CHAPTER SIX

Everything was like a déjà vu. He woke up to the sound of his secretary’s voice calling his name. He didn’t even know he fell asleep. He is hunched on his table, arms on both sides of his head, right hand still holding his pen. His right cheek is squished on his table and he had to hold the papers down as he straightened to sit up. He groaned, eyes squinted as he looked blearily at her, standing in front of his desk.

“Yeah?” he yawned.

His body feels so heavy. The breath coming out of his nose is warm, too warm. His eyes stings in a way that it does when you have a fever. Fuck, does he have a fever? He stretched his arms above his head, getting rid of the kinks.

“It’s past 10 in the evening, Sir. You might want to go home.”

He turned his head sharply at that, a bad move. His vision is swimming, the world feels unsteady on his feet even as he sat. He feels like shit.

“I’m sorry I kept you late again,” he slurred, leaning his head on his table. He can feel his head throbbing with a headache and the cool touch of the surface of the table on his skin is like magic. He closed his eyes.

His secretary did not reply. He sat up straight once again and saw her fiddling with her fingers.

“You can go,” he sighed.

“I’ll go later in a bit.”

With that, she left. The sound of her heels as she walks away making his head throb more.

He went back to resting his head on the table. His body feels really extremely heavy, how is he supposed to drive home like this?

After a few minutes of debating whether he should go home or just stay here for the night, he has a couch here comfortable to enough to sleep on anyway, he decided he’ll just go home.

He pushed his tired body up to stand up, staggering as he did so. He looked at the mess of documents on his table, deciding to just leave them like that for now. He grabs his phone to book a cab. He won’t be able to get back to the apartment safely at this rate. He gathered his things, painfully slow as he feels as though he would collapse anytime. Fuck. He has been pushing his body too much for almost a week and he seems to have already reached his limit. He’s offended. Because this is it? This is all he can go? Now besides the heavy feeling of fever, he now also feels heavily disappointed on himself too. How is he supposed to save his company now if he acts like this?

His phone lit up in notification, the cab he booked already downstairs. He casted a last look around his office before walking out.

It was cold outside, something he appreciated. The cab was right in front of the building, he gave the security guard a small smile as he opened the door for him. He muttered a small thanks as he passed by him. He immediately dumped his body at the backseat of the cab, slurring his address to the driver before sighing as he closed his eyes.

He did not know how much time has passed, but he eventually feels the car coming to a stop. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning as he sat up. He gave the driver his fare before getting out. Now on usual days that he drove his car, he actually finds the driveway to Wade’s apartment building convenient as it gives privacy to the residence. But now that he took a cab, he’s cursing it. Only private vehicles are allowed there, and now he has to push his sick body to walk all the way.

By the time he reached the building, he’s sweating profusely despite the chill. His hands are shaky as he pushed the glass door open to enter, even as he pushed the elevator button for the top floor. His knees are shaking too as he stood inside. When he reached the floor, he walked slowly, afraid that his knees would buckle if he walks any faster.

The apartment is dark and quiet as he entered. He went straight to the stairs, his body is demanding for rest and he’s running out of breath. If this was his apartment, he would surely just let himself pass out somewhere in his living room. But no, unfortunately it’s not his place. Plus, he doesn’t want to give Wade the satisfaction of telling him “I told you so” when he sees his state. He’s already lost so much of his pride when he asked the man for help and married him, he can’t bear to lose even more.

He entered his room, did not even bother to change out of his working clothes and just quite literally collapsed on his bed. Sighing at the feeling, he slept fitfully.

--

For the second time, he woke up to someone’s voice. It’s soothing. And although he’s loath to cut off his slumber, wanting to just sink in his pillow, he slowly opened his eyes. He hummed, not really aware of his surroundings yet. The first thing he registered was the warm hand on his forehead, palm trailing down to his left cheek. Next was the scent, so close to his nose and it smells wonderful. He almost nuzzled into it, until his sleep addled brain caught up on the rain water and coffee scent, the owner of the scent’s face flashing in the forefront of his mind, making him shot up straight. He groaned at his sudden action. The warm hand on his cheeks disappeared and he almost whimpered at the loss of it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked blearily. He pulled the comforter up his chest as he blinked at the man in front of him.

Wade is wearing his work clothes, looking as presentable as ever. He belatedly realizes that he’s still wearing his too. And then realization hit him. He spun his head to his right and hissed when it throbbed sharply where a clock is. It’s almost noon. Fuck.

“What are you doing?” came Wade’s voice as he watched him fumble around the bed slowly.

“I’m late,” he croaked out. He winced at how hoarse his voice sounded.

“Late for what? You’re sick.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he said, slowly standing up. He yelped when he was pushed to the bed.

“What the fuck?” Klyde coughed, looking up at Wade who is looking at him as if he’s done something extremely stupid.

“You’re sick,” Wade said firmly.

“I know. But I have a company to save—”

“You think you can save a company like that?”

“I don’t care just—”

He once again tried to stand up but was just pushed down on the bed gain. He groaned frustratingly, hitting the bed with his hand.

“Can you not? I need to go to work. How did you even know I was here?”

“I went to your company of course.”

He looked up confusedly at Wade.

“What? Why?”

Wade sighed, his eyes roaming around the room before it settled on him again.

“I needed to discuss the merging with your company so I went. You weren’t there when I came obviously, so I asked your secretary. Said you didn’t call but figured you were sick since last night.”

It’s the longest he has ever heard the man talk, Klyde thinks. His mind struggles to keep up with the conversation but he did catch one thing.

“Wait, meeting? For the merging?” he asked.

“I believe I just said that.”

“All the more reasons for me to go then,” he said, kicking the blankets aside once again as he attempted to get up.

“It’s done,” Klyde stopped on his tracks at that.

“What?”

“You do have a knack for repeating things, don’t you?” Wade said impatiently.

“What do you mean it’s done?”

Wade heaved a sigh, eyes closing for a bit.

“It’s done. I held a meeting, discussed it with your board. It’s done.”

“But—”

“Rehan.”

Klyde’s mouth automatically shut at that. He doesn’t know why. He tries to feel for the air, trying to sense if Wade is emitting his alpha pheromones subtly to make him obey, but he senses none in the air. So why? Why does he always make him listen and shut up just like that?

“You’re sick. I can smell your fever even from outside the room,” he pointed at something at the end of the bed, Klyde’s eyes followed his movement.

“I got you a change of clothes. You’re still wearing your uniform, so change.”

He obediently reaches out for the clothes, it’s his. He wonders how the alpha got it; did he look through his things in his room?

“I’m sorry if I invaded your privacy,” so he did.

“Change. Rest. You’re not to leave this apartment until you’re well, understand?”

He gave him a reluctant nod, eyes fixated on his clothes in his hands.

He can feel him still staring at him. The alpha’s scent would surely stay in his room for days, he doesn’t know what to feel about that.

The alpha silently walked out and at the sound of the door closing, he breathed out the breath he was unconsciously holding.

He stared at where the man was standing, trying to recall their whole conversation. Did it really happen, or is he that delirious in his fever that he made the whole thing up? He breathed, and through his clogged nose, he can smell the traces of the man in his room, the only indication that he indeed had been there. He wonders how the man always renders him speechless. How does he always manage to overpower him? He has met many alphas in his life, most of them trying to bring him down of course. Most have preying, predatory eyes while looking at him. Wade is different, but he can’t pinpoint how.

He got up, taking his clothes with him, it’s best for him to take a warm shower. It’ll surely make him feel better.

He walked to the en suite, ridding himself of his clothes. He tenderly scrubbed at his skin, scrubbing the dirt and sweat of yesterday. He took his time under the warm spray of shower. He did feel refreshed after. He walked out of the shower while toweling his hair dry. He stopped on his tracks as he spotted a glass of water and two tablets of painkiller on his nightstand. He slowly approached, for some reason feeling cautious. He inhaled a sharp breath when he saw a paper tucked beneath the glass of water. He picked it up to read.

Eat. Food downstairs.