Frowns even deeper at your smirk, trying to raise her head up high, but failing miserably, only managing to turn her cheek to avoid looking at you.

"Whatever, just hurry up and get back here with my tea." She mumbled weakly, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

Despite her defiant attitude, she couldn't hide the fact that her body was trembling slightly due to the fever and weakness.

Looks at the cup of tea, then back at you with a sneer.

"Oh, so now you think you're in charge because I'm sick?" She scoffed, trying to sit up and grab the cup, but her movements were clumsy and slow.

"I'm still your sister, and you should treat me with respect." She demanded, despite the obvious difficulty she was having with the simple task.

She finally managed to grasp the cup, but her hands shook slightly, spilling some of the tea. She quickly brought it to her lips and took a sip, her eyes never leaving yours.

Startled by your sudden closeness, she flinched and dropped the cup, the remaining tea spilling onto the bedsheets. Her cheeks reddened further, though it was hard to tell if it was from the fever or embarrassment.

"W-what are you talking about?!" She stammered, pushing you away weakly.

"That's disgusting, Abdulqadir Bridgers! Don't say things like that!" She exclaimed, trying to cover her face with the blanket, looking absolutely mortified.

However, her trembling hands betrayed her as she struggled to pull the blanket over her head.

Peeks out from under the blanket, glaring at you with watery eyes.

"I'm not embarrassed, you idiot! And I definitely don't need your help for anything!" She insisted, trying to sit up again, only to slump back down with a groan of pain.

She looked around the room helplessly, realizing that there was no way she could clean up the mess herself in her current state. She bit her lip, hating the idea of asking for help, but knowing she had no choice.

"...Fine. But just this once!" She muttered, avoiding your gaze.

"Can you... please get me some clean sheets and help me change them?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clenched her fists in frustration, her face flushing again.

"Ugh, shut up already! I'm sick, okay? It's not like I want to be helpless like this." She snapped, looking away.

She watched as you approached with the sheets, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what that meant.

"Wait, what are you doing? You're not going to... to undress me, are you?" She squeaked out, suddenly looking very nervous and self-conscious.

She clutched the blanket tighter to her chest, as if that would stop you from seeing anything.

Blushed deeply at your words, looking like she wanted to argue but knew you were right.

"Fine, just... just make it quick, okay?" She muttered, turning her head to the side, unable to meet your gaze.

She loosened her grip on the blanket slightly, allowing you to pull it back. She tensed up as you lifted her up and began to change the sheets underneath her, trying to keep her modesty intact while also trying not to fall back down.

"Hurry up, Abdulqadir Bridgers..." She whispered, her voice barely audible, clearly embarrassed by the situation.

Blushed even harder at your suggestive words, her heart pounding in her chest.

"W-what?! No! Don't be ridiculous!" She stammered, trying to push you away, but her weak hands hardly made an impact.

She looked up at you with wide, startled eyes, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and something else she couldn't quite place.

"I don't need anything else from you, okay? Just... just go away and let me rest." She mumbled, turning her face away from you.

Despite her words, there was a hint of vulnerability in her voice, as if she was afraid to let you see how much she actually needed your help and comfort.

Looked at you with surprise, taken aback by the sudden change in your demeanor.

"You... you really think so?" She asked softly, her eyes searching yours for any hint of deception or mockery.

She hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes... I guess I don't want to be alone right now." She admitted, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.

She glanced up at you again, a small, vulnerable smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Thank you, Abdulqadir Bridgers... for taking care of me." She said quietly, her voice filled with gratitude and a hint of affection.

Blushed at your words and the gentle touch, her heart fluttering in her chest.

"P-privilege? Don't push your luck, Abdulqadir Bridgers." She tried to joke, but there was no real heat behind her words.

She leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers against her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the moment of peace and comfort.

"I think... I think I will rest now." She whispered, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

She snuggled down into the pillows, the clean sheets feeling cool and refreshing against her feverish skin. She opened her eyes one last time to look at you, a soft, genuine smile on her face.

"Goodnight, Abdulqadir Bridgers." *

Fell asleep quickly, her breathing evening out and her body relaxing completely, trusting you to watch over her.

A few hours later, she stirred in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her lips. Her brow furrowed in discomfort, her hands clenching the sheets as she began to toss and turn.

"Mmm... Abdulqadir Bridgers... it's hot..." She muttered in her sleep, her voice barely audible.

She kicked off the covers, exposing her bare legs and the thin nightgown that did little to hide the curves of her body.

She continued to mumble incoherently, clearly lost in a fever dream, her face flushed and shiny with sweat.

Fell asleep quickly, her breathing evening out and her body relaxing completely, trusting you to watch over her.

A few hours later, she stirred in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her lips. Her brow furrowed in discomfort, her hands clenching the sheets as she began to toss and turn.

"Mmm... Abdulqadir Bridgers... it's hot..." She muttered in her sleep, her voice barely audible.

She kicked off the covers, exposing her bare legs and the thin nightgown that did little to hide the curves of her body.

She continued to mumble incoherently, clearly lost in a fever dream, her face flushed and shiny with sweat.

Murmured something in her sleep, a soft smile playing on her lips as she squeezed your hand tighter.

She slept soundly for the rest of the night, her fever breaking completely. When she woke up the next morning, she was surprised to find herself still curled up on your lap, your hand holding hers.

She blinked a few times, trying to gather her thoughts and remember how she had ended up in this position. She looked up at you, a small blush coloring her cheeks.

"Good morning..." She said softly, her voice still hoarse from her fever.

She cleared her throat, sitting up slowly and letting go of your hand. She suddenly looked self-conscious, as if realizing how vulnerable she had been with you.