A Bloody Rose

Chapter 07

That morning Winry woke up…well, just woke up. There were no lights that invaded her eyes and no noises. It felt…strange, frankly. In other words, she just got up as if it was a reflex or instinct to do so.

She noticed that his curtains were covering his windows from bringing sunlight in. And even though the windows weren't open, there was a cold draft in the room. She shivered from it and brought the covers back up to her neck, while sitting up, of course.

She heard some noise come from the entrance, the door, and she turned her head towards the sound. When Frederick arrived, she let out a relieved sigh; she had thought it was the King. And unfortunately, that would be horrible for her.

Despite being a vampire, she could see creases on his forehead. 'Stress?' was what she thought at first. When she got off of the bed she received his attention.

"Ah, you're still here," he remarked. She wasn't sure if that was a negative or positive comment coming from an indifferent guy like him.

"Yeah," She quietly replied. "Oh, um, thanks for the previous night; it really helped deal with the weather outside." She showed off a light smile on her lips.

He lightly shrugged, "It wasn't a big deal." But he was a bit alarmed when she quietly coughed. He looked at her in a peculiar way. "Are you alright?"

Winry thought that the fact he took the time to care about her – even if it was as mild as this – took her on a different course of what she thought about him. "Yeah, just a light cough, that's all."

"Very well then," He said, though in the back of his mind was if she was coming down with something. A fever, perhaps? She has been working a lot of hours, now.

"See you," Frederick muttered, walking away. He looked at his fading shadow as he walked away with that same old violin case on his back. She was most certainly surprised that he left her in his room alone. Winry had always thought that his room had been more of a personal place to him.

Her lips tugged upwards as she got off the bed and ready to work.

When she went downstairs to continue on the housework from yesterday, she felt lightheaded. With the back of her hand, she touched her forehead. It was too warm for an average temperature. She ignored it and started washing the floors the floors with a washcloth.

Frederick, on the other hand, was behind the corridors when he noticed her quickened breathing and her glazed eyes. He obviously knew that something was wrong with her. He walked over to Winry and bent down to the ground, where she was. It surprised her at first but when the back of his hand touched her head, she felt more surprised.

"You're burning up," he murmured. She lightly laughed, and then coughed, covering her mouth.

"I-It's nothing; just a slight cold," she assured him. He sighed and lightly shook his head. "No," He stated, "it's a fever. You've gotten sick." He let out another sigh and got up to his feet, Winry following him. "Is there any medicine in the kitchen cabinet?"

She shook her head. "But it's truly alright; I'll be fine," she repeated. He walked towards the door and grabbed his jacket off of the coat rack. "W-Where are you going?"

"To get some medicine, obviously," he responded in a gruff manner. Then he shut the door, leaving her wondering why he had taken such a sudden interest in her wellbeing.

Frederick had his hands in his pocket, his violin case in the same position, and his back was hunched as he walked outside in the cold.

He saw others stare at him and even whisper about him. It was a daily routine; it didn't bother him.