Staying up too late and running around all day had left Drusilla exhausted, so she fell into a deep sleep.
Oberon offered a polite smile, glanced at Enoch, and then stepped out with Cybele.
Sitting up in bed, Drusilla caught Enoch's gaze fixed on her, feeling a bit uneasy under his scrutiny. “Don’t you have work?” she asked.
“I was supposed to attend a meeting, but I skipped it.” Enoch couldn’t shake off his concern for her, especially since he felt responsible for her falling ill. So, he decided to stay by her side.
Gently, he reached out, placing his hand on her forehead, and asked softly, “Feeling any better?”
“Eh, somewhat,” Drusilla replied.
She noticed Enoch wasn’t as distant as he had been the night before. He actually seemed... kind?
What changed?
Did seeing her sick stir his conscience?
Hearing her say she felt somewhat better, Enoch withdrew his hand, half-teasing, half-scolding, “Are you silly? Sleeping without even pulling up a blanket. You practically turned yourself into a popsicle! Were you trying to guilt-trip me into taking care of you?”
“Not at all,” Drusilla defended herself. “I just thought I’d lie down for a bit since it wasn’t chilly inside.”
She had felt too awkward to tell him she wanted to stay over, especially with him being so aloof last night. But as the night grew colder, so did she.
When Enoch heard her say it wasn’t chilly inside, he remembered his own foolish action, feeling a bit awkward. “Sorry.”
“What?”
Why was he apologizing out of the blue?
Drusilla was puzzled, her curiosity piqued.
“I thought it was too warm, so I turned down the temperature. That’s why you got sick,” Enoch confessed, avoiding the more embarrassing truth that he had acted childishly, hoping to get her to comply.


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