= Sarah POV =
I woke up with a start, sitting upright in bed and fumbling through the folds of my duvet in search of my phone. The room was pitch black.
When I finally found it and swiped up, nothing happened.
I groaned and tossed it back onto the bed. Of course, it wasn't charged. How long had I been asleep?
Throwing off the sheets, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, immediately regretting it as the room tilted slightly. I rubbed at my eyes, but they were so crusted over and puffy that even opening them felt like a chore.
Still half-blind, I shuffled toward the door, one hand trailing along the wall for balance. Just as I reached for the knob and pulled it open, I walked face-first into Chris' solid, warm chest.
"Woah there," Chris said, steadying me by the shoulders. "I heard noise and came to check on you. Are you okay? You… don't look okay."
I sighed, still struggling to peel my eyelids apart. "I can't see. I think my eyes are swollen or something," I muttered, rubbing at them again.
"Stop that," Chris scolded, grabbing my wrists. "You're just going to make it worse."
She let out a sigh, then softened her tone. "Come on. I'll take you to the bathroom. Just follow me slowly."
I yawned as I shuffled behind her, feeling the cool tile floor beneath my feet as we finally reached the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the small space as Chris turned on the faucet and guided my hands under the stream.
I immediately cupped the cool water and splashed my face, rubbing vigorously until my eyelids finally obeyed and cracked open. Blinking, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and groaned.
Puffy eyes. Ragged face. Bird's nest hair.
"Oh my gosh," I muttered, running my fingers through my tangled strands. "I forgot how much I hate how I look when I'm sick. I look like an old lady in her late twenties."
Chris appeared in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe, looking effortlessly put together as usual. She smiled warmly.
"I think you look lovely—no matter what state you're in."
I squinted at her. "Yeah, well, that's because you're biased."
Chris stepped closer, her eyes glinting with amusement as she spun me around and pulled me gently against her chest. Her hand found my chin, tilting it up so our eyes met.
"Are you saying I have poor taste?" she asked smugly.
Heat rose to my cheeks. I pushed her away, flustered. "N-No, I… Forget it. I misspoke."
Chris chuckled, clearly enjoying my embarrassment, then patted my head.
"Get cleaned up and come have breakfast," she said, backing toward the door. "I made something hearty to help get you back on your feet."
With that, she left me alone in the bathroom, her presence lingering even after she'd gone.