10. My muse takes cares of yours when yours becomes sick
This was a joke, right? A dream, perhaps. Or, her eyes were deceiving her. This was too weird, too unexpected. And that was why her heart was beating so fast.. right?
Obviously, because a certain sandy-haired young detective with
way too charmingbutterscotch eyes could not be in front of her now. Though, at this moment, you couldn’t see said eyes. And, why not?Because one Saguru James Hakuba was unconscious and sweating on a hotel bed in front of her.
Add a 38.7 degrees Celsius fever and the package was complete.
But let’s rewind.
Our favorite blonde phantom thief was taking a day for herself. Cozy but fashionable in a simple, short black strap dress and oversized black speckled wool cardigan. Sheer black tights covered her long legs all the way to her short high-heeled boots in a dark red hue to match her lips. A black envelope-style crossbody purse crossed her with a cold chain, Her hair down in waves around her face with large stylish earrings on either side, completing the look.
Today was her day out — no parties, no teas, no charities. Jeanne had spent a peaceful morning devouring the latest Haruki Murakami book along with a rather tasty breakfast at a trendy cafe. Draining the last of her tea cup, she got up to leave for a stroll at the nearby park. The place had of late become a favorite of hers, the lake surrounded with trees and abundance of flowers was gorgeous in spring time. Of course, it was winter now, but the lake was still a pretty sight.
The park conveniently had nicely made benches for viewing this lake. However, instead of a seat, the blonde found more. The debonair detective who had invaded her mind (many more times than she’d admit!) was lying on the bench in front her, seemingly unconscious. And in that ridiculous Sherlock Holmes outfit. Her heart leapt. What was he doing? Is he alright..?
Rushing to him, she bent over the detective and waved a hand over his face. “Hakuba. Hakuba! Butterscotch boy! Hakuba-chan! Hakubi!”
Despite the depreciating nature of her calls, the detective only mumbled and turned. Placing a hand on his face, she blinked. With the object of her recent attentions in front of her, her mind seemed to be having a conversation with itself. Boy, was he hot. Sure he is. I mean no! His face, his face! Yes, that’s also hot. I mean, he has a fever. FEVER.
Straightening up, she shook her head. He obviously needed medical attention. Taking out her phone, she murmured, “One ambulance..” However, the detective chose that moment to regain enough consciousness to protest. “You’re sick, sir. Medically.” He opened those butterscotch just enough to give her a pleading look before going back to wherever he came from in his consciousness.
Jeanne sighed. What should to do now? She couldn’t just leave him. But there was no way she could show him where she was living. Unconscious and feverish or not, Hakuba was still a sharp one. Who knows what he could do with the information. The thief would rather not find out.
Well, there’s this way but.. But what? He needs help. Phone still out, she dialed for a taxi. A driver experienced with drunks and a 15 minute ride later with the detective’s head in her lap (for comfort, of course) later, they arrived at a luxury hotel.
So frequently had the blonde visited the hotel’s ballroom, tearoom, restaurant, bars, and other amenities that the staff was more than eager to answer her needs. They transported the detective to the bed a room within moments with a promise to deliver her requested items soon.
And here she was, gazing at Hakuba who wasn’t exactly in best form. Clearly, as the sweat was beginning to soak through his shirt. Crossing room to sit on the bed, she managed to get him to sit up (whilst ignoring his here-and-there mumbling) and began to remove his outerwear and tie. Before reaching for the top button of his collared shirt, Jeanne hesitated, her cheeks pink. He needs to be wiped down! Calm down, he’s a sick person. Just a sick person. Gingerly, and gradually, the buttons came undone.
After easing off the wet shirt, she wiped him down with a towel taken from the bathroom. Violet eyes widened in shock at the scars on his body. What caused these? He.. As if not wanting to cause them to hurt, she took extra care in wiping the scarred area with a mixed look of sadness and concern on her face.
Knocking interrupted her. “Miss Jeanne?”
Shaking her head of her previous thoughts, the blonde went to collect her requested items with thanks and a tip. Using her foot to close the door quietly, Jeanne began to sort through the bags. Sleeping clothes, medicine, thermostat, cooling pads — everything was there.
Well, the wiping was done. For the upper portion. Cheeks reddened once more. Should I? She shook her head. He’d just have to sleep in his pants. Taking off his shoes and belt was the most she would do. After completing those tasks, she helped put on the pajama shirt. Thankfully, Jeanne had remembered to ask for the button type, making dressing him much easier.
Next is.. temperature. Yikes! 38.7?? No wonder he’s out for the count. He needs medicine now!
Medicine and water bottle in either hand, the blonde sat once more on the bed. “Hakuba, take your medicine.”
Mumble. Groan. To add to that, a head turn. Oh, dear.
She stared at him, at a loss. Finally, a determined look became apparent in violet eyes. Putting the medicine in her own mouth with a bit of water, she set down the bottle on the bedside table and took the detective’s face in her now free hand. Swiftly, cool lips met feverish ones as the blonde transferred the medicine to his mouth from hers. Swallow.
Thank Kami-sama he’s unconscious. Gently as she could, Jeanne laid him to resting position on the bed. Taking out the extra sheets, she covered him. Sweeping aside his bangs, she paused before giving his a temple a small kiss. The thief couldn’t help it, he looked so uncomfortable. Curiously though, he seemed to calm down after the act. Fantastic, he probably thinks I’m his mother. Well better that than me, actually.
One cooling pad was placed on his forehead and a note written with instructions to take medicine when the hotel staff called. She had told them to give the room a wake-up call when another dose was needed. Water, medicine, and extra cooling pads within reach of him, all he needed now was rest.
Taking a seat once more on the bed by him, she wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on his face again almost.. lovingly? The thief froze. What was she doing? Am I? No. Nooooo. There is no way. Liking Hakuba? A detective. That would be the equivalent asking for a go-to-jail-now card. No, thank you!
Time to leave. Drawing away, a hand suddenly covered hers. His. “Don’t leave,” he groaned, still more than half asleep. Smiling crookedly, Jeanne gently took her hand from his. “Sleep now. You’ll feel better soon.”
She got up and got her purse. Opening the door, violet eyes looked one last time on the sleeping figure. A wistful look and the crooked smile once again appearing on her face, she said,
“I won’t leave, because I was never here.”
Leaving no trace of herself, she closed the door behind her.
