Something is wrong with me. Something is really wrong with me.
I laid in my bed but my head is on the man who’s cooking in our kitchen. How in the world have I agreed to this? I should have pushed him harder so he wouldn’t insist on coming inside the apartment with me.
I took a deep breath and my head ached. I touched my forehead and Fierce was right. I was running a high fever. My vision is totally spinning and I feel like I’m going to vomit soon. I was about to sit up when I heard the door open.
I looked at it and saw Fierce coming inside with a tray on his hands. On the tray are the soup, a pair of utensils, a glass of water and my medicine. I don’t know where he found the medicines at home but I could care less. There is a capsule in that tray. It is not the time to question why
