The next time that he awoke, the sun was up again.

Cale rolled over on his bed, pulling the cover over his head as he moved. He heard somebody sighing but ignored it as a figment of his imagination. This was his room, nobody else could be here.

Footsteps.

Cale's eyes abruptly opened and he turned his head to peek over his shoulder, shocked at the sight of Julius standing by the side of his bed, the other boy's arms crossed over his chest and a thoroughly unimpressed look on his face. Julius rose a condescending eyebrow at him and stared at him with hard eyes.

"You got sick." Julius imperiously stated.

Cale swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and his eyes drove over every inch of his room, trying to spot anything out of place. The only thing that wasn't as he had left it was a pile of his books on the desk, one of which was still open.

"How long have you been here?" Cale asked, his voice wheezy and weak.

"You're speaking in proper sentences again," Julius noted and sat down next to him.

Before he had a chance to react, Julius tore the cover off his head and gripped Cale's cheeks between his hands. They splayed out on the sides of Cale's head as the teenager turned his head this way and that, examining every inch of it. Then Julius stared deeply into Cale's eyes, presumably trying to spot any irregularities, not that Cale knew if he even had that knowledge.

Out of the blue, Julius said, "It's flu season."

"Oh," Cale lowered his gaze to his lap and tried to ignore the warmth of Julius' hands on his skin. "I didn't realize."

Julius clicked his tongue. "This is why you're an idiot."

Cale didn't respond and felt his heart slow down to a more normal pace when Julius let go of his head. He exhaled softly and stared at Julius as the boy flitted from one corner of the room to another, picking up traces of his presence that Cale hadn't realized were there. Julius disappeared to the bathroom for a moment and when he came out, he brought with him Cale's toothbrush, covered in toothpaste.

"Here," Julius held it out toward him and Cale grabbed it gratefully.

He felt compelled to note, "You don't have to do this."

"Of course I do. Imagine how ugly you'll be if your teeth fall out." Julius crossed his arms again and stared down at him intently until Cale relented and started brushing his teeth.

When his mouth was full of bubbles, Julius held out an empty cup for Cale to spit into. Julius then stole his toothbrush while he was doing this, disappeared back into the bathroom and came back with it a few seconds later, pushing it back into Cale's mouth without saying a word.

Cale let him be, figuring that this was as good a solution as any. He didn't have any energy to protest anyway and the idea of getting out of bed and going to the bathroom to take care of his teeth hygiene wasn't appealing in the least. The process of spitting into a cup only for Julius to take his toothbrush, disappear into the bathroom and then returning with it again repeated half-a-dozen times before Julius was finally satisfied.

By this time, Cale was sitting with his back against the wall, comfortable as he was propped up by all of the pillows that he owned. He had the covers pulled up all the way to his chin, his knees bent against his chest. Occasionally he yawned as he watched Julius fussing all over the room.

Evidently the boy disapproved of the state of Cale's room.

"You need to clean up after yourself, look at all this dust!" Julius shook the finger he had pulled along one of the bookshelves and waved it in Cale's face, as if to make sure that Cale understood the severity of the situation.

He croaked out, "I do clean."

"Clearly not enough."

Cale could no longer bear to be on the receiving end of Julius' judgmental looks and stared in another direction. Julius clicked his tongue, the sound carrying in the otherwise silent room. "Are you ignoring me?"

Cale didn't respond.

"You realize you probably got sick because of all this dust, right?"

"It's just the flu."

"You'd better hope so, that's the only medicine I brought."

Cale sank further into the mess of pillows and covers and a couple of extra blankets that had been piled up on top of him. He pushed his face against the cover, delighting in the warmth of it. Determinedly, he ignored the various dismayed sounds Julius made as the boy cleaned.

Despite knowing better, Cale couldn't help but feel happiness fill him as Julius took over his room like a hurricane. One that cleaned up after itself.

And then cleaned up after Cale too, just because.

He bit his bottom lip and pushed his face further into the cover until he could barely see above it. His eyes followed Julius' figure as the boy tore out all of his books to properly clean the bookshelves, stacking them on the floor as he went. The warmth in Cale's body only grew hotter, butterflies dancing in his stomach and his heart flipped in his chest.

"Julius..." Cale started and asked as he kept peeking at the boy, "How old are you?"

Julius looked up and stated, "I just turned sixteen. Why?"

It was like a bucket full of cold water was dumped on Cale. His stomach dropped and his heart flipped for an entirely different reason. Sixteen... was too young, right? No matter where Cale's feelings had started going without his permission, it would be creepy, right? Calla's body was twenty right now and Cale himself had been twenty-two when he was... transmigrated. That was what, a six-year age difference?

Julius' brusque attitude had kept Cale from thinking about it, but it really wasn't appropriate, was it?

He muttered into the cover, "I'm twenty."

"I know." Julius gave him a harsh look. "What does that have to do with anything? You're still an idiot."

"Four years..." Cale mumbled and hid his whole face between his knees.

He heard Julius standing up and walking over to him again. Cale just clenched his eyes shut and waited for Julius to do something. But Julius just stood there, not saying a word. Cale swore that he could feel Julius' gaze on him.

At last, Julius stated, "You're an idiot."

Then he went back to cleaning.

Cale's heart jumped in his chest. That had almost sounded like fondness, which really wasn't like Julius at all. No, he was sure that he was mistaken. He pulled the cover and assorted blankets over his head completely until it was like a tent over him. Biting down on his thumb, he thought furiously.

Even if... even if Cale had some sort of non-platonic feelings for Julius, that really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. It didn't change anything. Cale still had his goal of not dying, or getting dragged into the mess that was the plot of 'Fire & Ice'. He still had a lot of studying that needed priority so that he could graduate this year before the plot really took off. He still needed to find some way to balance his studying with taking care of his health, so that this didn't happen again.

No, he really didn't have any time to be worrying about his feelings.

Really, this whole thing made him feel kind of useless.

While Julius continued to clean and eventually air out the room by opening the window, Cale kept silent as he tried his best to use the tried and true method of compartmentalizing. His emotions couldn't get the better of him now, he couldn't afford it, so it would just have to be dealt with at some other time, regardless of how unhealthy that might be.

Julius stood up straight after hours of grueling work and stretched his back, which made loud cracking noises that forced Cale to look over. After all this time, Julius looked worn, his light hair flying in all possible directions, dust and dirt on his clothes and a tired slump to his shoulders that betrayed how exhausted he must be. Cale frowned and asked, "Did you sleep last night?"

"No. I took care of you." Julius said as he put the last few books back on the shelves.

"That—" Cale licked his lips and sat up straighter, splaying his legs out straight in front of him. "You didn't have to do that. You should have slept. And what about school, isn't it a school day today?"

"I got the day off to take care of you."

"But—"

"I decided it on my own. Don't be stupid now." Julius threw him a glare and Cale backed off, biting down on his arguments. He didn't want to get into a fight with Julius about something like this.

Julius stalked over to him where he was sitting on the bed and put his forearm against Cale's forehead. The boy clicked his tongue loudly once again and stated, "You still have a fever."

Cale smiled slightly at him. "I can get the medicine for it myself. It's in the cabinet over the sink, behind the mirror. You don't have to stay anymore. You should get a good night's sleep before tomorrow."

Julius smirked at him. "It's Saturday tomorrow. There's no school."

"Still—"

"I'll be back tomorrow with breakfast. You'd better not be dead." Julius snarked out as he left Cale's room without another word, completely ignoring the protests on the tip of Cale's tongue.

In the absence of the teenage boy, Cale smiled a little to himself. He leaned his head back against the pillows and the small headboard, his head only protected from the wall by a single flimsy pillow; all the rest had slid down. He exhaled gently and closed his eyes, the headache reappearing when he was no longer distracted by Julius' commanding presence.

He breathed carefully and then started the process of getting up off the bed. He swayed on his feet as he walked, his legs trembling beneath him.

Luckily, he hadn't remembered wrong. The medicine Calla's mother had packed was right where he had said it was and he swallowed it without hesitating. The taste was obnoxious, but it couldn't be helped. He just had to bear it.

He just had to bear a lot of things.