Absolution | +18

Chapter 45

Val

I woke up to the sound of coughing—a deep, rumbling sound that rattled through the walls. It took me a second to realize it was Silas. His arm was draped across my waist, and I could feel the warmth of his body, hotter than usual. We were both wrapped in the thick duvet, a cocoon of warmth in contrast to the chill that had settled in the room over the last few days.

Neither of us had moved much these past few days. That damn rain.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes, my throat scratchy and raw, my head pounding like a dull drumbeat. As if on cue, a tickle at the back of my throat sent me into a coughing fit of my own, which only made my head pound harder. Great. This was the price we paid for dancing in the rain like a couple of idiots.

"You awake?" Silas's voice, raspy and hoarse, came from beside me. His eyes were half-open, dark circles smudged under them. He looked as miserable as I felt, and for some reason, that made me smile.

"Barely," I croaked, trying to clear my throat. "I think we might be dying."

He let out a half-hearted chuckle, the sound thick with congestion. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

I turned my head to look at him, still wrapped up in the blankets, his usually sharp features softened by the fever. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and his normally intense gaze was foggy. Even sick as a dog, he still looked good. Unfair.

"We should've known better," I murmured, sniffling and grabbing a tissue from the bedside table. "Dancing in the rain like that..."

"You started it," he mumbled, giving me a sideways glance.

"Yeah, but you didn't stop me." I smiled weakly, feeling a little warmth spread through me despite the congestion. "I guess we're paying for it now."

Silas shifted beside me, pulling the covers tighter around us both. He was always so controlled, so put-together, and seeing him like this—vulnerable, sick, and curled up next to me—felt strange. Comforting, but strange.

The rain had been worth it, though. The way he had held me, the way we'd spun together under the night sky, the cold water drenching us but neither of us caring... It was one of those rare moments where everything else fell away, and it was just us, caught in a bubble of something bigger than either of us could name.

Now, here we were, paying the price, sick in bed for days. But I couldn't regret it.

I reached out, brushing a hand through his messy hair. "You need anything? Water, medicine?"

Silas shook his head, eyes slipping closed again. "Just stay here." His voice was soft, quieter than I'd ever heard it. For a moment, I thought he'd fallen back asleep, but then his hand found mine under the blanket, giving it a gentle squeeze.

We lay like that for what felt like hours, the only sounds the occasional cough or sniffle, the slow rhythm of our breathing syncing up. Despite how awful we both felt, there was something comforting in the silence. We didn't need to say much. Being here, wrapped up together in this shared misery, was enough.

I dozed off at some point, drifting in and out of sleep, only to wake up again when I felt Silas stirring beside me. He was trying to sit up, his brow furrowed in frustration as he groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice a whisper, still half-asleep.

"I'm gonna grab something for the headache," he muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, but he barely made it halfway before sinking back down with a grunt. "Never mind. Not happening."