The Farmhand's Crush

Chapter: 18

Nicolas's POV

The sun peeked through the curtains as I stirred awake, the warmth of the morning light pulling me from sleep. 

My first thought was of Faye and the festival yesterday—the joy, the laughter, the sense of community we'd created together. But then, I remembered how she had seemed so exhausted by the end of the day, her smile overshadowed by fatigue.

I glanced at my phone and noticed a text from her: Hey, I'm feeling a bit under the weather this morning. Maybe we should call off today.

Worry twisted in my gut. I quickly threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed my keys, and headed out. I couldn't help but think how I'd rather be with her, taking care of her, than anywhere else.

When I arrived at her cottage, the door creaked open slightly, and I knocked gently. "Faye?" I called softly.

"Hey, come in," she replied weakly from inside.

I stepped inside and found her wrapped in a blanket on the couch, looking pale but still beautiful. "Hey there love" I said, concern washing over me. "How are you feeling?"

"Not great," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I pushed myself too hard yesterday."

I nodded, knowing how much she had poured into the festival. "You did an amazing job, but you need to rest now. Let me take care of you."

A small smile flickered across her face, but I could see the weariness in her eyes. "You don't have to. I'll be fine."

"Too late. I already decided," I replied, heading to the kitchen. "You need breakfast or aleast something to eat itll help you feel better I promise."

I opened her fridge and surveyed the contents, thankful to find some eggs, bread, and fruit. As I started cooking, I could hear her shuffling around on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I called out, trying to keep my voice light.

"Just tired. I should have taken a break instead of pushing through," she said, a hint of frustration in her tone.

"Rest is important. You can't pour from an empty cup," I said, focusing on the sizzle of the eggs in the pan. I flipped them over, making sure they were cooked perfectly before toasting the bread.

When breakfast was ready, I plated it and carried it over to her. "Ta-da! A gourmet breakfast for the sick and tired," I said, presenting the plate with a flourish.

Mia chuckled lightly, the sound sweet and soft. "You're too nice, Nic."

"Just trying to impress you, as always" I replied, settling on the couch beside her. "Eat up. You need your strength."

She picked at the food, but I could see she was trying her best. "It looks amazing, thank you."

As she took small bites, I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me. I wanted to be there for her, to help her through this. At a point I helped her cut it all up into smaller pieces so it would be easier for her to eat.

 Once she finished, I cleared the dishes and decided to make some tea to soothe her throat.

After a while, I returned to find her curled up under the blanket, looking slightly more awake. "How's it going?" I asked, handing her a steaming cup.

"Better, thanks to you," she said, her eyes meeting mine, and I felt my heart swell.

"Good. Now, let's talk lunch plans. I'm thinking homemade soup," I suggested.