Falling for the Goddess

What Will You Do if You Get This Flustered?

The rain continued to pour outside, its rhythmic pattern blending with the occasional wind whistle. Inside the house, Sara stirred restlessly under the covers, her cheeks flushed with fever. The morning's chill and rain finally took their toll, leaving her weak and feverish.

Adrian, seated at her bedside, watched over her with a mixture of guilt and concern. The family doctor had come and gone, leaving a prescription and administering an IV drip to bring her temperature down.

"I'm sorry," Adrian murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Sara's pale lips curved into a faint smile. Her voice, hoarse and muffled, carried a hint of warmth. "It's just a cold, nothing serious. I'll be fine in no time."

Even in her vulnerable state, she noticed the tension in his posture. Reaching out her free hand, she tugged at his shirt sleeve. "You got caught in the rain too. Take some medicine to ensure you don't also catch a cold, okay?"

He gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, gently tucking her hand back under the blanket and pulling it snugly around her. "Close your eyes and rest," he urged.

She nodded, her eyelids already drooping as exhaustion took over. Within moments, she drifted off to sleep, her breathing evening out.

Adrian remained by her side, watching her intently. The blanket concealed most of her figure, leaving only her face visible—a delicate oval with flushed cheeks from the fever. She looked so small, so fragile, but in his heart, she carried a quiet strength that he couldn't quite put into words.

Her earlier words lingered in his mind, resonating with a warmth he hadn't expected. Unlike pity or condescension, they held understanding and unconditional tenderness, leaving him momentarily speechless.

In that moment, his heart softened. Adrian leaned forward, pressing a light, reverent kiss to her forehead. His gentle movements barely disturbed the air around them.

For the first time in a long while, he hoped for the snow to arrive.

When Sara woke up, the fever had mostly subsided, and her head felt much clearer. Her body, damp with a light sweat, felt warm beneath the covers.

The IV needle was gone, replaced with a small bandage on her hand. The bedside lamp casts a soft, golden glow over the room, illuminating the quiet space. Sara glanced at her phone—6:00 p.m. The day had slipped away while she slept.

A few messages from Ella Duvall waited for her, along with two news links she'd forwarded. Sara opened them one by one.

The first was an entertainment piece about Rachael Hall. In a recent interview, Rachael had addressed her connection with Adrian for the first time:

"Adrian was my father's student. We got to know each other through him during my university years. As for the recent news about him, I learned about it through the media, just like everyone else. I'm not aware of the specifics."

It was a significant departure from her previous evasiveness, her response direct and to the point. Sara didn't linger on it and moved to the next article.

The second was a business report. Thomas Blake, Adrian's father, had announced plans to appoint a new professional CEO for Blake Group. His stance on Adrian was unmistakably harsh. Furthermore, it was widely rumored that Thomas Blake had pressured allied companies to blacklist Adrian, effectively cutting off his career prospects in the industry.

It was a calculated move—either force Adrian to bow his head and admit fault or prove to him that without Blake Group, he was nothing.

Sara frowned, her heart sinking as she read. How would Adrian feel about this? How would he react to seeing these headlines?

Unable to shake her concern, she climbed out of bed, slipped into her slippers and headed downstairs. The faint aroma of cooking greeted her as she entered the living room, finding Adrian in the kitchen.

"You're awake?" He turned off the stove and walked out, grabbing a blanket from the couch and draping it over her shoulders. His hand brushed her forehead lightly. "Your fever's gone, but why aren't you wearing a jacket?"

"I'm fine," Sara said softly, her gaze lingering on him. Dressed in a light gray sweater with his sleeves rolled up, his slightly tousled hair added a casual touch to his usually composed demeanor. There was no trace of the heaviness he carried earlier in the day, only a quiet calm.

"Why are you staring at me?" Adrian asked, his tone tinged with amusement. "Still not feeling well?"

Instead of answering, Sara stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest.

Adrian froze for a moment before his arms naturally came up to hold her. He could feel the warmth of her cheek through the soft fabric of his sweater, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Her quiet gesture spoke volumes. She didn't need to say anything for him to feel the comfort and care she offered.

"You hungry?" he murmured, his voice soft as his chin rested lightly on her head.

She shook her head, still clinging to him. He chuckled, the sound low and rich, reverberating in his chest.

"You don't usually act this clingy," he teased. "What's gotten into you?"

Sara didn't answer, only held on tighter. Adrian found her rare show of affection utterly endearing.

After a while, she finally let go, her cheeks flushed. "Were you cooking? Is there anything I can help with?"

"It's done. Just wash your hands, and we can eat."

"Okay," she said, turning quickly toward the sink, eager to escape the embarrassment of her boldness.

As she reached for the faucet, Adrian followed. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, his chest pressing gently against her back.

His hands reached forward, adjusting the faucet to warm water before squirting soap into her palms. Slowly, he guided her hands, lathering and rinsing with meticulous care.

Sara's face burned, the intimacy of the moment leaving her flustered. The warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his presence filled her with a dizzying sense of closeness.

Adrian didn't step away after drying her hands with a paper towel. Instead, he remained close, his voice a low murmur against her ear.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked, his tone teasing yet gentle.

"I... I'm just..." Sara stammered, her face heating even more under his steady gaze.

Adrian's smile deepened as he leaned closer. "Just what?"

Unable to withstand the tension, Sara pressed her face against his chest again, her voice muffled. "I'm just... embarrassed, okay?"

Her soft admission made Adrian laugh, a low, rich sound that sent pleasant vibrations through her.

"All right, I won't ask," he said indulgently, his voice hinting at playful affection.

But as he glanced down at the telltale redness of her ears, he couldn't resist lightly brushing his fingers against them. The delicate warmth of her skin only made her reaction more obvious.

"Still," he mused with a grin, "if you get this flustered so easily, how will you handle it in the future?"