You Are the Bright Light in the Clouds

After buzzing the doorbell for ages, Lucas finally let me in.

"Everything okay?"

I eyed Lucas, who was leaning weakly against the doorframe, concern etched on my face.

He was in his PJs, looking pale, with his hair all tousled—but still managing to look sharp.

"Why'd you show up?" His gaze swept over me briefly, his voice sounding frail.

I shook the cold meds in my hand, chuckling. "Heard you caught a bug, so I came to spread some love and warmth. Touching, right?"

Without waiting for his nod, I waltzed right in.

The place was a study in minimalist chic, all clean lines and cool grays.

Lucas ignored me, shutting the door and flopping down on the sofa.

His eyes closed, and he looked rough, with sweat dotting his forehead—he was clearly in a bad way.

Concerned, I approached and gently touched his forehead.

As soon as I made contact, he grabbed my wrist firmly.

He cracked open an eye, looking at me with an unreadable expression.

"You're burning up. Let's get you to a doctor," I suggested, feeling a bit helpless.

At the mention of a doctor, Lucas grimaced and released my wrist. "No need!"

"Then at least take some fever reducer."

He was adamant about not going, so I didn't push it.

I popped open the pillbox and handed him a couple of tablets.

He propped himself up and took them with a nod. "Thanks."

His voice was hoarse but somehow appealing.

"Don't be so formal!"

I dismissed them with a wave, settling down next to him on the couch.

Lucas lifted his water glass and swallowed the pills, and I couldn't help but notice his throat working—a surprisingly sexy sight.

"Lucas, why don't you like me?"

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" I propped my chin on my hands, gazing at him intensely.

My question made him pause mid-sip, a little startled.

He set down the glass, shaking his head gently.

"Is it because I'm not sexy enough?" I arched my back slightly, challenging him with my gaze.

Again, he shook his head, still keeping mum.

"Then why don't you like me?" My voice rose in frustration as I leaned in closer.

Perhaps my sudden proximity made him blush; his eyes darted away uncomfortably.

Undeterred, I boldly threw my arms around his neck, demanding his attention.

As I moved closer, his face reddened even more, and his breathing became choppy.

I took advantage of the moment and snuggled into him, pressing close.

"I'm beat. Give me a moment of peace."

Just as I was about to kiss him, Lucas gently pushed me away with a hand on my forehead.

Before I knew what was happening, he'd turned away and stretched out on the couch.

Such a gentleman, maintaining his composure!

Frustration bubbled up as I watched him pretend to doze off.

A sense of defeat deflated me, and I lay back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Soon, Lucas' steady breathing filled the room.

"Lucas?" I nudged him softly.

No reaction—he was out cold.

Asleep, Lucas was unexpectedly adorable.

I sat quietly, just watching him sleep.

He was curled up, his arm under his head, his unruly hair framing his face.

Sunlight filtered through the window, highlighting his fair complexion and sculpted features.

Watching him, I was struck by his resemblance to... that boy.

That distinct nose, those lush lashes, even his sleeping pose matched.

The realization squeezed my heart painfully.

My hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath the fabric.

One beat, two beats, three...

So comforting.

*****

The cold medicine must've made him extra drowsy; Lucas slept for hours.

When he finally woke up, it was dark outside.

He looked surprised for a second, probably not expecting me to still be there.

As he sat up, I instinctively reached out to check his forehead again.

This time, he let me, just sitting there while I felt for his temperature.

"Not bad, the fever's broken!" I smiled in relief. "I made some soup, let me serve you some."

I turned to head to the kitchen.

"What happened to your hand?"

The moment I took a step, Lucas caught my arm.

His eyes fixed on the redness swelling on my hand, his brow furrowed in concern.

"It's nothing, just scorched it a bit," I downplayed, indicating it was no big deal.

Lucas, still holding my hand, led me to the sink.

"You got a burn and didn't treat it? What were you thinking?"

He gently scolded, turning on the faucet and carefully rinsing my hand with cool water.

His touch was gentle, and cautious as if he didn't want to hurt me.

This was the first time he'd ever initiated any real closeness with me.

Clearly, men are suckers for a bit of tender care!

"Lucas!"

I stared at him intently, a faint smile playing on my lips.

"Hmm?"

He looked up at me, puzzled by my tone.

"You know they say, 'A small kindness is never forgotten'? I brought you meds, made you soup, even burned my hand..."

I let my voice trail off, hinting at more.

"And?" Lucas raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"So, how about being my boyfriend?"

I tugged at his sleeve, eyes wide with earnestness.

Lucas remained silent, focusing on my hand as he continued to rinse it.

I let out a soft sigh, laying it on thick. "Look, I'm attractive, good-hearted, and being your girlfriend is a good deal for you."

Lucas stayed quiet, lost in thought.

"Plus, I'm efficient, cook well, and I'm low maintenance!" I added, not ready to give up.

Still silent, Lucas just kept washing my hand.

Impatient, I withdrew my hand, put my hands on my hips, and glared at him. "I'm fair-skinned, tall, and I've got curves!"

"Really?" Lucas finally cracked a smile, a soft laugh escaping him.

"Yes! A catch like me isn't easy to find. Pass me up today, and you might miss out forever! What if I fall for another guy tomorrow? Don't you want to think it over?" I pushed, seeing an opening.

"Well, maybe I..."

Listening to my earnest plea, Lucas' lips twitched into a wry smile as he gave me a thorough once-over.

"I'll think about it."