a/n: hi again. this story is not completed, i just suck at updating.

He stood at his station and aimlessly scrolled through his phone, looking around every few minutes. He was growing more and more impatient by the second.

The last time he'd seen her was on Friday at work, and she hadn't responded to any of his texts during the weekend. He assumed she was simply busy and he didn't want to be a nuisance, although he missed her terribly now.

He checked the time on his phone and furrowed his eyebrows. She was late, and Ali was never late. After waiting for a couple more minutes, he left his station and searched for his supervisor.

"Marina," he called out once he spotted her in the dairy aisle.

She turned, startled. "Good morning, Sawyer."

"Have you seen Alice?"

  "No, she called in sick and said she probably won't be able to work at all this week. I assumed you knew," Marina informed him as she examined the expiration dates on the milk cartons.

  "Sick? Did she say what with?"

  She shook her head. "No, but she sounded awful. Like her nose was stuffy. I told her not to worry though; you and the other customer service employees can cover for her."

"Not me. I'm sick too," Sawyer suddenly said, and she turned her head to look at him.

She raised an eyebrow at him, unconvinced. "You look fine to me."

"I'm—," he faked a cough, "—not fine. So I'll be going now."

"Sawyer, I'm not falling for that. We don't have enough employees to cover both of your shifts all week," Marina said as she threw an expired milk carton into the cardboard box beside her.

"Hope you figure it out," he replied nonchalantly, walking away, and she sighed.

"Fine, I'll take care of your shift for today! But only for today!" she yelled after him.

"All week!" he shouted as he continued to walk away; she glared at his back.

"You owe me, Sawyer!" Marina growled before returning to her work, grumbling in frustration to herself. "I don't get paid enough for this."

§

  For the first time in his life, he made chicken noodle soup. He had heard that that's what people normally ate when they're sick, so he tried his best to follow an online recipe for it. He had also stopped by the supermarket for a small bouquet, and now he stood before the familiar mahogany door.

  He straightened his back, then knocked against the door. A minute of absolute silence passed. He quickly peered inside through the stained glass window before he knocked again, more firmly this time. Finally, he heard faint footsteps.

  Sawyer waited patiently, and when the footsteps grew closer, he drew in an excited breath. The footsteps ceased when she reached the door, but for some reason, she didn't immediately open it.

  Sawyer blinked, slightly confused. "Alice, it's me. Marina told me you're sick, so I made you some soup."

  After a few seconds, she slowly opened the door enough to peek through it. He showed her the container, which she briefly glanced down at. He could barely see her entire face, and he cocked his head curiously.

  "Why are you hiding, Alice? Are you embarrassed of something?" he asked her, and she didn't respond for a moment.

  "No. Thank you for the soup, I really appreciate it. You should get back to work," Ali said quietly as she quickly took the container from his hands before he could get a good look at her. He noticed something different about her voice—the emptiness of it.

  "It's alright, I took the week off. I can stay with you," he reassured her, stepping closer.

  "That's not really necessary—"

  "Look, I bought you flowers too. They're your grandmother's favorite. Is she awake? I want to show them to her," Sawyer cut her off as he held up the bouquet of colorful peonies. He was craning his neck, attempting to look behind her in search of Nina, when he heard her take a shaky breath.

  Sawyer slowly pushed the door open the rest of the way, and his heart skipped a beat when he finally laid eyes on her. Fresh tears were streaming down her flushed face as she stared at the flowers in his hands.

  "Alice, what's wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?" Sawyer asked hastily, ridden with worry, and she pursed her lips that were now wet with tears.

  "My grandmother..." Ali said, trembling. "She's gone."

  Sawyer fell silent, clueless as to what to do. He couldn't bear seeing the pain on her face; it was probably worse than feeling pain himself. He opened his mouth a couple times, trying to find the right words to console her, but to no avail.

  All of a sudden, she seemed to lose her last shred of strength as her knees buckled. He instantly wrapped his arms around her for support, and she leaned against him rigidly. She roughly cleared her throat before she spoke. "I'm sorry. I don't want to burden you. I'll be okay and back to normal soon, so don't worry about me. Thank you for coming."

  She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't budge. Instead, his grip only tightened. "Sawyer, really. It's okay. I'm going to be okay. You don't have to stay."

  He didn't respond. Keeping one hand around her waist, his other hand reached behind him to close the front door. He placed the bouquet on the small table beside them, then steadily held her with both of his hands again. Their eyes locked, and he regarded her with a tender look as he gently wiped away her tears.

  "I'm not leaving you, Alice," Sawyer whispered as he held her face in his hands, staring into her glistening eyes. "I'll stay for as long as you'll let me."

  Ali's mouth parted open as she was overwhelmed with emotion. She wanted to hold back, she wanted to pretend she was fine, but in his arms, she suddenly felt an alleviating sense of safety. Before she could control herself, a strangled sob escaped from her lips. Her eyes fell shut as she buried her face in his chest, gripping his shirt.

  Sawyer leaned his back against the door and held her tightly. They slowly slid to the floor, and she clung onto him desperately. He closed his eyes as he wordlessly rubbed her back and rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss to her forehead every now and then. She cried to the point of exhaustion, comforted by his warm embrace the entire time.

  As he held her, he heard Nina's words from when they first met echo in his mind.

  "Then, Sawyer, I need you to make me a promise. I need you to take care of Ali for me. She doesn't always know how to ask for help, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need it. Do you understand?"

  Sawyer inhaled deeply and brought her even closer to him. "I promise, Alice. I'm going to take care of you."