Cheng Xiao opened his mouth obediently, but frowned when the pill touched the tip of his tongue, complaining vaguely: "It's so bitter..."
"Swallow it."
He shook his head, holding the medicine in his mouth and refusing to move, his eyes full of aggrieved expression.
Jiang Zhiran had no choice but to hand over the cup of water: "Drink water."
Cheng Xiao took a sip from her hand, but suddenly started coughing and almost spit out the pill. Jiang Zhiran frantically patted his back, and he took the opportunity to lean into her arms, resting his forehead on her shoulder, breathing hotly: "Uncomfortable..."
"You deserve it." Jiang Zhiran said this, but did not push him away.
Cheng Xiao took advantage of the situation and buried his face in her neck, his voice muffled: "Sister, pat my head..."
"......"
"Just for a moment..."
Jiang Zhiran froze for a moment, but eventually raised her hand and gently rubbed his hair. Cheng Xiao's hair was soft and slightly damp from the fever, and felt like a small animal's.
He sighed contentedly and nuzzled into her arms: "Sister is the best..."
Jiang Zhiran's ears felt hot, and he said fiercely, "Go to sleep after taking the medicine!"
Cheng Xiao hummed, but didn't move, still leaning on her. His breathing gradually became steady, and he seemed to be about to fall asleep, but he still mumbled vaguely: "Sister, don't leave..."
Jiang Zhiran looked down at him and found that he had closed his eyes, his eyelashes casting a small shadow on his face, making him look particularly well-behaved.
She sighed softly, but ultimately didn't push him away.
—————————————————
When the morning light came in through the gap in the curtains, Cheng Xiao's eyelashes trembled slightly. He opened his eyes and found that his forehead was resting on Jiang Zhiran's shoulder - she had actually slept like this leaning against the headboard all night.
His fever had subsided, but his throat was still dry and sore. Looking down, he saw Jiang Zhiran's hand still loosely resting in his hair, her fingertips tingling with a strand of his hair. She was sleeping soundly, her breathing even, and her usually tense brow was rarely relaxed.
Cheng Xiao held his breath, carefully tracing her sleeping face with his eyes. The morning light gilded her eyelashes, casting shadows like butterflies. He suddenly remembered the sigh he had heard in his drowsiness last night, so soft it seemed like an illusion.
————It turns out that she really didn’t leave.
This realization made his heart swell. He moved very lightly, wanting to push away the strands of hair that fell to her lips, but the moment he touched her, his wrist was grabbed.
"Get up when you wake up." Jiang Zhiran's voice was hoarse from just waking up. His eyes were not fully open yet, but the strength in his hands had not decreased at all.
Cheng Xiao let her hold him, and suddenly laughed: "Sister, you stayed with me all night?"
Jiang Zhiran suddenly let go of his hand, and the tips of his ears turned red at a visible speed: "Who will watch over you? I'm afraid you'll burn to death in my bed in the middle of the night."
She stumbled as she stood up—she had been in the same position for too long, and half her body was numb. Cheng Xiao subconsciously reached out to help her, but she glared at him fiercely: "Don't touch me!"
But when she turned to leave, she found her clothes were caught again. Cheng Xiao's fingertips were still weak from the illness, and the force was so light that it felt like a feather brushing: "...Thank you."
Jiang Zhiran froze in place. In the morning light, he looked up at her with eyes as pure as the first melting snow, without any trace of his usual sass.
"The medicine is by the bed," she finally said sternly, "and if you have a fever again, don't come into my room."
Cheng Xiao watched her almost fleeing back, then looked down at his palm—where the warmth of her hair still lingered. He buried his face in the pillow, which still held her scent, and smiled silently.
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