In her half-asleep state, she thought she heard a deep, ragged breath close to her ear.

Awakening, she realized the sound wasn’t a figment of her dream, but came from Tyrone, lying next to her.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Sabrina turned to him, questioning, “Tyrone, aren’t you sleeping?”

“No,” Tyrone said in a raspy voice.

“Why are you blushing?” Sabrina asked as her hand moved to feel his forehead. It felt feverish.

“Tyrone, do you have a fever? Are you alright?” Sabrina sat upright instantly.

Her hands were cold.

instinctively grabbed her hands, pressing them to his face. His

off with the soup I had

soup had Likely been a tonic. Possibly

“So…

rose, abruptly pushing her underneath

beads of sweat visible on his

was

a moment’s pause, Sabrina’s arms wound around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at his nape

look, Tyrone drew a deep breath,

he left the bed and

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