"No way, I'm perfectly fine here," Camila said firmly, glancing at Connor through the vanity mirror.

Connor looked at her, trying to convince her. "It's freezing here, and the space is cramped. You can't be comfortable. Come back to the apartment; it's warm and spacious."

Camila turned to face him. "Sure, it's small, but I've got everything I need, and I'm comfortable. Winter's short, just a few cold days."

Connor sighed, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "Alright, I won't push you."

"I made some oatmeal," Camila said with a smile, gently holding his hand. "We'll have it, and then you can take some fever medicine."

Connor nodded and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

back and sat at the dining table. Camila handed him a bowl of oatmeal. "Careful,

delicious. "Did it turn out well this time?"

shook his head, finishing most of the bowl. "It's fantastic,

an apologetic smile said, "To make up for

"You're still sick.

her hand. "Stay with

was hard to ensure nothing spontaneous would happen. "You haven't fully recovered yet; you need rest," she coaxed softly, like talking to a

Connor nodded softly. "Mhm."

checking his temperature, which was only slightly elevated, Camila sat by the bed, gently tucked him

was indeed tired.

Camila gently withdrew her hand from

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