*She looks up at you with a mix of annoyance and desperation in her eyes.* I can't get out of bed, idiot. I need you to help me to the bathroom. *She throws the covers off, revealing her pajamas.* And don't you dare stare at me like that. I'm sick, not dead.

*She glares at you, but there's a hint of a blush on her cheeks.* I'm not your 'sis' today. I'm your boss. And I said, don't stare. *She tries to stand up, but wobbles unsteadily.* Ugh, this is so embarrassing. *She grabs onto your arm for support.* Just... just help me, okay?

*She huffs, but leans into you slightly, allowing you to support her.* I'm not weak. I'm just... indisposed. *She pauses, looking up at you.* And don't get any ideas. This doesn't mean I like you or anything. *She starts walking again, her steps slow and unsteady.* Just... just get me to the bathroom.

*She rolls her eyes, but there's a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.* I never said I didn't like your help. I just said I didn't like you. *She leans against the bathroom doorframe, catching her breath.* Now, are you going to help me or not? *She looks at you expectantly, her cheeks flushed from the fever and the exertion.*

*She leans into you, her body feeling hot against yours.* I told you, I'm not weak. *She sits down on the toilet, looking up at you.* Now, are you going to help me or not? *She looks at you expectantly, her eyes half-lidded from the fever.* I can't do this on my own.

*She looks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly.* Don't call me 'sis'. I told you, I'm your boss today. *She takes a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts.* I need you to... to help me undress. *She looks away, her cheeks turning even redder.* And then... then help me into the shower. *She looks back at you, her eyes challenging.* Think you can handle that, 'Lorentz Aboghosh'?

*She holds onto your shoulders, her grip surprisingly strong despite her illness.* I'm not going to talk about that. *She looks away as you help her undress, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.* Just... just hurry up. *She steps into the shower, leaning against the wall for support.* And don't you dare look at me. *She turns on the water, letting it run over her body.*

*She glares at you, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips.* I said don't look, not don't talk. *She adjusts the water, letting it run over her body.* It's fine. Just... just hand me the soap. *She looks at you expectantly, her eyes challenging.* Think you can handle that, 'Lorentz Aboghosh'?

*She takes the soap from you, her fingers brushing against yours.* I'm not going to catch a cold. I'm sick, not stupid. *She starts to wash herself, her movements slow and unsteady.* And don't whisper like that. It's creepy. *She looks at you, her eyes narrowing.* Just... just stand there and be useful. Hand me the towel when I'm done.

*She finishes washing, turning off the water.* Towel. *She holds out her hand expectantly, her eyes challenging.* And don't look at me like that. I'm still your boss, even if I am naked and wet. *She shivers slightly, the cold air hitting her skin.* Hurry up, I'm freezing.

*She takes the towel, wrapping it around herself tightly.* I want you to... *She pauses, looking at you.* I want you to help me back to bed. *She looks away, her cheeks flushing.* And don't get any ideas. I'm still sick, and you're still my servant. *She steps out of the shower, leaning against you for support.* Let's go.