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?"

I don't have a

back inside, and

"Alright."

in her drawer and sanitizing it thoroughly, Roseanne

a picture of discomfort, his shoes forgotten

quietly, she called out

her concern and a closer approach.

opened

Their gazes locked.

her small, slightly bewildered face, watching her eyelashes tremble and flutter like butterfly wings, each flutter tugging at

him the thermometer. "Professor, give this a try. I called

that he had

need to see a

the suggestion. "Some

you have any at

Owen admitted, "No."

said, "I have some at mine. I'll go get it. I've got some cold medicine too; taking it with fever

Roseanne went to wash the cup and found him asleep upon

...

felt disheartened by Murray's