The room had grown quiet again.
The soft rhythm of water against cloth had slowed, the bowl resting beside the bed as Leah continued her careful routine—dip, wring, place.
Izana hadn't woken.
Not fully.
But he wasn't still either.
Every so often, there was a faint shift. A slight tightening of his brows. A quiet breath that didn't quite match the last.
Leah noticed every single one.
Her hand rested lightly against his chest as she leaned closer, watching him, listening to his breathing as if it might change at any second.
"…Come on," she murmured softly, more to herself than to him.
The cloth had warmed again.
She lifted it from his forehead, dipping it back into the bowl and wringing it out before placing it back where it belonged.
Cool.
For a moment.
Then warm again.
He was still burning.
Her fingers brushed lightly through his hair, pushing damp strands away from his face.
"You're so stubborn…" she whispered.
As if he could hear her.
As if he would answer.
For a while—
There was nothing.
Just the quiet.
Just the sound of his breathing.
Just her.
Staying.
Then—
A shift.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
But Leah felt it immediately.
Her hand stilled against his chest.
"…Iz?"
No response.
But his lips moved.
Just slightly.
A faint sound followed—so quiet she almost thought she imagined it.
"…Li…"
Leah froze.
Her breath catching.
"Iz…?"
She leaned closer, her hand moving to his cheek instinctively.
"Can you hear me?"
No answer.
His eyes didn't open.
But his expression shifted.
Like something beneath the surface had changed.
His fingers twitched faintly against the sheets.
Then—
"…Don't…"
The word came out broken.
Weak.
Barely formed.
Leah's heart dropped.
"Don't what?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly despite herself.
His brows furrowed deeper.
"…leave…"
The word barely existed.
But it was enough.
More than enough.
Leah went still.
Completely.
Her chest tightened painfully, her grip on the cloth loosening as it slipped slightly from her fingers.
For a second—
She couldn't breathe.
Because this—
This wasn't controlled.
This wasn't guarded.
This wasn't the Izana who chose his words carefully and revealed only what he wanted.
This was something else.
Something real.
Something unfiltered.
Her hand moved without thinking, gently cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered.
Soft.
Steady.
Even as her throat tightened.
"I'm right here, Iz."
He didn't respond.
Not properly.
But something in his expression eased.
Just slightly.
Enough for her to see it.
Enough for her to feel it.
Leah exhaled slowly, leaning her forehead lightly against his for just a moment before pulling back again.
Her hand found the cloth, dipping it back into the water.
She kept going.
Because she had to.
Because he needed her to.
—
Time passed.
She didn't know how much.
Minutes.
Maybe longer.
But eventually—
His breathing shifted.
Less uneven.
Less strained.
And then—
His eyes opened.
Slowly.
Like it took effort.
Like even that was too much.
"…Li…"
His voice was rough.
Dry.
Barely there.
Leah looked up instantly, relief flashing across her face.
"Iz—."
She leaned closer, one hand already moving to support him slightly.
"Hey… hey, don't try to move too much."
His gaze was unfocused at first, blinking slowly as if trying to adjust.
Then it found her.
Stayed there.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Just looked at her.
And something in his expression softened.
"…You stayed."
The words were quiet.
Simple.
But they landed heavily.
Leah didn't hesitate.
"Of course I did."
Her voice was just as soft.
Just as certain.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Something in his gaze shifted again.
Subtle.
But there.
His breathing slowed slightly as he looked at her, like her presence alone grounded him.
Leah reached for the glass of water she had brought earlier, carefully supporting his head as she guided it toward his lips.
"Here. Drink."
Izana didn't argue.
Didn't resist.
But even that was a struggle.
His hand lifted slightly as if to take it himself—but faltered halfway.
Too weak.
Leah adjusted immediately, holding it for him.
"Slowly."
He took a small sip.
Then another.
Before pulling back slightly, his breathing uneven again from the effort alone.
Leah set the glass aside gently.
"That's enough for now."
He didn't respond.
Just watched her.
Quietly.
Too quietly.
Then—
He shifted.
Subtle.
But intentional.
Leah's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…What are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
The words came out weak.
Unconvincing.
And completely in character.
Leah barely had time to react before he tried to push himself up.
His arm braced against the bed, his body lifting slightly—
And then—
It gave out.
The moment dizziness hit, it was obvious.
His body swayed, his balance gone almost instantly.
"Iz—!"
Leah caught him before he could fall, her arms wrapping around him as she pulled him back down onto the bed.
"Are you serious right now?" she snapped, her voice sharp with worry.
His hand tightened weakly against the fabric of her sleeve, his breathing heavier now from the failed effort.
"I'm fine."
Leah stared at him.
Then shook her head.
"No, you're not."
There was no room for argument in her voice.
None at all.
She adjusted him carefully, easing him back against the pillows, making sure he was properly supported before pulling the blanket back up—just enough this time.
"Don't move," she said firmly. "You're not getting up."
Izana didn't argue.
Didn't push back.
For once—
He didn't fight her.
His eyes remained on her, quieter now.
More tired.
But there was something else in them too.
Something softer.
Leah exhaled slowly, brushing her fingers lightly through his hair again.
"You're impossible," she murmured, though the edge was gone now.
Only warmth remained.
Silence settled between them again.
But it wasn't heavy this time.
Not like before.
Just quiet.
Just close.
Izana's gaze lingered on her a moment longer.
Then—
"…Stay."
The word was barely above a whisper.
Leah's hand stilled for just a second.
Then softened.
"I am," she said gently.
"I'm right here."
He didn't ask again.
Didn't need to.
His eyes closed slowly, his breathing evening out just slightly as exhaustion pulled him under again.
And this time—
As he drifted back to sleep—
He didn't do it alone.
Because Leah stayed.
Right there beside him.
Exactly where she said she would be.