["Jump," he said. I craned my neck to get one glimpse of his face; he held onto me and rested his head on my shoulder.

"What sort of question is that?" I asked, scoffing. His fingers traced soothing circles on my abdomen as he inched closer—if that was even possible.

"Would you? If I asked?" There was no curiosity in that voice. He seemed worried about something.

"What are you asking me, Michael?" I tried one last time to look at him, but he tilted his face so that I felt his hot breath on my neck.

This feels so weird, I thought to myself. What are we doing?

"I don't know what I'm asking you!" he groaned. He started pulling away from me. I don't know what came over me, but I grasped his hands in mine and secured them to me.

I'll never let you go.

"If you told me to jump," I began. I felt him kiss my throat ever so lightly. "I'd ask you how high..." his hands curved up my body and pulled me flush against him. "What are you doing?" my lungs ached with the need to collapse. It needed to suck in invaluable air or it would pass out with the sheer force of the shock that my body registered in varying magnitudes.

"Love you," he stated simply.

"For now," I agreed.

"Yes."

And then he turned me around and kissed me.]

.

Anthony's fever had broken when I woke up. He had somehow rolled away from me and was on the other side of the bed. I, on the other hand, had woken up with a sore neck. He was sound asleep as I slipped out of bed and trudged towards the kitchen to help myself to some food. Finding myself in a good mood, despite my protesting neck, I fixed him a plate as well.

The man was extremely lucky to be receiving breakfast in bed. Not everyone has the fortune to be served every day. When I nudged him awake, he groaned and rolled over to shove his face into the pillow.

"Delighted to know that you feel better," I deadpanned.

"Go away," he groaned.

"I brought you breakfast and medicine..." I tried to tempt him. I could hear a distinct huff as he turned over and squinted at me. "Get up, Michael," I teased. A smile appeared on his lips but soon faded away when another groan escaped him, his brows scrunched up as he threw a hand over his eyes to block the rays of the sun.

"Someone needs to tell the goddamn sun to take a break."

"Yes, boss, I'll call him up in a few and let him know," I snorted.

"Just give me the medicine, woman," he almost growled. I decided that I was suddenly really happy that he had gotten sick. I reached over with a glass of water and a pill in my hand. He seemed to be ignorant of the fact that I was fully prepared and hovering over him, waiting for him to relieve me of my nursing duties.

"Do you want me to shove it down your throat, my Highness?" His hands left his face and rested midair as he peered at me.

"Calm down, wife," he teased. I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to sincerely shove said pills down his throat and make him choke on water, out of love, I assure you.

"Take them," I ordered in a low, dangerous voice. He was pliant and followed the order. He seemed to have no residual weakness apart from the raging headache (which he himself was. It served him right!). He leaned back into the headboard and took the medicine from me. He then washed it down with the water.

"Thank you, Mia," he expressed as he sat straighter and reached out to grip my hands. An inconsolable sting spread through my arm, but I didn't react. Suddenly his eyes flew to where he held me. His hand dropped like it was on fire. I chuckled lightly, knowing that he was still worried about the bullet incident.

It was endearing to the point that it could turn irritating at any moment of time.

"Help yourself to breakfast and catch up on some sleep," I advised before I stood up. "I'll go downstairs and see to the fact that the preparations for our trip goes smoothly." He nodded absently.

"Hey, Mia?" he called me out, just as I was about to leave. I swivelled back and stared at him expectantly. "Did I ask you to stay last night?" his voice dropped a few notches as he stared right back at me.

"No, you didn't, Boss." Not wanting to embarrass him with the details of his feverish yammering, I hastily retreated from the room.

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