Chapter 13: Kairus' Concern

At Avyanna’s apartment, the quiet was almost unsettling.

Kairus stood frozen in the middle of her small living space, unsure of what to do next. The faint sound of the ticking clock was the only thing that kept him grounded as he glanced over his shoulder at the bed, where Avyanna lay unconscious but breathing steadily. She looked so different like this—so vulnerable, stripped of the guarded demeanor she always carried like armor.

Ruth had gone out a few minutes earlier to buy medicine, telling him to keep an eye on Avyanna until she returned. He had agreed with a nod, but now that he was alone in her space, a strange wave of unease washed over him. He wasn’t used to this kind of stillness. Especially not when someone he cared about was lying pale and unresponsive just a few feet away.

With a soft exhale, Kairus slowly sat down on the floor beside her bed, leaning back against the wall. His eyes scanned the room—small, modest, and filled with little things that made it unmistakably hers. A potted plant on the windowsill, its leaves just slightly wilted. Books stacked unevenly on a nearby shelf. A blanket that looked like it had seen better days but was clearly loved.

There was something about the room that struck him—it wasn’t extravagant or overly decorated, but it felt… real. Lived in. Warm. It reflected Avyanna in ways he hadn’t expected. Despite the emotional walls she put up around herself, her room gave away how thoughtful, quiet, and earnest she truly was.

His gaze eventually landed on her study table, where a few papers were scattered across its surface. Curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up, stepping lightly toward the desk. His eyes skimmed the pages—notes written in beautifully neat handwriting. The letters curved with practiced care, every word deliberate. It was the kind of handwriting that made you pause and look twice.

“Such nice handwriting,” he murmured to himself with a faint smile. But as his eyes moved across the desk, something else caught his attention.

He stopped mid-sentence.

His gaze lifted to the wall above the desk—and there it was. A photo of Avyanna. She was wearing a black dress, elegant and simple, standing in front of what looked like a dimly lit backdrop, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. She wasn’t smiling, but her eyes carried a quiet intensity that struck him to his core. The way she held herself—poised, graceful, a little distant—reminded him just how much of herself she kept hidden from the world.

Kairus found himself staring, unable to look away. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful—though she was. It was something deeper. Something in the way her room, her notes, and now this photograph all pointed to a person he was only beginning to understand. A person who felt more than she let on. Who hid her pain behind indifference. Who tried so hard to seem strong, even when she was clearly falling apart.

His brows furrowed slightly as his concern deepened.

How long had she been carrying all of this alone?

A quiet groan from the bed snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned immediately, stepping back to her side. She shifted slightly in her sleep, her forehead still damp with sweat.

Kairus knelt beside her again, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “What are you doing to yourself, Avyanna…” he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible. There was no one here to see the softness in his eyes, the quiet worry that he never let show.

All he could do now was wait—and hope that when she woke up, she’d let him stay a little longer.

“Mom, Dad…” Avyanna whispered under her breath, her voice faint and strained. Kairus froze, his heart skipping a beat at the mention of her parents' names. He had heard her talk about them before, in passing, but he never fully understood the depth of the connection, or the pain that lingered beneath it.

He watched her closely, hoping she would quiet again, but instead, her brow furrowed deeper. Her hand rose to her forehead, her fingers pressing against her skin as if trying to ease an ache only she could feel. Kairus’s worry deepened as he noted the subtle tremor in her body. Her temperature had definitely risen—it was more than just the fatigue, more than just the effects of the emotional turmoil she had been under.

Without thinking, Kairus sprang into action. His mind raced for a solution. He quickly rose to his feet and rushed to the small bathroom, where he found a basin and filled it with cool water. He moved quickly, trying to remain calm, but his hands were shaky as he dipped a washcloth into the water and wrung it out. His thoughts were swirling, the fear of what she was going through pressing in on him.

Returning to her bedside, he gently placed the damp cloth on her forehead. He couldn’t help but notice how fragile she looked, how small in that moment. He had always seen her as strong, maybe even invincible in her own way, but now, seeing her like this—vulnerable, burning with fever—he realized how much he still didn’t know about her.

“Avyanna,” he whispered softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear as he adjusted the cloth. “You’re going to be okay. Just hold on.”

Her face remained pale, her breathing shallow, but she didn’t stir. Kairus bit his lip, trying to push down the rising sense of helplessness that crept into his chest. He could feel her temperature spiking even through the cloth, the heat radiating off her like an unrelenting force.

His hand hovered near her, uncertain of whether to keep holding the cloth in place or to reach out and offer comfort in another way. He wasn’t used to being this close to someone so raw, so open in their pain. But he couldn’t deny it—the need to protect her, to shield her from whatever darkness she carried, was undeniable.

As the seconds ticked by, he allowed himself a moment to just sit there, watching her with the weight of his concern hanging in the air. There was something in her silence that spoke volumes. It was as if she were holding onto something from her past, something deep that she hadn’t yet let go of—and it haunted her, even now.

“Please… get better,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with a quiet urgency. He didn’t know what she was struggling with, but he felt a desperate need to be there for her. Whatever it took.

Outside, the sound of Ruth’s voice could be heard returning, but Kairus didn’t look away from Avyanna’s peaceful yet troubled face. He knew that once Ruth returned with the medicine, things would change. But for now, it was just him and her—and for the first time in a long while, Kairus found himself wishing he could do more than just watch and wait.