Page 40 of Drawn Together

I shivered violently.

“I should’ve cleaned your tattoo for you. I knew you couldn’t do it on your own.”

“I did clean it. The problem must’ve been that tattoo artist—who knows what kind of needle he used on me.”

Sebastian ignored my comment and placed a hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up. Please, just get in the bath.”

“I will. But don’t leave me.” I’m not sure where that came from—maybe I was delirious from the fever—but I asked him to stay… and he did.

Getting into that bath in my underwear was the most painful experience of my life. Not only was my tattoo burning like crazy, but I was also shaking like a leaf, sitting in the bath curled into a ball, hugging my knees and cursing everyone and everything, most of all whoever the hell invented tattoos in the first place.

“I hate you,” I said over and over, my teeth clacking loudly.

“I know.”

After twenty minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got on my feet. My hair and body were dripping wet, and I was still shaking violently.

Sebastian stood in front of me, and he couldn’t help but look at my soaked body. One glance was enough to see that my wet underwear didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Do you want to take a picture while I freeze to death?”

Sebastian ignored my comment once again and wrapped me in a white towel before helping me out of the tub. He placed me in front of the mirror while he gently dried me off, and I saw how horrible I looked. My face was red from the fever, and my hair hung in a limp cascade that dripped onto the floor.

“I’ll leave you to put on your pajamas.”

I looked at the clothes he’d set out for me, cursing again between gritted teeth. “Did I mention that I hate you?” I shouted weakly.

When he didn’t answer, I stepped into my underwear and slipped on the summer nightgown. I wanted fleece pajamas, with thick socks and a scarf, not something that still left parts of my skin exposed! Annoyed, I dried my hair with the towel and brushed it in under a minute.

On my way to my bedroom, I passed him without saying a word, then got into bed, still trembling, and pulled the comforter up to my ears. “Don’t even think about taking away my covers. I swear I’ll bite you if you try it.”

Sebastian sighed and handed me a thermometer. I put it under my arm, and when it started to beep, I gave it back to him.

“What does it say?” I asked, hopeful. If I’d gone through that torture for nothing, I swear, I was prepared to jump off the balcony, which would almost certainly be less painful.

“A hundred and one,” he said, frowning.

I smiled. “It worked.”

“It’s still a high fever.”

“Don’t be so annoying. It went down. Now, let me sleep.”

“You have to take this first.”

He gave me the pill and left my room.

I fell asleep instantly, or at least that’s how it seemed. I was exhausted, and felt as if I’d run barefoot through a blizzard, fallen off a cliff, and then walked eight hours straight through the desert.

I opened my eyes who knows how many hours later to a figure moving toward my bed, carrying a tray.

I immediately tensed and felt scared, like I was experiencing déjà vu.

“Don’t touch me! Let me go! Help!” I screamed desperately.

“Hey! Hey! Marfil, it’s me… It’s me, Sebastian.”

I stopped screaming and looked all around. I was in my room, with no trace of that basement…