: The Feeling You Can't Shake
Warm sunlight spilled into the room through half-open curtains. The faint hum of birdsong danced in the morning air.
Dee groaned softly, her eyes fluttering open.
She was home.
Her room. Her blankets. Her ceiling fan doing its lazy spin.
She sat up—and instantly regretted it.
"Ugh... did someone replace my bones with bricks?"
A rustle came from beside her bed.
Rayyan.
Curled up in an armchair. Jacket on. Head lolling to the side, fast asleep. His hair was a mess, and he had an empty water bottle in his hand.
Dee blinked, heart tugging.
He'd stayed.
Just then, he stirred.
"Hmm...? Dee?" His eyes opened groggily. Then shot fully awake. "You're awake!"
She gave him a weak smile. "Were you… guarding me like a fever knight?"
He rubbed his face. "You had a high fever all night. I wasn't gonna leave you alone."
"Aww," she teased, voice still scratchy, "You do like me."
He leaned closer, gently feeling her forehead. "I like you alive. That's all."
She rolled her eyes, smirking. "You just like the part where I pass out and don't argue."
He grinned. "Exactly. Quiet Dee is my favorite Dee."
She threw a pillow at him.
Rayyan ducked and laughed.
They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in quiet comfort. He brought her toast. She complained about the lack of love . He made her tea. She added sugar until it could kill a man and ask Rayyan to drink it knowing that Rayyan hates sweetest just like Dee.
It was perfect.
---
Evening
Dee sat up on the couch, her fever gone, hair tied up in a messy bun. Her favorite hoodie swallowed her whole.
She suddenly frowned. "Wait… where's Ayat?"
Rayyan blinked mid-bite of a cookie. "Huh?"
"Ayat. She was with Mr. Kang, right? And then… nothing." Her brows knit together. "We forgot her."
Rayyan jumped to his feet. "Crap."
He pulled out his phone and made a few calls. After a brief conversation with the hospital, he returned.
"She's there. Someone brought her in last night. Said she had injuries but stable condition. She's recovering."
Dee shot up—then sat back down, dizzy.
"I need to see her."
Rayyan hesitated. "You just started walking again."
"I don't care. She's my best friend."
"Dee—"
"You either drive me or I sneak out and walk barefoot in a hospital gown."
He sighed. "You're a menace."
"And you're in love with a menace."
"Unfortunately, yes."
---
Ayat lay in bed, one arm wrapped in bandages, a thick gauze across her forehead. Her face looked like she lost a fight with a concrete wall. She was flipping channels on the tiny hospital TV with a look of pure boredom.
Dee burst into the room like she owned it.
"Oh my God, what happened to your face?"
Ayat blinked. "Well, if it isn't the Fever Queen herself."
Dee made a dramatic gasp. "You're calling me names when you look like a burrito that lost hope?"
Rayyan chuckled in the corner. Ayat grinned through her stitches.
Dee rushed to her side, gently brushing her friend's hair back. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just covered in band-aids and secrets."
"Wanna tell me what happened?"
"Later. When my painkillers wear off and I'm slightly less dramatic."
Dee tried to adjust her pillow. Ayat slapped her hand away.
"Nope. Not today. You're the sick one. Go back and let lover boy fuss over you."
Rayyan grinned smugly.
Dee pouted. "Let me take care of you for once."
"You can. By going home. Now. Shoo."
---
The sky was burning orange as the sun dipped low.
Rayyan drove with one hand on the wheel and one arm around Dee, pulling her close as she leaned on his shoulder.
"I hate that you make me feel things," she muttered.
He smirked. "Good. You're stuck with me now."
"Are we dating?"
"I don't know. You want a label or just cuddles and chaos?"
"I vote cuddles and mild criminal activity."
He laughed. "Perfect. That's our thing now."
Dee sighed, smiling softly.
"I'm glad you stayed."
"I'd stay every night if you let me."
---
Rayyan tucked her in.
Then stood awkwardly beside her bed.
She narrowed her eyes. "What."
He coughed. "So… maybe I sleep here tonight?"
"In the bed?"
"Just to cuddle. Nothing weird. Scout's honor."
Dee raised a brow. "You were never a Scout."
"I looked at a Scout once."
"Rayyan—"
He made puppy eyes. "I had a long night too."
"No cuddles. You snore."
"I do not."
"You literally sound like a dying blender."
He groaned. "Fine. I'll sleep on the couch. But I'm stealing your blanket."
"You touch my blanket, I bite."
"Noted."
---
The clock read 2:03 AM.
Dee stared at the ceiling.
Something felt... off.
She sat up. Checked her phone.
Still nothing from Stape.
No messages. No calls.
She texted again.
"Hey. Where are you?"
Then again.
"It's been two days. I'm worried."
She called.
Straight to voicemail.
Her stomach twisted.
Quietly, she slipped out of bed, walked barefoot to the backyard, and stared at the night sky.
Cool wind brushed past her as the air felt too still. Too quiet.
She tried again.
Still no answer.
Then—her eyes widened.
She rushed back inside and grabbed her wallet.
From the back flap, she pulled out a small black card.
Blank. Except for a number written in silver ink.
Stape's voice echoed in her head:
> "If something happens to me and I don't reach you...
Call this number.
Ask for him."
Dee's hand trembled as she stared at the digits.
She swallowed hard.
And dialed.
---