Chapter 103: Max Has a Fever
Caroline's expression changed instantly.
"No." She spoke almost immediately, fast and decisive. "You two are going back to our apartment. Right now."
"I'm fine," Max insisted stubbornly.
"Shut up." Caroline turned to Ethan. "Ethan, please—take care of her."
Ethan nodded.
Max tried to argue—but the moment she opened her mouth, a wave of dizziness hit, forcing her back.
"…Fine."
She gave in reluctantly. "But this is nothing serious."
"I haven't been sick in five or six years."
As Ethan helped support her, he asked casually,
"Did that start after you met me?"
Max paused, actually thinking about it for two seconds.
"…Wait. Damn. That might actually be true."
—
Max and Caroline's apartment.
Ethan settled Max onto the bed and pulled the blanket up over her.
He took out a thermometer.
38.9°C.
Wow. That's edging into high fever.
Hot water. Pillow adjusted. Curtains drawn.
He moved through everything quietly, methodically.
Max leaned against the headboard, watching him move around. Her voice softened without her realizing it.
"You know… the way you are right now—"
Ethan looked up. "What?"
"Perfect for tricking women." She paused, then added, "Especially women with a fever and zero judgment."
Ethan smiled helplessly. "I guess I've been neglecting you a bit lately."
Max blinked.
"…Wait. Am I hallucinating from the fever?"
"Did you just… apologize?"
"As a doctor," Ethan said, "if someone close to me gets sick, it means I've been slacking."
He finished speaking, gently pressing her back down and tucking the blanket around her shoulders.
"Get some sleep first."
Max looked at him, that familiar Max-style smirk forming.
"When my fever goes down," she said, "wanna try something?"
"…Or we could try now. Limited-time offer—fever edition."
Ethan reached over and dimmed the lights.
"After you recover."
"Tch." Max muttered, "Opportunity knocks and you just ignore it… don't regret it later…"
She was clearly getting fuzzy.
Then suddenly her eyes widened as she stared at him.
"So… are you gonna spray the medicine into my mouth?"
Ethan: "…What?"
What kind of wild line is that?
"Where's the medicine?" Max frowned when he didn't play along.
"No medication needed."
"What?!" she protested. "I'm basically on fire and you're not giving me anything? This is medical abuse!"
Ethan paused.
…Why does sick Max feel… kind of clingy?
And weirdly adorable.
"Relax," he said. "This temperature is still within what your body can handle."
Max snorted. "So this is the doctor version of 'just tough it out'?"
"That's not entirely wrong," Ethan smiled. "Fever isn't always a bad thing. It's your body's defense mechanism—kind of a cleanup process."
"As long as it doesn't get too high, it's actually doing work for you—resetting things."
"But I feel awful," Max muttered, squirming under the blanket.
"Stay still," Ethan said.
"Hold on a bit. I'll help bring the temperature down. Then you sleep—and by tomorrow, you'll be fine."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"If I wake up tomorrow and I'm not better, I'm biting you to death."
"And if you are better?"
"Still biting you to death."
"…Got it."
Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Relax. You're too tense."
"Of course," Max muttered. "I survive on hatred, poverty, and caffeine."
Ethan sat by the bed, rubbing his hands together to warm them.
"I'll massage you a bit. It'll help you relax—and bring the fever down."
Max immediately became alert.
"…Is that legal?"
Ethan replied, "Of course. I've done this for you before, haven't I?"
"Do you charge for it?"
"It's free."
Max narrowed her eyes. "That makes it even more suspicious."
Ethan didn't respond.
His hands settled on her shoulders and neck—gentle at first, then gradually applying more pressure.
As his movements found a steady rhythm—
subtle pulses of healing flowed from his palms, quietly sinking into her body.
The room fell silent.
Bit by bit, the tension deep inside her began to loosen.
Max's back softened.
Her whole body seemed to sink.
"…You know," she murmured after a while, eyes closed, a faint smile forming,
"are you doing this on purpose?"
"Doing what?"
"Making me feel this good," she said. "So I lose my ability to resist… and you can take advantage of me."
Ethan didn't stop. "If you're worried about that, I can stop."
"Don't!"
A few minutes later, Ethan withdrew his hands.
"Alright."
Max's eyes snapped open. "That's it?"
"You need to rest."
"What I need is…" she paused, thinking, "…symmetry."
"…What?"
"You didn't spend the same amount of time on both sides."
She spoke with complete seriousness.
"Two minutes on the left. Two and a half on the right. Now the other side feels neglected."
Ethan just looked at her.
"This is about equality," she added.
He chuckled softly, said nothing, and placed his hands back on her.
This time—
Max didn't say a word.
She simply lay there, eyes closed, the tension melting from her expression.
When Ethan finally stopped again, a long moment passed before she spoke.
"…There's still one place you didn't press enough."
"Where?"
"The place you know best."
Ethan didn't take the bait.
He just adjusted the blanket around her.
"Sleep."
Max asked quietly, "Will you stay?"
"…Yeah."
She seemed satisfied.
Her eyes closed—and soon, she drifted into a deep sleep.
—
The next morning.
Ethan jolted awake.
Something was… off.
A sensation that made zero medical sense—
someone was kissing him.
"Morning," Max said, lifting her head.
She looked completely fine. No trace of last night's fever.
"You're better?" Ethan asked.
"Fully restored." She grinned, a dangerous, playful edge in her smile. "So… time to collect."
"Doctor, did I ever tell you I have a very good memory?"
Ethan was still half-asleep.
Usually, when he woke up, Max was already gone. This was new.
"What do you remember?"
Max smirked.
"I remember you taking advantage of me last night."
"That was a massage."
"You touched me while I was sick," she said confidently. "Even though I feel ridiculously good now."
Before Ethan could reply—
she leaned in closer.
"I have a reasonable suspicion," she whispered,
"that you're a fraud doctor."
Ethan met her gaze. "And what are you going to do about it?"
"Make you keep your promise."
"What promise?"
"The one you made last night—after I got better…"
Her tone was light, almost teasing.
Sunlight streamed in through the window.
The air in the room seemed to shimmer under the morning glow.