The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 106: Chapter 106: The Apple Tart (1)

Lucien’s fever persisted throughout that entire night.

After a thorough examination, the family doctor clicked his tongue and shook his head: "His constitution is too weak, and coupled with the fact that his external injuries have not completely healed, it resulted in a high fever. I will prescribe some fever-reducing medication, along with mild antibiotics and tonics. You must monitor him closely tonight; if his temperature remains above thirty-nine degrees past midnight, call me immediately."

"Understood." Dominic accepted the prescription, his eyes never leaving the figure lying on the bed.

Lucien was already delirious by this point. He curled up beneath the blankets, his face flushed red, his lips dry and cracked, occasionally shivering in sudden spasms. Dominic escorted the doctor to the door, then returned to the kitchen to prepare some warm water. He tested the temperature against the back of his hand, and finding it suitable, brought it up to the bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped a hand behind Lucien’s nape, lifting the young man slightly: "Wake up and take your medicine."

Lucien did not respond. His eyes remained tightly shut, his hot breath brushing against Dominic’s wrist.

"Lucien." the man called out again, his voice deeper, his hand gently shaking Lucien’s shoulder: "Take your medicine, then go to sleep."

Only then did Lucien crack his eyes open, his sluggish pupils taking several seconds to recognize the person in front of him. He offered a feeble smile, his voice hoarse: "You are back... I am sorry..."

Perhaps due to the high fever and delirium, Lucien’s memories had stopped at the moment Dominic returned, his words mirroring what he had said earlier that afternoon. The man sighed. "Sorry for what?"

"The apple tart... I left it on the table. Have you eaten it?"

"I have eaten it." Dominic answered concisely, his hand bringing the pill to Lucien’s lips: "Drink this."

Lucien obediently opened his mouth. However, the moment the medicine touched his tongue, he grimaced and nearly choked. Dominic quickly held the glass of water for Lucien to drink, his other hand gently patting the youth’s back. After drinking, he panted heavily for a few breaths before his body collapsed back onto the pillows, his eyes drooping shut.

He placed the glass down on the table and was about to stand up when a scalding hot hand grabbed hold of his sleeve.

"Do not go..." Lucien whispered, his eyes still closed: "Stay here with me... just for a while..."

Dominic froze, he looked down at the trembling fingers clinging to his shirt, then shifted his gaze back to Lucien’s flushed face. Ultimately, he pulled up a chair and sat back down beside the bed.

"Go to sleep."

Lucien seemed to hear him, the corners of his lips relaxing a fraction. Yet the fever continued to torment him without letting go. Over the next few hours, he tossed and turned every fifteen minutes; at times he mumbled in his sleep, while at other times he shivered violently despite being covered by two layers of blankets.

Dominic did not leave the room. He placed a cold towel on Lucien’s forehead, changing it every ten minutes. Whenever Lucien shivered, he placed his hands on the youth’s shoulders, holding him tightly and waiting for the tremors to pass before letting go. Whenever Lucien muttered in his sleep, he sat quietly and listened, even though most of it was just meaningless words.

"No... do not leave me..."

"Mom..."

"The apple tart... it is burnt..."

It was not until approaching eleven o’clock at night that the fever finally began to break. Lucien’s body ceased trembling from the cold, and he appeared to be sleeping much more peacefully. Dominic measured his temperature, and seeing that it had dropped to thirty-eight degrees, he let out a long breath. He stood up, stretching to alleviate his stiffness, then made his way down to the kitchen to find something to eat.

The apple tart remained on the kitchen counter, its caramel heart shape having melted slightly as it cooled. He sliced a small piece and put it in his mouth. The mild tartness of the apples blended with the sweetness of the sugar; it was still fragrant and delicious despite being cold. He finished a quarter of the piece, drank a glass of purified water, and only then turned off the kitchen lights and returned to the bedroom.

After showering, he changed into a t-shirt and trousers, intending to get into bed. However, before turning off the light, his gaze swept across the stack of books on the small bedside table on Lucien’s side. A few old books, a box of colored pencils, and several loose sheets of paper with scribbled drawings of flowers and round cats.

At this moment, Dominic’s eyes stopped at the copy of The Count of Monte Cristo resting on top. He remembered a period when he was quite fond of this book; regrettably, he was too busy to finish it and had to set it aside.

Recalling the doctor’s instructions to monitor Lucien’s condition and prevent him from running a fever again in the middle of the night, Dominic decided to take The Count of Monte Cristo to bed, reading while occasionally touching Lucien’s forehead to observe his condition.

He flipped through a few pages, and suddenly a thin white envelope fell out from the final pages. Dominic picked it up and opened it to take a look; it was Lucien’s handwriting.

The reason he knew was because he had seen the young man writing down cooking recipes a few days ago, his handwriting slanted exactly like a child’s.

The man was still debating whether he should read it, considering it was Lucien’s personal belonging. Suddenly, his eyes caught the words "To Dominic" at the top of the paper.

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, and ultimately, he read the entire letter. Afterwards, he let out a sigh, folded the letter, and tucked it back in its original place. Yet a moment later, Dominic took the letter out again, pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, and placed the envelope inside.

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