I sat up with a groan. My head was aching and I kept sneezing every after 10 seconds. Rubbing my nose, I glanced at the clock and grabbed my phone from the bedside table.   From: The Demon Reincarnation My Latte better be there when I open my door tomorrow at 8 am sharp. It's not even the least you could do after the trouble you caused me.   The text was still there. Kris had sent it last night right after I got inside my room.   Realizing I was late by an hour, I groaned some more and lay my head back on the pillow. He's probably fuming already, I could afford some delay.   But then events from yesterday started playing itself in my head and I remembered how, unwilling he seemed, Kris had helped me. I sighed and forced myself to get up.   I got his Latte at the coffee shop just across the school. If I hadn't mentioned before, our school was located in the middle of the city, surrounded by several shops and stores; it was totally convenient.   At reaching Kris' door, I knocked immediately, knowing that the best way to deal with the situation was to quickly get it over with. I held my breath and waited for his annoyed face, but then nothing came. With furrowed eyebrows, I knocked again but got the same result. Impatient, I reached for his doorknob and to my surprise, it wasn't locked.   Forgetting the vow I had made about never returning, I stepped inside his room. My free hand immediately tugged my jacket closer; Kris' room was freezing. I set the latte down on the first table that I saw and made a beeline for the air conditioner. I turned it up, a couple of degrees higher, and then looked around the room.   It was surprisingly clean, except for the area near his bed. A lot of pillows were strewn around. And on his bed was Kris buried beneath layers and layers of blanket. Well, it had to be him, what else could that human-size lump be?   "Kris," I called out to announce my presence. But the Kris lump didn't move. Huh.   I went closer and nudged his bed with my foot, effectively shaking it. At that, I heard a groan and saw a shifting of movement and a second later, his head popped up, his disheveled hair wildly pointing in different directions, his eyes squinting at me, his brows furrowing.   "Whoa," I couldn't help saying. "What happened to you?"   A flash of recognition crossed his features at the sound of my voice, and then he went to bury himself deeper in the blankets as if I wasn't there.   What the.   "Hey." I kicked his bed again.   "Go away," I heard him groaned from underneath. "Leave whatever it is you brought on the table."   Whatever it is? I echoed in my mind, raising an eyebrow. Kris doesn't forget that easily.   "Hey, are you okay?" I leaned down and contemplated pulling the covers off him. When he didn't respond, I did.   "What the heck?!" he yelled, finally sitting up.   I didn't answer, I just stared. Kris shirt was nowhere to be seen, he only had his pants. Why in the world does Kris have to be half- whenever I enter his room?   He cursed and flung the remaining blanket off him. He threw on a robe lying nearby and went to glare at me.    "Didn't I tell you to–" A sneeze suddenly interrupted him, but this time, it wasn't from me. That was when I noticed his red nose, his glassy eyes, and his untidy look.   Without thinking, I reached for his forehead and compared his temperature with mine.   "Whoa," I muttered. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"   He flung my hand away as if I were carrying something contagious. "Why the heck would I tell you?"   "Duh. Aren't I supposed to be your errand girl or something? I could have fetched you some medicine."   "Then you should have fetched yourself one," he spat.   As if on cue, my nose felt itchy and I sneezed.   He looked at me as if to say see and walked to the table where I put his latte. He brought it to his lips and downed it in one go.   "What?" He snapped at me when he caught me staring.   "Nothing."   He rolled his eyes at me. "Well then don't just stand there. I thought you were going to get me some medicine!"   "Right," I muttered.       When I returned half an hour later, Kris was sleeping again and the air conditioner was on full blast again as well. The only difference was that he was now using his gigantic pillows to cover himself while his blanket lay untouched on the floor.   I placed the medicine kit I got from the school clinic (there was no one around but I figured they wouldn't mind, especially since it was Kris that needed it) on the bedside table. Then I picked up the strewn sheets and dumped it on a nearby couch. Looking around and finding nothing amiss, I turned to go.   But then Kris chose that moment to shift on his bed, making the pillow covering his face drop on the floor. And I couldn't help staring, again. Without really some rational reason in my head, I made way for his bed instead of the door.   And I just stood there, looking down at Kris, wondering why his face looked so kind when asleep and yet when awake, he looked so intimidating and always glowering he could pass off as some movie's villain.   But you're not a villain, Kris, my mind said, surprising myself and thinking how he had kept my secret when I thought it was the end for me, thinking how he had come back for me in the rain however sullen he