Every Girl Wants A Moon

Chapter 23: Closer

Sophia

The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of blankets as Chase shifted in bed. Sophia sat curled up in the chair beside him, her knees drawn to her chest, watching his slow, even breaths.

Now that the worst of his fever had passed, exhaustion was catching up to her. She hadn't slept much, too focused on checking his temperature, making sure he had water, adjusting the cool washcloth on his forehead whenever he stirred. But now, as sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the bed, relief settled over her.

He was okay.

Sophia let out a slow breath, her fingers absently twisting in the sleeve of her sweater. She'd never seen Chase like this before—vulnerable, quiet. He was always so strong, so steady. He had a way of making her feel safe, like nothing could touch her when he was around. But last night, the roles had shifted. The sight of him weak and feverish, barely able to stay upright when he first came home, had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

And she had taken care of him.

It had been instinctual. The moment she realized he wasn't fine—despite his insistence otherwise—something in her had clicked into place. She didn't hesitate, didn't overthink. She just did what needed to be done. That was new. She wasn't used to being the one offering comfort. But with Chase, it had felt... right.

A quiet sigh pulled her from her thoughts. Chase stirred slightly, his head turning toward her, lashes fluttering as he blinked sluggishly. For a moment, he just stared at her, still caught in the haze of sleep.

Then, his lips curved into a faint, lopsided smirk. "You watching me sleep, sweet girl?" His voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion, but the teasing was still there.

Sophia huffed, crossing her arms. "I was making sure you were still breathing."

His smirk widened slightly, but there was no real strength behind it. He still looked drained, though not nearly as pale as the night before. "Appreciate that."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't fight the warmth blooming in her chest. He was feeling better. Not completely back to himself, but the spark of familiarity was there.

Chase exhaled deeply, shifting onto his side, and his expression softened as he looked at her. "You stayed with me."

The words were quiet, almost like a realization rather than a question.

Sophia felt her cheeks warm. "Of course I did."

Something flickered in Chase's expression—something warm and unreadable. He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to process what this meant. Then, his eyes softened even more, and he reached out, his fingers curling around hers.

"You're too good to me," he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

Sophia swallowed hard, suddenly shy under his gaze. "You take care of me all the time," she admitted. "I just... wanted to take care of you, too."

Chase's lips pressed together like he was trying to hold back a smile, but his blue eyes burned with something deeper. He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against her knuckles before threading their fingers together.

"I think I could get used to that," he whispered.

Chase

Chase hated feeling weak.

He hated the heaviness in his limbs, the fog that had clouded his brain last night, the way he'd barely been able to sit up without Sophia's help. He wasn't used to being taken care of—he didn't want to be taken care of. That wasn't how it was supposed to work.

He was supposed to be the one looking after her.

Chase ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. His fever had broken, leaving behind nothing but an ache in his muscles and a weight in his chest that had nothing to do with being sick.

Sophia had stayed with him.

She had sat by his bedside all night, worrying, taking care of him, losing sleep over him. And that thought—more than anything else—made something tighten in his gut.

She shouldn't have had to do that.

He turned his head, his gaze locking onto her. She looked tired. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her posture slightly slumped, and even though she was trying to act like everything was fine, he could see the exhaustion written all over her face.

Guilt twisted in his chest.

"Sophia," his voice was rough but firm, "when was the last time you slept?"

She blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone. "I—I don't know. I was making sure you—"

Chase let out a sharp breath, frustration lacing his features. "Sweetheart, you should've been taking care of yourself, not me."

She frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "But you were sick—"

"And you need sleep," he cut in, his blue eyes darkening with concern. "You can't run yourself into the ground over me, baby."

Sophia opened her mouth, then closed it, her fingers curling in her lap. "You do it for me," she said quietly.

Chase's jaw clenched. "That's different."

"Why?"

Because even though I truly appreciate you taking care or me, I'm supposed to be the strong one. Because I can't stand seeing you exhausted because of me. Because the thought of you losing sleep over me makes me feel like I failed at taking care of you.

He didn't say any of that.

Instead, he sighed, sitting up properly for the first time. His body still ached, but the fever was gone, and he felt stronger than he had last night. Strong enough to fix this.

He reached for her, tugging her forward until she was close enough for him to cup her face gently. His thumb brushed over her cheek, his brows furrowing.

"You're pale," he muttered. "You barely slept, didn't you?"

Sophia tried to shrug it off, but he could see the way her body sagged slightly.

"That's it," Chase muttered. "You're going to bed."

She blinked at him. "But—"

"No buts, sweet girl." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "You stayed up all night worrying about me. Now it's my turn."

Sophia's lips parted, and for a second, he thought she might fight him on it. But then, something in her expression softened. Maybe she saw how much this was bothering him—how much he hated that she had put herself last for his sake.

Slowly, she nodded.

Chase let out a breath of relief, shifting the blankets as he patted the empty spot beside him. "C'mere."

Sophia hesitated, glancing between him and the bed. "But—"

"I'm not contagious anymore," he smirked slightly, "and you look like you're about to fall over."

She sighed but crawled into bed beside him, hesitantly tucking herself under the covers.

Chase pulled her close without thinking, his arms wrapping around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She let out a small breath, relaxing against him.

"That's better," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Sophia let out a tired hum of agreement, her body melting against his warmth.

Chase tightened his hold on her, his lips brushing against her hair as he whispered, "Sleep, sweet girl. I've got you."

And for the first time in a long time, he let himself take care of her.