Episode 13 Continued - Curious Kitten
I coughed a little as I sat on my bed, covering my mouth in hopes to conceal it.
“I heard that,” Sebastian said as he folded my clothes back into a drawer. “Do you need your inhaler?”
“No,” I said, voice slightly raspy.
“Mm, liar.” He pushed the chest closed—where he kept my belongings—and lightly caught an inhaler from the main table. “I knew this would happen because you’re almost never truthful with me.” He held it out. “Please, take it, master.”
I lightly took it from his hand, staring down at it for a moment as I coughed again.
He just lowered his lashes. “You don’t know how to take it, do you?”
I glared at him.
But, no, I didn’t.
He just sighed as if he had a tunnel to my thoughts and stepped over, settling beside the bed and taking the inhaler from me.
I watched in distaste as he shook it and took off the cap, spraying it out before looking back at me. “Open your mouth, master.”
“No.”
He gave me a look. “Please?”
“No.”
He just sighed in annoyance and shot me a look.
My eyes grew in panic when his pupils slit once more.
But he caught my jaw and pressed inward at two pressure points, making my mouth open despite my wishes.
“Ah!” I said as he pressed the inhaler into my mouth.
“Breathe it in,” he said in a dark tone. “Unless you really want to go back to that hospital you hate.”
My entire form grew cold.
I gave in then.
He pressed the top of the inhaler, spraying the medicine into my throat, and I inhaled it, holding my breath for ten seconds.
He pulled the inhaler away.
I coughed then, feeling my head rush within seconds and I pressed my hand to it, closing my eyes tightly.
“Is it working?” he said.
“I feel… incredibly dizzy,” I told him. “I hate that thing.”
“It’s working,” he replied then, smiling. “That means oxygen is entering your bloodstream.”
“What are you, a doctor?”
“I’m a demon, there’s a difference.” He chuckled as he brushed the wrinkles from my nightshirt down. “Alright, master. Lay down. You’ll feel better in the morning, I know it.”
I just glared at him but listened, resting down onto the mattress as he stood and pulled the covers over me.
But when I gazed up at him, he knelt over me and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead.
My brows drew together in question.
“No fever,” he said quietly, pulling the sheets more over me. “I just had to make sure.”
My lips thinned then, but he just stepped over to the main table—where a lamp sat—and lightly blew out the small fire within it.
The room was then enclosed in darkness.
“Goodnight, my lord.” His words flooded the room like soft ocean waves. “Sleep well.”
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