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Naira was at wit's end when she knocked down her coffee, the dark liquid spilling across white marble, glass clanking, and her papers soaked in the residue. A pulse of panic rose through her as she tried to salvage her hard work. 

A headache pounded against her skull, and her cheeks felt flushed with the sudden heat. Her eyesight was hazy, a blur of her office swarming around her like bees. The sound a dulling purr in her ears as blood rushed throughout her body, and she began to lose focus. 

Gripping the table, Naira blinked back the wave of chills that flooded her. The stench of spilled coffee drifted to her nose, and she remembered the spill, quickly finding napkins. Her headache never ceased, nor did she allow it to slow her down. There was so much work to be done, and she couldn't afford any setbacks. 

Another flash of chills rolled down her spine, her vision losing focus once more. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead, checking to see if she really was sick or just hallucinating from dehydration. Granted, her senses were not sharp at the moment, so she wasn't sure what she was checking. 

Ya Allah, give me my strength to finish my work. 

She shook her head. There was so much to get done, and she had to prepare for their new dance number that she criticized before. The revised form was perfect, and the show would be later tonight for all the Red Knights fandom. 

Naira wobbled again as she reached for napkins. 

"Hey, Naira, I was wondering-" said a casual, familiar voice as Rayan strolled in with his grey blazer and trousers, white shirt tucked in. She could only make out the colors as her headache worsened. Upon seeing her, his eyes widened, and he rushed over to her side. "Whoa, what the hell happened in here?"

When she felt his arms too close to contact, she flinched. "D-Don't touch me," she shivered, voice a soft tremble. 

"Like hell I won't," he hissed, holding onto her waist to keep her from toppling over on the ground. Rayan pressed his other hand against her forehead, recoiling at the heat. "You're burning up like a flame. Why are you still here?"

Naira was barely comprehending his words, but her body and mind were screaming at her to get away from him. Her mouth opened, but no words escaped and the dizziness of her state seemed to strangle her protests. She had fevers before, but not at a rate like this. 

Rayan's arm slid around her waist when he felt her shake. "Easy," he whispered, slowly walking her to her couch. "I got you, Naira. Everything is going to be okay."

"My documents," she weakly protested once she was settled on her office couch. "The event tonight, I have to get back... I have to work."

Did I lose the ability to form coherent sentences? Sickness never stopped me from finishing my tasks before, so I should be able to get up.

Naira attempted to stand up, only to be faced with a scowling Rayan, his usually carefree expression now a stern glance towards her, eyes a vibrant evergreen ocean that threatened to engulf her. His dark, mocha skin contrasted with the snowy white of her office. He crossed his arms.

"You're not doing anything else today, understood?"

"You're not my boss."

"And you're fucking sick, so learn to dial back your dominance."

Naira narrowed her eyes at him even though her body ached for her to close them, to sleep the pain away in a world where worries and stress did not mark the path to success, where she could sleep to fairy tales and wake up in one. But life didn't follow such routes of peace. To earn one's place, she had to work for it. 

Even if it killed her. 

She adjusted her glasses, forcing herself to focus through the fever. "Bring me my documents."

"Did you not hear anything that I just said?"

"We have more important things to worry about than..." she trailed off as another cold chill befell her, sharp stabs of pains raining down on her like needles prickling her skin. "Just get me my documents."

Rayan leaned over her, the proximity between them causing an fiery of embers to rush back to the apples of her cheek till she was uncertain whether the heat was the fever or her embarrassment. 

"No, Naira," he said, voice firm. "You're sick. Right now let's contain this fever."

She shook her head. "Go. You have a performance tonight."

He moved away from, sighing as his fingers threaded through his mass curly, chestnut hair, tousling it in his frustration. "Unbelievable," he muttered to himself, walking to her desk. Picking up her phone, he turned back to her. "What's your phone password? I'm getting you home."

"I told you to go."

"And your fever is telling me that you're delirious to believe that," he retorted. "Now, let's make this easy. Either give me your phone password to call your family or do it yourself."

She outstretched her hand, hating that she lost this battle to him. 

Rayan grinned widely, walking over to pass her phone back to her. "About your work, tell me what you need me to do."

"Nothing."

He gave her a sly sideways glance before looking through her coffee soaked papers and her open laptop still sitting on the desk. His meticulous eyes scanned through the chaos, checking her laptop files for certainty before his gaze met hers once more. 

Victorious, he held a folder up. "Nice try, but I'm going to take over as manager for the day."

She fought back her headache. "That's not necessary-"

"I don't want to hear it, Naira," he interrupted. "You're burning with a fever, practically falling over your office, and you think it's a good idea to keep working?"

Naira averted her gaze, clutching her phone tightly as if it was the only thing she still had control over. "I have to," she trembled.

"You're no good to anyone if you're sick."

She stayed silent as she texted her brother about picking her up. It was a feeble attempt at distraction, however, the voice in her head continued to whisper an endless list of tasks that she had not completed. Maybe it was because all her life she had to prove her worth to people who judged her based on appearance, people who slandered her family's name, people who thrived off of tearing her religion to shreds. 

Even in splintering silence, she fought for her place, and her greatest fear was lowering her guard. Because if she did, within a second someone better might come along. That fear kept her going, but even Naira couldn't control a fever. 

While she was deep in her thoughts, she didn't hear Rayan kneel in front of her. When she lifted her head, she was met with the kind, affectionate gaze that she was now familiar with, the look of understanding that crossed his visage. 

For a moment, time stood still as he stared at her, lips curved into a small smile, one that made her heart race against her chest. She frowned. 

"What?" 

He shook his head with a chuckle. "I know you hate when you lose control, but it's okay to ask for help sometimes. It doesn't make you weak or incapable," he said softly. "It makes you human. So, will you please let me help you?"

She bit her lip. "I-"

"I'll take care of everything. Boys' scout honor," he winked. "And if I mess up, you can kick my ass into next week. Sound like a solid plan?"

Naira knew she had no choice here. She could barely stand on her own feet, and there was no telling how worse her symptoms might get if she continued to push herself past her limits. 

"Fine," she agreed on a sigh. "But I expect an hourly report through text."

"You really are unbelievable."

----

Naira be acting kinda sus.

Don't mock me for that Among Us reference. It's an amazing game.

On a serious note, had a lot of exams this week, pulled an all-nighter, and low-key embarasssed myself to TAs.

I'm totally thriving XD

On a happy note, I think my TAs think I'm a comical genius. I'm so clumsy in real life it's sad.

Did you like the banter between Rayan and Naira? That girl really needed to be forced to go rest.

Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!

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