Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Roseanne clearly had just woken up, dressed in a cozy set of pajamas adorned with cartoon bears, her eyes still a bit red from sleep.

She yawned, a slow, sluggish yawn, her reactions noticeably slower than usual.

"Did I wake you?" The old house was poorly insulated, and often, even with doors closed, one could hear footsteps in the hallway. Owen thought he might have been the cause of her disturbed sleep. Rubbing her eyes, Roseanne shook her head. "I was about to get up anyway, it's already half-past six."

She had plans to go shopping with Nola in the afternoon, so she needed to get up early to work on her thesis and sift through research material.

Seeing her still groggy, Owen's voice softened. "It's still early; you could catch some more sleep if you want."

Before he could finish, he was met with Roseanne's scrutinizing gaze, making him pause. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you have a cold?" she asked.

Uh-oh! Owen managed a smile. "You noticed?"

"Your voice sounds a bit hoarse. Do you have a fever?"

He touched his forehead, trying to check if he had a fever. "I don't know... can't really tell. Probably not," he said.

Roseanne couldn't help but be exasperated. "Mr. Reynolds, 'probably not'? Is that something a meticulous researcher should say?"

don't

do. Go back inside, and I'll bring

"Alright."

her drawer and sanitizing it thoroughly, Roseanne

the couch, a picture of discomfort, his shoes forgotten in his malaise - a stark

she called out softly,

her concern and a

he opened

Their gazes locked.

gazing into her small, slightly bewildered face, watching her eyelashes tremble and

"Professor, give this a try. I called you a couple of times; you gave me

indicated that he had a high

need to

suggestion.

have any at

Owen admitted, "No."

said, "I have some at mine. I'll go get it. I've got

Roseanne went to wash the cup and found

...

felt disheartened