Dean slowly became aware of the quiet first.
Not the loud, busy quiet of school hallways—but the soft kind. The kind that filled a house late at night.
Her head felt heavy.
Warm.
And there was a faint smell of medicine in the air.
She blinked slowly.
The ceiling above her looked familiar.
Her room.
Dean frowned slightly, trying to remember what happened.
School… the hallway… dizziness…
Then everything rushed back.
"Great," she muttered weakly.
"You're awake?"
Dean turned her head toward the voice.
Ezekiel was sitting beside her bed, leaning forward in a chair with his elbows on his knees. His hair looked messier than usual, like he had been running his hands through it a hundred times.
The moment he saw her eyes open, his worried expression immediately disappeared.
And his usual teasing grin took its place.
"Well, well," he said. "Look who decided to wake up."
Dean squinted at him.
"Why are you here?"
Ezekiel leaned back in the chair casually.
"Your parents are out of town," he said. "Mine said I should stay here and make sure you don't die."
Dean stared at him.
"You're very comforting."
"I know."
She shifted slightly under the blanket, noticing the cool cloth on her forehead.
"Did you put that there?"
"Obviously."
Dean looked at him for a moment before looking away.
"Thanks."
Ezekiel gasped dramatically.
"Did you just thank me?" he said. "Wow. The fever must be serious."
Dean weakly kicked his chair.
"You're annoying."
"Still alive though," he said.
He stood up and stretched his arms.
"Good timing too."
Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
Ezekiel walked over to the side of the bed and leaned down slightly.
"You're awake now, wife," he said with a teasing smile. "Do you want to eat now?"
Dean grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.
"I'm not your wife!"
He laughed, catching the pillow easily.
"Careful," he said. "You're the one who passed out dramatically into my arms earlier."
Dean covered her face with her hands.
"Oh my god."
"Princess behavior."
"Stop calling me that!"
Ezekiel chuckled and left the room for a moment before returning with a tray.
"Soup," he said, placing it on the small table beside her bed. "Doctor Ezekiel's prescription."
Dean looked at the bowl suspiciously.
"You made this?"
"Technically my mom made it," he admitted. "I just reheated it."
"That makes more sense."
She slowly sat up and started eating.
Ezekiel watched her carefully.
"You okay?" he asked.
Dean nodded.
"Still dizzy," she admitted.
"Good thing I'm here then," he said.
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't sound so proud."
The teasing didn't stop the rest of the night.
Whenever Dean tried to rest, Ezekiel found something stupid to say.
Whenever Ezekiel got too smug, Dean kicked him or threw something at him.
At some point late into the night, Dean finally fell asleep again.
Ezekiel quietly turned off the lamp beside her bed.
Then he walked out into the living room and dropped onto the sofa.
He stared at the ceiling.
For a while, he didn't sleep.
Instead, every so often, he stood up and quietly walked back to Dean's room.
Just to check on her.
Just to make sure she was still breathing normally.
After the third time, he sighed.
"You're such a troublemaker," he muttered softly.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
The next morning, sunlight filled the kitchen.
Dean walked in slowly, rubbing her eyes.
And immediately froze.
Ezekiel stood at the stove flipping something in a pan.
"You cook now?" she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder.
"Oh look," he said. "My sick wife has awakened."
Dean kicked the back of his leg.
"Stop calling me that!"
"Violence again," he said calmly.
A few minutes later, they were sitting at the table eating breakfast.
Dean felt a lot better.
Not perfect.
But better.
Soon they were walking to school together like usual.
Ezekiel walked slightly ahead before suddenly slowing down.
Dean bumped into him.
"Move!"
"Careful," he said. "You might faint again."
She kicked his shin.
"You deserved that."
He laughed.
The morning air felt cool, and the street was quiet as they walked.
Dean looked at him.
"You didn't have to stay all night," she said.
Ezekiel shrugged.
"Someone had to make sure you didn't die."
Dean rolled her eyes.
But she smiled anyway.
They reached the school gate still arguing, still kicking each other like always.
Still laughing.
Just friends.
That's what they always said.
Just friends. By the time Dean and Ezekiel reached the school gates, the first bell had already rung.
Dean stopped walking.
"You made us late," she said.
Ezekiel looked offended. "Me? You're the one who walks like a sleepy turtle."
"I was sick yesterday!"
"Excuses."
Dean kicked his leg.
"Ow," he said. "Violence again."
"Move faster then!"
They ended up half walking, half jogging through the hallway while still arguing.
"You literally stopped to laugh at your own joke," Dean said.
"It was a good joke."
"It was not!"
"Your sense of humor is just broken."
"You're broken."
By the time they reached their classroom door, Dean suddenly froze.
Ezekiel almost bumped into her.
"What?"
Dean pointed at the door.
The class was already quiet.
Which meant one thing.
"…the teacher is already inside," she whispered.
Ezekiel sighed dramatically.
"Well," he said. "Too late now."
He pushed the door open.
The entire class immediately looked at them.
Their teacher stood near the board with her arms crossed.
"Well, well," she said calmly. "Look who decided to join us."
Dean wanted the floor to swallow her.
Before she could even explain, two very familiar voices spoke at the same time.
"Look!"
"The newlyweds are here!"
CJ leaned back in his chair with the biggest grin imaginable, while Cy sat beside him looking just as entertained.
The class immediately started laughing.
Dean groaned.
"Please stop."
But Ezekiel suddenly stepped forward.
"Good morning, ma'am," he said politely.
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"Good morning."
Ezekiel gestured toward Dean.
"Sorry we're late," he continued. "My wife is still weak."
The classroom exploded.
"OHHHHHH!"
Dean's face turned bright red.
"I AM NOT HIS WIFE!"
CJ slammed his hand on the desk laughing.
"Bro just admitted it!"
Cy nodded seriously. "Such a responsible husband."
The teacher tried to hide a smile.
"Oh really?" she said to Ezekiel. "Taking good care of your wife, I see."
Ezekiel nodded confidently.
"Of course."
Dean kicked his ankle.
Hard.
He flinched but kept smiling.
"See?" he said calmly. "She's feeling better already."
The class laughed even louder.
"Alright, alright," the teacher said finally. "You two can sit down before the honeymoon gets longer."
Dean covered her face as she walked to her seat.
Ezekiel sat beside her like nothing had happened.
"You're the worst," she whispered.
"You're welcome."
She kicked him again under the desk.
"Ow."
"Deserved."
The lesson continued like normal after that.
The teacher began explaining the topic while writing on the board.
Most of the class focused.
Except for two people.
Under the desk, Dean kicked Ezekiel's shoe again.
He lightly kicked back.
She glared at him.
He grinned.
"Pay attention," she whispered.
"You first."
She rolled her eyes and tried to look at the board again.
A few seconds later, Ezekiel quietly slid a small piece of paper onto her desk.
Dean unfolded it.
Still weak, wife?
Dean immediately scribbled something and shoved it back to him.
Shut up.
Ezekiel read it and chuckled quietly.
The teacher continued talking at the front of the class.
Meanwhile, under their desks—
Kick.
Kick back.
Kick again.
Neither of them looked at each other.
But both of them were trying very hard not to laugh.
Just friends.
That's what everyone thought.
Just friends.
But sometimes…
It didn't feel that simple.