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Sylus Li does not get sick.
There were just some days he got unlucky and his body would overheat and malfunction. Stopping him from getting out of his house.
At a time like this, his solution was simple. He would text his assistant to keep anyone from bothering him, downed a shit ton of paracetamol, then slept it out until it was gone. It would only take two days at most, and he’d be good as new.
Unfortunately, the universe decided to be an asshole and gave him the most violent fever to date. During the busiest week of his career, too.
Sylus’s head hadn’t stopped spinning. His body felt like it was being cooked on the stove and being frozen in the fridge at the same time. His eyes and nose hadn’t stopped running, even after the mountain of scrunched tissues piled up next to him. The worse part was, he couldn’t move out of bed. Just trying to lift his body already made him nauseous, let alone getting medicine from the cabinet across the room (he truly regretted not putting them in his nightstand drawer). Everything hurt and sore and sucked, Sylus wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up passing out.
Two hours. He would try to sleep in two hours. If things hadn’t gotten better, he had no choice but to call Kieran and ask him to tend him for the day.
Sylus closed his eyes. Fever-hazed mind brought him into yet another weird dream, where a giant snowman paid him a visit. Looking at Sylus with full of concern. The snowman whispered ‘he’s burning up’ and took out a magical stick, he began chanting a spell which, to Sylus, sounded more like the lyrics of Red Flavor, one of the songs he sang at karaoke the other day. Before he could question anything, the snowman booped his nose with the stick, and Sylus found himself back in his bed.
He blinked slowly. As he was gaining consciousness, Sylus started to notice things that he was sure hadn’t been there before. The blanket covering his body up to his neck, socks wrapping up his feet, and some kind of cold stuff stuck on his forehead, which he then learned was a fever-cooling pad.
Then his door was opened. Sylus was too weak to be surprised, but he couldn’t believe how relieved he was as he recognized the handsome intruder making his way towards his bed.
“Hello, Mr Snowman.”
Zayne placed a mug on to the nightstand. Sitting at the edge of the bed while taking the thermometer, which turned out had been nestling in Sylus’s armpit for quite some time without him knowing. Zayne’s sigh sounded like it pained him. “That’s almost forty,” he set the thermometer away. “Have you eaten?”
Sylus opened his mouth, then closed it again because he didn’t dare to answer. He expected a scolding from his snowman, or at least a string of grumbles on how careless Sylus had been and so on. But Zayne didn’t say a word. He slipped his arm below Sylus’s shoulder, helping him sitting up before adjusting the pillows behind his back. Then he grabbed the mug, gently blowing the steam off its surface before carefully bringing it to Sylus’s lips.
“Careful.”
His flu made everything taste bitter, but Sylus was glad Zayne put enough honey in the tea that the sweetness managed to power through. Every sip sent warmth from his throat all the way to his stomach. He held the mug on his lap, letting it heat up his palms. Zayne’s gentle fingers ran through Sylus’s hair, pushing the damp strays off his forehead.
“It should be ready. Eat first, then the medicine.”
Sylus watched Zayne leaving his room. Smiling as he continued sipping on his tea. If they’d chosen his residence as their home, their bedroom would be too far and too big to hear anything outside the room. Zayne purposefully set their room near the kitchen, and not far from the center of the house. So now Sylus could faintly hear some clinks and clanks from the opened door. It sent him comfort, somehow, after years staying in a place where signs of living were dampened by the distance.
His husband went back and forth. First he came back with a folding table, the one he usually used to open his laptop from his bed. Zayne made a quick work of unfolding it above Sylus’s lap. Then he did a little run out of the room, returning with a tray and a steaming bowl sitting on top.
Through his blocked nose, Sylus caught a whiff of garlic and something herb-y, which he’d learned was rosemary as he spotted the leaves floating on the surface of the bowl. Covering the shredded chicken and bow-tie shaped noodles.
Sylus gulped. His stomach immediately growled at the sight of the food. He muttered his thanks and was about to take the spoon, only for Zayne to lightly slap his hand away and took over. Sitting before Sylus as he stirred the soup.
“Ow,” said Sylus with a pout.
Zayne wasn’t fazed. Cutting the pasta in smaller pieces before taking the broth and chicken in the spoon, making sure every ingredient has a balanced amount. He blew on it gently before feeding it to Sylus.
Once again Sylus wished he wasn’t sick, because this soup would’ve been so much tastier if his mouth wasn’t bitter. All he could taste was bland saltiness with the faintest of spices.
Well, at least it was the perfect food to fill his stomach that had been empty for god knows how long. Being fed by his husband was a lovely bonus.
“Did you make this?”
“Bought it on the way home. Moon’s Tavern. We went there for brunch one time.”
“Ah,” Sylus remembered. Their pesto gnocchi was a little salty, but Zayne’s french toast was perfect. Immaculate vibe and service. “Shouldn’t there be carrots in their chicken noodle soup?”
“I asked for no carrots.”
“Why?”
“It ruins the taste. Can’t let my poor husband lose his already low appetite.”
Sylus let out a snort, “How thoughtful.”
Outside, the wind seemed to be quite strong. Making the leaves rustle and the tip of the branches tapping the windows. Zayne stayed quiet for a while. Focused on feeding Sylus the soup.
“How did you know?”
Zayne gave him a look. Then he took his phone out of his pocket. Tapping the screen a few times.
“I’m sick. Postpone all meetings to the 18th. Don’t bother me until then. Tell Kieran too. Thanks. With t-h-x,” He read the message out loud. “I’m afraid you sent this to the wrong person.”
Sylus flashed an awkward grimace. No wonder Zayne stared at him like he was in trouble. “Was supposed for Luke. Sorry.”
“That’s the more disappointing part. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s just a fever, sweetheart. I’m not gonna bother Linkon’s finest surgeon for such simple matter.”
That answer certainly didn’t please Zayne.
“Your body’s burning. You couldn’t move out of bed. If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t have eaten a thing.” His voice grew sharp, much to Sylus’s regret. “When you’re sick, the least you could do is let me know.”
It took Sylus a little more effort to swallow his food this time. Before they started living together, Sylus never told Zayne whenever he got sick. He’d come up with excuses or sometimes even pretended to work. Again, because all he needed was hibernate for a couple of days. He’d also thought it would only make Zayne worry and adding to his already-huge burden.
Guess in marriage that was a whole different matter.
Sylus still had a lot to learn.
“I’m sorry, Zayne,” he said. Reaching for Zayne’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. ’“I should’ve let you know.”
Only then did Zayne’s expression soften. He let out a small sigh. “I accept the apology if you keep on eating. Now open.”
Sylus ate until there was only a quarter of soup left. Zayne cleaned up, folding the table back and putting it away before asking if Sylus wanted a dessert. When Sylus showed interest, he disappeared into the kitchen for the third time. Sylus couldn’t help but laugh when Zayne came back almost ten minutes later with two mugs of hot chocolate.
“Two sweet drinks in one day? Is this really safe, doctor?”
“The tea was for energy. This is medicine.”
“Medicine,” Sylus repeated. Brows raised. “Interesting.”
“Well, at least, my go-to medicine. I always drink hot chocolate when I’m sick.”
Sylus grabbed one of the mugs from him. Taking a few sips before placing it on the nightstand right next to his tea. It brought him to a random memory back when they were still dating. When Sylus had come to Zayne’s place and found him with a runny nose and occasional sneezing. Sylus remembered he’d washed a mug that smelled like chocolate before they went to bed. So that was why.
“Tell me, Sweetie. How would this medicine improve my health?”
Zayne sipped his own drink. “For one, this is dark chocolate and home made, so it’s pretty high on antioxidant and minerals. It also makes your brain releases four chemicals; endorphins, serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin. They make you feel better. Quite literally.”
The two shared a soft laugh. Zayne then looked down. Brushing his thumb along the edge of the mug.
“Ever since I was a kid, you know how my parents are, so—I’m mostly alone at home. Whenever I get sick, the only thing I could stomach was sweet things. So I would go to the kitchen and make myself this. It was a way to comfort myself, I’d say. The warmth would make me feel less, alone.”
It pierced right through Sylus’s chest. The image of child Zayne struggling to reach the cupboard and make himself hot chocolate weakened his heart.
“What I’m gonna say is, I know how it feels. Being sick and all by yourself,” Zayne continued. “It took me years to admit how much I hated it. That’s why I don’t want you to go through the same thing, Sylus. You have a husband. It doesn’t matter how small the problem is or how busy I am, I will find a way to take care of you.”
There were now three mugs sitting on their nightstand. Two of them let out a thin line of steam, gently greeting the lamp cover. Zayne’s hands, much warmer than usual after holding a hot drink, held one of Sylus’s hands and brought it to the side of his face. His cheek soft against Sylus’s palm.
“Promise to not hide something like this from me again?”
Perhaps when your body was vulnerable, your emotions tend to follow along. And just how could Sylus say no to those eyes?
“Only if you do the same,” Sylus answered, caressing his husband’s cheek. “I’ll make sure you won’t drink hot chocolate alone ever again.”
There was a cheerful glint beneath those hazel irises. Zayne pressed a kiss on Sylus’s palm. His smile brighter and sweeter and it made Sylus’s entire week.
Zayne then gave him the actual medicine. One paracetamol and a flu tablet to ease the sneezing. Feeling utterly loved and cared for, Sylus was about to thank Zayne and tell him to return to the hospital. As his work hours had not yet ended and Sylus remembered Zayne told him his agenda this morning. But to his surprise, Zayne carefully shoved himself into Sylus’s blanket. Slipping an arm beneath Sylus’s neck. Next thing Sylus knew, he was completely cocooned by the thick blanket and Zayne’s embrace.
“Don’t you have, uh, consultation sessions?”
Zayne checked his watch. “It won’t start in… one and a half hour. I’ve got time.”
Sylus took his time to process everything. With his face buried in his husband’s chest, Sylus could hear Zayne’s heartbeat. Its rhythm as steady as his breathing. Calming Sylus’s nerves and making him drowsy.
Never mind being treated like this. Thirty two years of his life, the only time he was in a hospital was when his mother gave birth to him. Growing up, his family chefs had fed him the highest quality of meals. Every hobby, every routine, every activity Sylus did was closely supervised by the staff to maintain his top condition. Because the head of the Qin Family believed being seen with illness could only mean the family’s failure of taking care of their own assets, which reflects the family’s business itself.
So whenever one of the family members got sick, Mr Qin’s order was to isolate them in their residence. He would only let them call a doctor in if things had gone worse. To the old man, maintaining the perfect image was far more important than maintaining their actual health.
That insanity was one of the main reasons why Sylus withdrew his name from being the company’s heir. Why he took over one of their branch business instead and moved away from what was once called home.
But that would be a story for another time.
“Zayne.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
Zayne pressed his lips on Sylus’s forehead. Soft, sweet, lingered long enough to melt Sylus’s heart once again. “Feel better, okay?”
Now, his home was in Zayne's arms.