Roommate Badboy - Wicked Academy

36

The suffocating scent of the drug lingered, making her stomach churn. But Stella clung to him regardless, refusing to leave his side, her concern drowning out the discomfort Alex had left behind.

Jason's body radiated heat as she lay beside him, his fever burning through him with an intensity that made her chest tighten. She couldn't pull away. Unease clawed at her despite the exhaustion dragging at her limbs. His suffering, settled heavily on her, and the only reassurance she had was the fragile uneven rhythm of his ragged breaths.

His body twisted restlessly beneath the blankets, his brow furrowed with the effort of sleep, his lips parted as if trying to gasp for breath. His skin was slick with sweat, his temperature rising higher by the minute.

"Jason," she whispered, her voice thick with worry. She reached up to touch his forehead, flinching at the feverish heat beneath her fingertips.

Slipping out from the warmth of the covers, her hands quivered as she soaked the cloth, wringing it gently before pressing it to his fevered skin. She glided it over his forehead, his body shaking ever so slightly beneath her touch.

She continued pressing the cool cloth against his burning body, delicately tracing it over his face, neck, and shoulders, hoping to ease the fever that gripped him. Each time she adjusted the cloth, his body trembled with discomfort, and her hand lingered longer than needed, yet the heat never seemed to subside.

As the hours dragged on, she eventually lay back beside him, though she didn't dare close her eyes. Gently, she wiped the sweat from his brow, brushing his hair back from his face with a tenderness that felt almost foreign to her. Her heart pounded in her chest with each feverish breath he took.

But then, just when she thought she might break from the weight of it all, Jason stirred. His body jerked beneath the sheets, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Stella's heart skipped in her chest, her hands trembling as she reached out to him, calling his name.

His eyes fluttered open, though they were unfocused, hazy with delirium. He reached out weakly, his hand brushing over hers before gripping her wrist with surprising strength. His fingers felt cold and clammy, and she could barely breathe as she looked up at him, his expression faintly strained.

She gripped his hand tighter, desperately trying to offer him any comfort she could. Yet, his body continued to tremble, his skin burning with fever.

A low, painful groan slipped from Jason's lips, the sound rough and fragile, like it had come from the depths of his torment.

His eyes opened briefly, clouded and unfocused, and with a hoarse breath, he murmured, "Stay with me." His grip on her hand was faint, yet filled with desperation.

She squeezed his hand back, a gentle reassurance. "I'm here," she replied softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his face, her fingers trembling as they caressed his heated skin. "I'm not going anywhere."

As the night wore on, the fever would not relent, and neither would Stella. She stayed by his side, wiping his sweat-drenched skin, whispering reassurances even though she wasn't sure if he could hear her. His fever burned through the night, and she couldn't afford to sleep; not while he was in such a fragile state.

At some point, she must have drifted off, her head resting against his chest, the faint sound of his erratic heartbeat the only lullaby she could find in the chaos.

In the quietest hours of the morning, as the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, a soft knock echoed through the room. Stella stirred, still heavy with sleep. She shuffled toward the door, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated, and opened it without thinking.