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?"

"Well, I don't have a

and I'll bring it over

"Alright."

sanitizing

a picture of discomfort, his shoes forgotten in his malaise - a

quietly, she called out

response came, prompting her concern and a

opened his

Their gazes locked.

into her small, slightly bewildered face, watching her eyelashes tremble and flutter like butterfly

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

that he had a

need to see

the suggestion. "Some

have

Owen admitted, "No."

I'll go get it. I've got some cold medicine too;

took the medicine, Roseanne went to wash the cup and found him asleep upon her return. She covered him with a blanket

...

felt disheartened