Was she teasing him on purpose?

By the time Theodore finished his shower,

his condition hadn't improved one bit.

His vision was slightly blurred, and an unbearable heat simmered beneath his skin, intensifying with each passing second.

He kept swallowing-dry, tight gulps-

and couldn't stop thinking about Sigourney.

Her eyes. Her smile. That unwavering confidence.

And above all, the soft tenderness in her gestures today, the warmth in her expressions.

Of course, Theodore knew something was wrong.

Very wrong.

So he bit his lower lip, forcing himself to stay composed as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Are you really okay, Theodore? Should I call your private doctor?"

Sigourney looked up at him, clearly confused.

From her point of view, something was definitely off.

Theodore's face was flushed an alarming shade of red, his lips pressed together tightly, his entire posture stiff and tense.

Without waiting for a response, Sigourney stepped closer and leaned in, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead.

Warm-far too warm.

"You have a fever, Theodore. Your forehead is burning up."

"I'm going to call the doctor. Just give me a second, it won't take long."

The heat radiating from his skin sent a wave of panic through her voice.

She turned abruptly, ready to rush off-

And that's when Theodore finally reacted to everything she'd done.

Reaching out, he caught her wrist.

"I'm fine. There's no need for a doctor."

"Just... let me rest for a bit. That's all I need."

Theodore, of course, understood his own condition better than anyone.

He knew exactly what this reaction meant.

And more than that-he had a very good idea of who was behind this little scheme.

Still, he didn't want to stir up unnecessary trouble.

He reassured Sigourney, speaking with quiet certainty.

But Sigourney, clearly unconvinced, kept reaching out-first pressing her hand to his forehead again, then to the side of his neck, growing more anxious with each second as the heat radiated from his skin.

The concern in her touch, only made Theodore's mouth feel drier, his discomfort sharper.

He pressed his lips together tightly, trying to restrain the sudden urge to pull her into his arms, to hold her close.

He told himself to stay calm, to ask her-gently-not to make a fuss.

He was fine.

Or at least, he needed to be.

But Sigourney wouldn't stop.

Her hand slid along the curve of his neck now, soft and careful-

and it was the last straw.

So close, so tender-was she teasing him on purpose?

Unable to hold back any longer, Theodore gave in to the rising heat and instinctively leaned in, wrapping Sigourney tightly in his arms.

The space between them vanished until they could feel each other's heartbeats pounding through thin layers of clothing.

His body was hot-almost burning-and pressed so close it took Sigourney completely off guard.

She stood frozen, too startled to react.

She had never seen Theodore like this.

He rested his forehead against her cheek, nuzzling lightly, almost like he was seeking comfort.

One arm slipped behind her, hand brushing gently over the back of her neck-

and with the faintest tug,

he drew her even closer.

The familiar scent of mint lingered in the air, blending subtly with Theodore's masculine breath.

Sigourney stammered.

"Theodore, I..."

She placed her hand against Theodore's chest, calling out to him in a dazed voice. Startled by the unexpected intimacy, she trembled slightly and instinctively leaned away, turning her face to the side to avoid his touch.

Her voice, soft and almost pleading, stirred something deeper within Theodore.

He stared intently at Sigourney's plump, delicate lips-his Adam's apple bobbing as desire surged through him.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't hold back."

Theodore stepped back, trying to put some distance between them. He steadied his breathing, doing his best to restrain himself, forcing his thoughts away from Sigourney's gentle expression to regain his composure.

Then, to Sigourney's surprise, Theodore hastily turned to the wardrobe, grabbed some clothes, and hurried into the bathroom.

"I-I'll go take another shower. You should sleep first, don't wait for me."

Theodore almost fled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a firm click.

He turned on the cold water, hoping to cool his thoughts and bring himself back to reason.

"..."

Sigourney stared at the door through which Theodore had disappeared, unsure of how to feel.

Of course, she wasn't yet close enough to Theodore to be fully comfortable with such physical intimacy, yet there was a flicker of disappointment at how abruptly he had withdrawn.

More than that, she was concerned about his current state.

After all, Theodore had always been the cold, calm, and upright type.

This was the first time he had shown such intense emotion-losing control like that.

"..."

Sigourney shook her head, trying to dispel the confusion swirling in her mind. She forced herself to calm down and climbed into bed.

Still, her heart couldn't settle as if nothing had happened.

Sleep didn't come easily, not in this room-Theodore's room-where his scent still lingered faintly around her, stirring something inside.

After a long while, Theodore still hadn't returned.

Only the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, making Sigourney increasingly anxious.

Given Theodore's condition... and how long he'd been showering-

Could he have fainted in there?

The thought tightened her chest.

She waited a little longer, then got up, intending to knock on the bathroom door and check on him.

But just then-

The door swung open.

Theodore stepped out, hair dripping wet, his expression weary-tinged with fatigue.

The moment he glanced at Sigourney, he immediately understood what she had been about to do.

He sighed and offered her a few reassuring words.

"I'm okay."

"About earlier... I'm sorry for being so abrupt. I hope it didn't make you too uncomfortable or upset."

His face had regained some of its composure, the calm demeanor he usually carried settling back into place.

Sigourney simply nodded without saying a word.

An unspoken understanding passed between them, and both chose to keep the silence.

Theodore dried his hair, then climbed into bed.

Sigourney, obediently, turned to one side, giving him space to lie down beside her.

For a moment, it seemed like everything had returned to normal-

But it hadn't.

That night, neither of them slept.

Sigourney, unfamiliar with this space, uneasy about sharing a bed with Theodore for the first time, and still rattled by his earlier actions, lay with her back to him, tossing and turning, unable to close her eyes.

Theodore fared no better.

Under the lingering effects of the medication, he struggled to suppress his desire to be close to Sigourney, forcing himself to remain calm.

And so, that night passed-

With both of them wide awake.

...

The next morning—

just as expected—

both of them woke up with dark circles under their eyes, looking like a pair of pandas,

utterly exhausted and far from alert.

While coming down the stairs, Sigourney nearly slipped and fell—

fortunately, Theodore caught her just in time.

As they made their way downstairs,

they found Tom leisurely sipping tea in the living room, his posture relaxed, exuding calm.

“Awake already?” he asked casually.

“How was your sleep last night?”

“You both look terribly worn out.”

Tom tilted his head, his tone light and nonchalant.

Sigourney and Theodore exchanged a brief glance, then, with silent agreement, each mumbled an excuse before quickly making their way into the dining room to eat breakfast.

What they didn’t know was—

the moment they turned their backs,

Tom’s eyes narrowed into a gleam of amusement,

a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.