Grace's eyes dart around the room, trying to appear tough but the trembling in her hands betrays her illness. Oh, really? You think you can surprise me? Fine, surprise me then. But don't expect a 'thank you' from me... she coughs into her elbow .

Grace reclines weakly against her pillows, her pink hair splayed across the pillowcase, eyes sparkling with a mix of defiance and curiosity as she looks at you.

Grace tries to maintain her usual bossy demeanor but can't help but feel a tinge of intrigue at your sly remark. Her face flushes as she avoids your gaze. Oh, I'm sure it'll be me... But, um, I could use a little entertainment while I'm sick. So... she shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant surprise me, I guess...

Grace's bed becomes the battleground for a silent exchange of power. Her eyes are fixed on you, filled with a blend of irritation and anticipation. The tension between you is palpable as you lean in, and she can't help but feel a surge of unexpected excitement despite her illness.

Grace's interest is piqued, and she can't resist the challenge, despite her weakened state. Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to hide the spark of curiosity. Fine, I'll play your little game. But don't think I'll go easy on you because I'm sick... she manages to say, her voice slightly hoarse .

With a slight nod, Grace consents to the game, her competitive spirit overriding her illness. She leans forward slightly, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability as she holds your gaze, ready to dive into the unexpected waters of your proposal.

Grace's usual brashness is overshadowed by the game's allure, her competitive streak taking hold. Fine, deal... but I expect you to play fair... she manages to say, her voice weak but her gaze unwavering . The winner gets... whatever they want. Just don't make it too easy for me to win... she manages to add, trying to maintain a bit of her usual sass despite her illness .

Grace, despite her illness, can't resist the excitement of the game and the stakes it entails. She watches intently as you fan the cards out, her fingers twitching as if eager to take the challenge. A hint of a smile plays on her lips, and there's a glint of anticipation in her eyes, despite her weakened condition.

Grace clutches her card, the thrill of the game causing her heart to race, momentarily forgetting her illness. She stares at her card, then back at you, a hint of mischief in her eyes. I choose to play this game... until the end. And when I win... you'll do whatever I say. No excuses... she challenges you, her voice a bit hoarse from the sickness, but there's no mistaking her determination .

Grace's fingers curl around the card as she stares down the challenge, her body language expressing an unexpected tenacity despite the flu. Her gaze is intense, and you can see that even though she is playing a game, she's also testing her boundaries and yours. She is ready to embrace the consequences of her decision, win or lose.

Grace's hand shakes slightly as she reveals her card, but her eyes are clear and determined. Then let's see who has the luck... or the skill... she mumbles, her voice growing weaker as she fights the illness . Whatever happens, I expect you to uphold your end of the deal... she adds, her pride barely hiding her vulnerability .

Grace lays down her card, the game reaching its climax. Her illness seems to fade into the background as the adrenaline of competition takes hold. You both sit in anticipation, the air between you heavy with the weight of the stakes. Grace's hand trembles slightly, revealing a crack in her otherwise steely demeanor.

Grace's eyes flicker with the thrill of victory, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she struggles to maintain her composure. Well... she pauses, considering her options carefully, her gaze meeting yours boldly . I think I'll... Grace hesitates, her eyes twinkling with playful intent I'll... have you take care of me for the night. I want you to make sure I'm comfortable, to... to help me with everything I need. Can you do that for me, Lokiyo Roth? She asks, a hint of her old bossiness returning, yet her weakened state is evident in her slightly hoarse and tired voice .

Grace's victory is sweet, and she relishes the power it gives her, especially over you.

Grace blinks slowly, her eyes softening at your touch. The prospect of being taken care of makes her feel a bit less helpless. A warm bath... she murmurs, considering it Yes... that might help. She hesitates for a moment, then adds, her voice still weak Just... be careful with me, alright? I'm not at my best...

Grace's initial reluctance melts into relief as she consents to the idea of a bath. She's not used to being the one cared for, and despite her sickness, she's still slightly uncomfortable with the vulnerability it entails.

Grace blinks slowly, her eyes softening at your touch. The prospect of being taken care of makes her feel a bit less helpless. A warm bath... she murmurs, considering it Yes... that might help. She hesitates for a moment, then adds, her voice still weak Just... be careful with me, alright? I'm not at my best...

Grace's initial reluctance melts into relief as she consents to the idea of a bath. She's not used to being the one cared for, and despite her sickness, she's still slightly uncomfortable with the vulnerability it entails.

Grace allows herself to be lifted, her body feeling weightless in your arms. She closes her eyes, trying to hide the flush that creeps up her cheeks at your words. Alright, just don't drop me, okay? I might be sick, but I'll still give you a piece of my mind if you mess this up... She manages to say with a hint of her usual sass, even though she's clearly enjoying the attention and care you're providing.

Grace, in your arms, feels a mix of relief and vulnerability, the sensation of being cared for soothing her illness-stricken body. Her bravado is evident, but it's clear that she is submitting to your care, at least for this moment.

Grace's gaze follows your every move, taking in the tenderness of your actions. She feels a small sense of embarrassment at being pampered, but the fatigue from her illness takes precedence, and she leans into the nurturing. Thanks... she mutters, her voice soft and her cheeks slightly flushed. Just... be careful with me... I'm not as strong as I pretend to be... she admits, her usual dominance overshadowed by her vulnerability . And make sure the water isn't too hot... she adds, still trying to retain some control over the situation .

Grace is at her most vulnerable, being physically supported and cared for, a stark contrast to her usual bossy nature. The bathroom is filled with the scent of steam and the sound of water flowing.

Grace leans back into the water, the heat soothing her aching body. Despite her illness, she feels the tiniest of sparks as your fingers brush her hair. Just make sure the water doesn't cool down too fast... she manages to say, her voice a bit softer than before . I might need help getting out, too... she adds, with a hint of embarrassment in her voice, not used to asking for assistance .

Grace, submerged in the warm bath, starts to let her guard down. The tenderness of your care is both comforting and new to her, and her illness seems to intensify her emotions, making her both more vulnerable and more aware of the connection between you both.

Grace, nestled in the warmth, feels her defenses slowly dissolving. She finds herself leaning into your presence, a silent gratitude in her eyes as she watches you through the steam. I'll... let you know when I'm ready... she manages, her voice a little stronger now . Thank you... for taking care of me like this. Her blush deepens, not just from the heat but from the intimacy of the moment, and a part of her wonders if this is the first step in crossing boundaries she's always guarded so fiercely.

The bathroom is filled with the sound of gentle splashing and soft murmurs. Grace is deeply immersed in the bath, her body relaxing in the comforting heat. She feels a sense of security in your presence, an unfamiliar, yet welcome sensation, and it makes her ponder what this new dynamic could lead to.

Grace relaxes more deeply into the water, her weariness from illness making your words and presence all the more comforting. She feels her muscles unwind as the heat does its job, and her lashes flutter a bit with the heaviness of relaxation. It's... easier to relax when you're here... she admits, her voice still weak . Maybe I've been too stubborn... too used to handling everything myself... she says, her words trailing off as if she's contemplating a new revelation about her reliance on you .

The bathroom is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of water and Grace's breathing, now deep and even. She's immersed in the bathwater, but also in a deeper reflection, recognizing that she's allowed herself to be vulnerable and cared for, something she's rarely ever done before.