Sophia woke to the sound of her alarm and immediately regretted it.
Her head pounded. Her throat burned. Every muscle in her body ached.
She reached out blindly, silencing the alarm, then lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.
You need to get up.
She pushed herself upright slowly, the room tilting slightly.
Her feet hit the cold floor.
She stood.
The world swayed.
Sophia pressed a hand to the wall, steadying herself, her breathing shallow.
You're fine. Just get ready.
She moved through her morning routine like she was underwater shower, clothes, hair.
But everything took twice as long.
Her hands fumbled with buttons. Her vision blurred at the edges.
By the time she reached the kitchen, she was exhausted.
She stared at the coffee maker, trying to remember how it worked.
Water. Coffee grounds. Button.
Simple.
But her hands were shaking.
She managed to fill the carafe, pour the water, add the grounds.
Then pressed the button.
The machine hummed to life.
Sophia leaned against the counter, closing her eyes.
Just a few more minutes. Then you can go to work.
But even as she thought it, she knew.
She couldn't.
Not today.
She grabbed her phone, pulling up her work email.
Her fingers moved slowly over the keyboard.
Subject: Sick Leave – Dr. Whitmore
I need to take a sick day. Will be available via email if urgent. Apologies for the inconvenience.
She hit send before she could overthink it.
Then set the phone down.
The coffee maker beeped.
Sophia poured herself a cup, her hands unsteady, some of it spilling onto the counter.
She didn't bother cleaning it.
Just carried the mug to the couch and sank down.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it.
Ethan.
Sophia almost didn't answer.
But something made her pick it up.
"Ethan what do you?" Her voice came out rough, hoarse.
"Hey, sis. Just wanted to check—" Ethan stopped. "Wait. You sound terrible."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You sound like you've been gargling gravel."
Sophia closed her eyes. "I'm just a little under the weather."
"A little? Sophia, you sound like death." There was a pause. "Hold on. Switch to video."
"Ethan—"
"Do it."
Sophia sighed, pulling the phone away from her ear and switching to video call.
Ethan's face appeared on the screen, his expression shifting immediately from teasing to concerned.
"Jesus, Soph. You look awful."
"Thanks."
"I'm serious. Have you eaten? Taken medicine?"
"I'll be fine."
"That's not an answer." Ethan leaned closer to his camera. "You're pale. You're sweating. When's the last time you slept?"
Sophia didn't respond.
Ethan sighed. "You need someone there. Do you want me to come over?"
"No. You're busy."
"I can move things around—"
"Ethan, I'm fine. I just need rest."
Ethan studied her for a long moment. Then his expression shifted—thoughtful, calculating.
"Okay," he said slowly. "But I'm sending someone to check on you."
Sophia frowned. "Who?"
"Just... someone. Don't argue. I'll text you."
"Ethan—"
But he'd already hung up.
Sophia stared at the phone, confused.
Then set it down and closed her eyes.
Just rest. Just for a little while.
Jane sat in her morning lecture, pen in hand, notebook open.
But she wasn't taking notes.
She was staring at her phone.
Still no response from Sophia.
It had been over twenty-four hours now.
Jane's chest felt tight.
Maybe I should just let it go.
Maybe she doesn't want to talk.
Maybe I was wrong about everything.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it.
Ethan.
Jane frowned, unlocking the screen.
"Sophia's sick. She's at her apartment. She won't admit it, but she needs someone. Can you go?"
Jane's heart stopped.
She typed back quickly: "Is she okay?"
"She will be. But she needs you. Trust me."
Another message: "I'm sending you her address if you don't know."
Jane stared at the screen as the address came through.
Then she stood, grabbing her bag.
The professor looked up. "Ms.—"
"I'm sorry. Emergency." Jane was already moving toward the door.
She didn't wait for a response.
Jane stood outside Sophia's apartment, her heart pounding.
She'd taken the bus, then run the last three blocks.
Now she was here.
And she had no idea what to say.
She raised her hand.
Knocked.
Nothing.
She knocked again, harder this time.
"Sophia? It's—"
The door opened.
Sophia stood there, wrapped in a soft grey sweater, her hair down and slightly messy, her face pale.
"What are you doing here, Ethan—"
She stopped.
Her eyes widened.
"Jane?"
Jane's breath caught.
Sophia looked exhausted. Fragile. Beautiful.
And for a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Jane stepped forward.
And wrapped her arms around Sophia.
Tight.
Desperate.
"I missed you," Jane whispered, her voice breaking. "I missed you so much."
Sophia stood frozen for a heartbeat.
Then her arms came up, wrapping around Jane, pulling her closer.
"Jane," she breathed.
They stood there in the doorway, holding each other, the world falling away.
When they finally pulled back, Jane's eyes were wet, her hands still gripping Sophia's sweater.
"I thought—" Sophia's voice was hoarse. "I thought you and Ethan were—"
Jane didn't let her finish.
She leaned in, closing the distance between them.
And kissed her.
Soft. Sweet. Desperate.
Sophia froze.
Then melted.
Her hands came up, cupping Jane's face, pulling her closer.
The kiss deepened—slow, tender, full of everything they'd been too afraid to say.
Jane's fingers tangled in Sophia's hair.
Sophia's arms wrapped around her waist.
They kissed like they were trying to make up for lost time.
Like they were afraid to let go.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless.
Sophia's forehead rested against Jane's, her eyes still closed.
"Jane—"
"It was fake," Jane whispered. "With Ethan. All of it. He was just trying to make you jealous. To make you admit how you felt."
Sophia pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Jane's. "What?"
"He knew. About me. How I felt about you." Jane's voice trembled. "And he knew you felt the same. So he... he pushed. To make you realize it."
Sophia stared at her, processing. "So you and him—"
"There's nothing between us. There never was." Jane's hands cupped Sophia's face now. "It's you. It's always been you."
Sophia's breath hitched.
"I tried to tell you," Jane continued, her voice breaking. "I texted you. I waited. But you didn't respond, and I thought—I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe you didn't—"
"I didn't know what to say." Sophia's voice was barely above a whisper. "I've been terrified, Jane. Terrified of this. Of what I feel."
"What do you feel?"
Sophia's eyes glistened. "Everything. I feel everything when I'm with you. And it scares me because I've never—" She stopped, her voice catching. "I've never felt this way about anyone."
Jane's heart swelled.
"I stood outside your hostel in the rain," Sophia confessed, her voice raw. "I wanted to come up. I wanted to tell you. But I couldn't. I was too afraid you'd realize I'm not—that I'm not enough."
"Sophia." Jane's thumbs brushed away the tears sliding down Sophia's cheeks. "You're everything."
Sophia let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be... vulnerable. How to let someone in."
"Then let me teach you." Jane's smile was soft, trembling. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Sophia's lips curved into the smallest smile. "Together? You and me?"
"Together."
Sophia pulled Jane close again, resting her forehead against hers.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "For not responding. I have been a coward."
"You're not a coward. You're scared. There's a difference."
"I don't want to be scared anymore."
"Then don't be." Jane's voice was gentle. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
Sophia's arms tightened around her.
And for the first time in days maybe weeks she felt like she could breathe.
"I like you," Sophia said softly. "So much it terrifies me."
Jane smiled. "I like you too. So much it keeps me awake at every night."
Sophia laughed—soft, genuine, full of relief.
Then she kissed Jane again.
Slower this time. Sweeter.
A promise.
When they pulled apart, Sophia took Jane's hand, leading her inside.
The door closed softly behind them.
And for the first time, neither of them was pretending.
They sat on the couch together, Jane curled against Sophia's side, Sophia's arm wrapped around her.
"You're burning up," Jane murmured, pressing her hand to Sophia's forehead.
"I know."
"Have you taken anything?"
"Not yet."
Jane stood. "Where's your medicine?"
"Bathroom cabinet."
Jane disappeared, returning a moment later with fever reducers and a glass of water.
She handed them to Sophia. "Take these."
Sophia obeyed, swallowing the pills.
Jane sat back down beside her. "When's the last time you ate?"
"I....."
Jane's expression softened. "I'm making you food."
"Jane, you don't have to—"
"I want to." Jane stood again, moving toward the kitchen. "Just rest. I'll take care of you."
Sophia watched her go, her chest warm.
I'll take care of you.
No one had said that to her in a long time.
Jane moved around the kitchen, opening cabinets, finding ingredients.
Sophia closed her eyes, listening to the soft sounds—the clink of dishes, the hum of the stove.
It felt... peaceful.
Safe.
A few minutes later, Jane returned with a bowl of soup and crackers.
"It's not fancy," she said, sitting beside Sophia. "But it'll help."
Sophia took the bowl, her hands steadier now. "Thank you."
Jane smiled. "You're welcome."
They sat in comfortable silence, Sophia eating slowly, Jane watching her with quiet concern.
When Sophia finished, Jane took the bowl and set it aside.
Then curled back into Sophia's side.
Sophia's arm came around her automatically.
"This is nice," Jane whispered.
"Yeah," Sophia agreed softly. "It is."
Jane smiled against her shoulder.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, both of them felt like they were exactly where they were supposed to be.