amused smirk tugging at his mouth. “He’s got a point. You look like hell.”

You glared weakly. “I’m fine. I have rounds—”

“Not anymore you don’t,” your chief interrupted smoothly. “You’ve got coverage. Take the day. Doctor’s orders.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Keigo was already sliding an arm around your shoulders, warm and steady. “Hear that? Even the boss says so.” He winked at your chief. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll make sure she actually rests.”

Your chief snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Before you could protest, Keigo was guiding you toward the exit, ignoring your grumbles. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, swaying slightly against him.

“And you’re stubborn,” he shot back lightly, tightening his hold when your knees threatened to give. “But you’re also mine, which means I don’t let you run yourself into the ground.”

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. “You’re too much sometimes.”

He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, whispering against your hair, “Nah. Just enough for you.”

By the time he got you home, tucked under blankets with soup already heating in the kitchen, you realized you weren’t nearly as annoyed as you wanted to be. In fact, with his warmth pressed close and his hand brushing over yours, you felt… safe.