The floor?

Tyler blinked in recognition of Kovan’s eyes, then took stock of himself, and realized that he indeed had slid down to the ground, back rested against the central pillar.

Kovan was shaking him by his shoulders, then felt his forehead and cursed aloud.

“Come, you’re in fever. You must have been in here too long.”

Kovan curled his fingers around Tyler’s arms, digits suddenly unnaturally hot and branding. Tyler hissed, but found no strength to oppose him, letting himself be hauled to his feet.

Luckily, strength did not all abandon him. He was able to walk, albeit abit unsteadily, pulled along by Kovan who led him out the shower disk and back into the main quarters.

A hearty fire was already roasting on the hearth, bringing to boil a generous pot that stationed above it. It seemed Kovan must have already been cooking for a while, and if that were so, Tyler must have lost track of the long period he stayed in shower.

“Sit,” Kovan commanded, gentle tones feathering his firm tone.

Tyler sank into the big, fluffy cushions without protest, relieved to give his shaky legs rest. The chill suddenly besieged him when he exited the showers, sinking into his bones and sending him quivering inside his hot skin.

A blanket was draped over him, for which Tyler was additionally grateful. His fingers curled around the edges, trapping himself within it along with layers of heat. He was torn that instant, wanting to divest himself of the unbearable temperatures suffocating him, yet at the same time, needing it to warm his icy cold bones.

“Eat,” Kovan delivered a big bowl of chunky soup of which the usual aroma was now lost on him. Tyler had no appetite and relayed it with a slight shake of his head.

The glow of the hearth cast hash shadows beneath Kovan’s frown, deepening his jeweled eyes, which looked even more luminous, bright like a lighted link-ore despite the already well-lit lounge. The curtains had been drawn half open, allowing the area to be flooded with sunlight. Even so, Kovan’s iris stood out, perhaps more so in Tyler’s state of fatigue.

Tyler averted his gaze, suddenly dizzy, head beginning to pound.

“You need food in your belly or I can’t give you the tonic to remedy your fever.”

Tyler gave a barely suppressed huff. He knew that much himself, but the thought of putting anything into his gut felt like it would come back right out.

“Just leave me be,” Tyler grumbled stubbornly.

His blonde brows knitted together, clearly bewildered by Tyler’s choice in insisting on self-torture.

“I don’t know where your stubbornness is coming from, but I will not have a man unwell in my keeping.”

Kovan forced the food closer, but his action – no, his words – drew fierce defiance.

“Then just throw me out and release me from our bond!” without thought, Tyler smacked his arm away as he snarled like a hound displeased to be caught in traps.

The bowl hurtled off the side and hit the floor several feet away, strewing its contents, dirtying the gleaming Silica floor with soupy tributaries.

Kovan exhaled loudly, irritation evident.

“What will I ever do with you? Such a high-strung person, you are.”

Green eyes flashed intensely, reminding Tyler of how he had over stepped himself yet again. Tyler felt his agitation fizzle down a notch, well-mannered enough to feel guilt over his bad display in return for Owner’s concern. Then again, the fires remained crackling deep in his gut, a discontent rumble that affected him for every day that he remained a bondsman.

As much as he reluctantly recognized Kovan was an owner much kinder and who had given him much more freedom and reprieve, Tyler couldn’t forgive him for shackling him in the first place.

Showing him such concern seemed almost pointless since he had also thrust Tyler into the path of danger.

It would be easier if Kovan acted like a beast, so Tyler could hate on him fully without any remorse.

“Do as what you want,” Kovan finished with a biting tone when Tyler gave unreceptive silence as a reply, signaling that the man wanted nothing more to do with him.

Good. For Tyler doubted he would rise out of his bad mood anytime soon.

He would soon regret his stubbornness, when hours later, not taking food nor the remedy, came back to bite him.

Tyler fidgeted between fleeting moments of waking and sleeping.

He was bone chilled, yet burning hot at the same time. As if he was struck by an icy blast of wind in the middle of a freezing night, atop the mouth of an erupting volcano. His teeth might have chattered – he wasn’t sure, only that his jaws were tight and aching, and throat scratchy like he’d swallowed mouthfuls of hot, sun-baked sand.

His eyes burned like hot coal sat atop his lids, yet he couldn’t open them, as if they were plastered shut. He should get up. The last vestiges of his consciousness struggling to keep a firm hold of his laden body.

Up!

His body refused to move, as if a weight was upon him.

Upon his lips.

Dry, and cool, moving with firm intention. Then hot liquid trickled into his mouth, touching his tongue, the unwelcome intrusive rude, and alarming.

On reflex he gagged, shooting up, but he was pressed down – this time for sure, he knew by someone else, who covered his mouth and tipped his head back, forcing the liquid down.

Tyler gave a muffled whimper whilst he swallowed hard, struggling in futile, limbs slack and useless like a cloth doll.

The assault repeated, and Tyler finally managed to force open his lids, just barely catching a glimpse of his assailant’s blond lashes dusting his.

Barely the time it took for a grain of sand to fall to the bottom of a sand clock, Tyler’s lids, fluttered to a close, and he drifted back into the abyss.