The boy from across the street stands awkwardly at Athena's door, eyes wavering between the ground and Athena.

"What are you doing here?" Athena starts. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Can I come in?" Felix asks, disregarding the girl's last questions.

Watching him, she can tell outside was cold. The boy was shivering feverously in front of her and the tips of his nose and ears were redder than a cherry. She sighs and grabs Felix's hand, pulling him into the warmth of her home.

Athena closes the door softly behind them and hurries away to the kitchen. Felix follows slowly to see her scouring the cupboards.

"What are you looking for?"

Athena barely hears his voice (too quiet and discontinued due to the chatter of Felix's teeth) but doesn't ask for a reiteration. Instead, she continues to pull drawers open and close.

A few minutes later, the girl turns to Felix triumphantly with her hands raised in the air. Hot packs filled them and Felix can't help but melt, metaphorically of course.

They move to the living room where Athena stocks Felix up with hot packs and drapes a thick blanket around his shoulders.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

"You're welcome," Athena utters back. She watches as he engulfs the warmth and frowns, wondering why he went through all this trouble. "So, are you really not going to tell me why you appeared at my door at one am in the morning?"

Felix locks eyes with Athena. He thinks about everything that has happened in the last week. About his dad, his mother, the unwanted tension that was now settled in their home, missing the party. It all is just so tiring.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Athena takes a while but then nods and smiles at the boy. "Sure."

"I'm sorry. Did I wake your parents?" Felix suddenly asks. He didn't really think about how his intrusion may affect the girl and her family.

"It's okay," Athena says with a chuckle. "My parents could sleep through an earthquake. The doorbell ringing is nothing."

Felix grins at that and then the two are back to silence. They spend the night like that. Curling up on the couch and slowly falling back to sleep, curing the little things that hold each of them together.