Chapter 302 Caught a Cold
Willow thought seriously for a moment. It seemed like there was only one way, feeling a bit nervous, "Can this really work?"
"It's okay, don't worry. My brother cares about you so much, and he won't blame you. Just a kiss, it's nothing. He won't lose out." Daniel comforted Willow while she remained silent, after all, she remembered that this time, it wasn't just a simple kiss.
After hanging up the phone, Willow quickly changed into normal clothes and packed away the 'battle gear' into her suitcase. Just as she finished changing and washing her face, a knock on the door sounded. Mitchell's somewhat hoarse voice came from outside, "Willow, are you up? I bought breakfast for you."
Willow hurriedly went to open the door wearing slippers. Upon opening the door, Mitchell stood outside holding breakfast, his nose red, looking not quite well. Willow awkwardly took the breakfast bag, stepped aside to let Mitchell in, and said, "Thank you, Mitchell."
Without saying a word, Mitchell sneezed several times in a row. Willow, forgetting her embarrassment, asked with concern, "Mitchell, are you catching a cold?"
"Maybe a little bit." Mitchell's voice was hoarse, showing clear symptoms of a cold.
"Have you taken any medicine? It seems quite serious." Willow looked puzzled, unable to understand why he was fine yesterday but now had a bad cold.
Mitchell shook his head, sat down on the sofa in the room, and leaned back with his eyes slightly closed. After returning to his room last night, he took several cold showers, didn't dry his hair in time, and woke up feeling very uncomfortable in the morning, with a heavy head, a hoarse throat, and a bit of a cough.
Feeling worried, Willow put down the breakfast and prepared to go out, "Let me go buy some medicine for you." As she passed by Mitchell, he grabbed her arm, "Have breakfast first. I'll go with you later."
"No, you're already this sick. Of course, you should take medicine first." Willow tried to free her arm to go buy medicine.
"It's really fine. Be good, and have breakfast first." Mitchell didn't compromise, although his tone was gentle, and his hoarse voice spoke softly. The grip on Willow's arm didn't loosen at all. Unable to resist him, Willow had to sit down and quickly eat breakfast, wanting to finish quickly to buy Mitchell's medicine.
Mitchell still had his eyes closed slightly, leaning on the sofa. He was still conflicted in his heart, wondering if Willow had heard the last thing he said and if she remembered what happened last night.
After finishing breakfast, Willow hurried out to a nearby pharmacy and bought two boxes of cold medicine. When she returned, she found Mitchell asleep on the sofa. She gently woke him up, "Mitchell, take your medicine before sleeping." After calling him several times, Mitchell opened his eyes, obediently drank the water she handed to him, then swallowed the cold medicine she fed him and closed his eyes again, continuing to lean on the sofa.
After settling him on the bed, Willow noticed that his face was abnormally red. She quickly felt his forehead and realized that Mitchell had a fever.
Willow asked the hotel staff for an ice pack and a thermometer, checked his temperature, which was close to 39 degrees, placed the ice pack on his forehead, went out again to buy some fever-reducing medicine, fed it to him, and then stayed by his side.
Mitchell lay on the bed in a daze, possibly feeling uncomfortable. His brows furrowed, but he cooperated, making it easy for Willow to feed him medicine and water.
At noon, Willow called room service and had soup delivered to the room. After Willow's careful care in the morning, Mitchell gradually woke up at noon. Although his temperature hadn't returned to normal, it had decreased significantly.
After the soup arrived, Willow helped Mitchell sit up, "Mitchell, have something to eat first, then take your medicine again. You have a fever, don't you know?" Willow poured out the soup to cool it down, chattering away. Mitchell looked a bit pale and haggard, half-lying on the bed, his eyes watching Willow bustling around, feeling strangely comforted and even enjoying it.
She met Mitchell's eyes as Willow turned with a small bowl of soup. She felt a hint of nervousness as Mitchell's sickly beauty left her stunned.
"It's nothing," he said, his voice even hoarser than in the morning.
Willow placed the soup in front of him, saying, "Mitchell, I'll hold it. You eat with the spoon yourself." Mitchell pretended to be helpless, "I don't have the strength." Willow paused, "Then... should I feed you?" Mitchell immediately nodded, his hoarse voice saying, "Okay."
He answered too quickly, leaving Willow standing by the bed, holding the bowl without reacting. Mitchell coughed lightly a few times, masking his intentions. Willow, hearing him cough, became anxious and quickly patted his back.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she scooped up the soup with a spoon, feeding it bit by bit into Mitchell's mouth. His eyes were fixed on her, and the soup had no taste, but because Willow was feeding him, it tasted sweet to him.
Initially feeding someone soup without any ulterior motives, Willow found herself increasingly nervous as she realized it was the person she had liked for years. Mitchell's gaze made her heart race, and when she finally finished feeding him the soup, she breathed a sigh of relief and quickly took the empty bowl and left.
After taking care of Mitchell, Willow began to eat herself. Along with the soup, a meal was delivered, luckily still warm due to the insulation. She quickly finished her lunch, feeling a bit conflicted as Mitchell was now sleeping on her bed, leaving her with nowhere to stay.
Perhaps... she thought, taking Mitchell's room key card and going to his room.
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