"You have a high fever." I start awkwardly standing for a while before nearing the bed.

"Fevers can be caused by infections from injuries..."After hesitating for a moment I threw caution to the wind and bit the bullet peaking in through velvet curtains.

The god of the Underworld held a scroll in between long pale fingers, amber eyes immersed in its contents. His face was smoothed out, loosing their cold and oppressive feeling in the midst of being focused and preoccupied, but the serious expression never lost its arrogance.

"...so you have any?" I brace myself to meet the enchanting eyes but yet I was baffled and silently scolded my weak spine.

"No."

The single word seems to reverberate through my bones, the cold undertones to his voice like hidden daggers and I retrieve my neck.

And realising how uncooperative he was, I skip to the open door with a spontaneous idea. "You wouldn't mind if I go out for a bit." But I had thought he would have never acknowledge it.

"Running away." It echoed through the room, but yet it felt incomplete as if the god himself did not know whether it was a question or a fact.

And I didn't turn back knowing that he remained hidden and pad out closing the door behind me gently.

Outside I met a sneering face of one among the many who had been previously outside the same door.

"Don't get lost!" The man still calls out despite his obvious dislike as I walk away in confident steps when in reality I kept to the left side of the wall to later retrace back to the starting line.

Not long later I caught sight of a group of people talking cheerfully and my ears pick up two words distinctly, one being doctor and the other weird.

The crowd was made up of seperate people, but in the end when they took notice of an outsider they grew the same head fully ignoring my presence and silently praying for me to go away.

And it made my mission hard to accomplish with only few wanting to listen to me and only handful of them obliging to reply.

"Our Lord rarely leaves the palace, but-" The maid I was questioning after a full five minutes of coaxing hesitated lowering her already soft voice to a whisper. "I have heard from older workers that a few centuries back, our Lord loved visiting earth, but then he suddenly stopped and no one knows why."

"Our Lord is very devoted to his work and hardly ever rests...it might be the reason he shuts himself off in his home."

And in the end it was the thought shared by almost all the helpful souls who I talked to and while I returned to his bedchambers I had my own conclusions. But with little information to diagnose his illness by his reluctance to comply I could only jump between guesses and doubts.

Exhaustion and fatigue was a long standing enemy for the workaholic, sometimes even severely deteriorating their health. But it was not a human being that I was made to treat, but a greek god, so could it really be that simple?

The sturdy guard by the door straightened his posture when I turned the corner coming into his view, and I fought back a smile which I then moulded into a grimace that he met with his own.

I pushed open the door and only after I barge in do I realize my rudeness and pause my steps bracing myself if the god's temper was stroked.

"I am back." I say while noticing two baskets and a basin filled to the brim by water."Your workers brought the things I asked for. I will get to it then." And I had almost gotten used to talking to a stone sculpture.

I go forward and sit on the floor feeling too humble to make use of the fancy furniture and quickly bring out the the things from baskets of silver and order them in a manner that would be frowned upon by perfectionists.

What I needed to prepare was a medicine to bring down the temperature and one for infections just in case. And I get to work, the procedure followed from no manual, but pure instincts.

Not complicated in the least, the process was more of, 'Yeah this might work...mmmm, that can help too...wait those looks good...maybe a bit of that too.' And though knowing the oddity to such skills that never once failed me, I enjoyed it.

Sometime later, soundlessly the velvet curtains were opened from the other side and eyes of hellfire lowered their focus to a hardworking mortal wearing a smile of triumph and eyes like distant stars.

"Why are you willing to treat me?" His voice was deep, his tone serious and even in death my heart stopped beating for a split second before restarting with beats of stampeding horses.

"I want a reward." It was the reason for my forced calmness, the sanity that I was holding onto, a hope that kept me from trying to run away.

"What do you want?"

I wanted to go back home one last time. But I did not tell him outright.

"If I do cure you then I will ask for it and I am finally done." I unfold my crossed legs and stand up carefully holding onto bowl to keep it from spilling, each drop worth an hour and half of effort.

"It's very bitter." I warn knowing the taste myself and hold it out for him to take and curiously watch on as he brings it to his lips to surprisingly take only two gulps without a change of expression, without a crease in his beautiful face.

I close my mouth. "Doesn't it taste bitter, don't you have taste buds?" My nose crunch imagining its unpleasant taste and wonder how he could maintain such composture while most would throw a tantrum and drown half a kilogram of sugar.

"I chose not to taste it."

"Right." I turn away looking down to the floor as the curtains are drawn close before I could retrieve the empty bowl.

And I was vaguely aware of the mess I created but was too egoistic to admit I was a klutz when I hardly find space to let myself down amongst the residues of the former invention littered around without thought.

"Are you some mad scientist?" Like a silent breeze a blue eyed man appears leaning by the door and my heart surges in joy when meeting a friendly face.

"Will."

"Here, the water lily you asked for." He extends his hand holding the flower with a star like bloom by its slender stem and blue eyes wander to the plight of the green tainted floor and then trail to my hair.

"Thanks, this would help me with the bitter problem." I mumble and notice how he did not ask for permission as he entered, and was rather at ease in the room where every other trembled to take a step into.

And as I watch his hand raise to my hair and gently pulls away a tender bud caught between tangled strands.

"Thank you again."

I had finished conveying my gratitude when the same fingers suddenly rush to my hair thoroughly working to leave the ebony strands in disarray.

"Aaaah! You meanie!" I exclaim stepping away from the merciless claws and then he was gone the same way he came.

For a while I stared at where he formerly stood trying to figure out this peculiar blue eyed man but in the end didn't come up with reasonable guesses so I turn back to the bed to catch the god sit up with the curtains pulled up again at some unknown time.

My feet instantly brings me to the bed in long strides while my hands stretched to his powerful shoulders to force them down. But like a boulder he did not budge, a frightening light in the amber eyes of his as he proceeds to grab onto my wrist.

"Sleep."

His gaze turns to me, silent and unimpressed and hence I withdraw crossing my arms with a sheepish smile. "When was the last time you slept?" And like all responsible teachers I was prepared to answer it myself though with a rough figure but he surprises me by replying.

"Four earthly days." His brows raise as if asking, 'so?'

"You have to sleep." I take upon the role of a tired mother trying to feed her picky son vegetables while lying they were weird looking chocolates. "You have to sleep in order for the medicine to take effect."

I feel you mom.

The god's face was placid, devoid of emotions as he wipes away the bitter residues between his lips the colour of cinnabar. "What type of medicine have you made?"

"What a grumpy patient. " I said in an incoherent mumble taking hold of the bowl set down on the bed, but when meeting two deadly frost blades narrowing their gaze I look away rushing to reply in a whisper. "My medicine"

And even when the importance of sleep, its advantages and aesthetics were fully and softly explained, the god did not as much as blink ,much less sleep and thus I was forced to use my ultimate weapon in an uninhibited moment.

"Twinkle, twinkle litle staaar." I start my twist on soap opera, my voice a heavenly symphony.

"How Iii, Wonder whaaat you aare?" And it very soon turned into an action song when I bring my hands to rest over my heart to put emphasis on the dramatics.

"Up above the wooorld soo high."

"Like a diamond-" A hand clamps down over my lips pushing back the words to the pit of my stomach with his strength threatening to unhinge my lower jaw.

"Stop." It was three fourths an irrevocably order and one fourth a plea.

I am good, really good.

The fingers loosen trailing down and away from my skin. "The nerves in your brains are misplaced". And without an another word he softly falls onto to the pillows shutting away the beauty of amber eyes.

"I know"

_________________________________________

Like a passionate stalker I watched him with sparkling eyes hoping to have him irritated enough to never again raise his lashes.

But even when drifting into the realm of sleep, the sharp edges to his features never dulled, like a heavy thought was weighing upon his mind, and sitting by the edges of the bed it felt as though I was peaking over a clif, too curious to back away from the dangers of the steep fall.

And it was almost comical how this being with such refined elegance to each inch of his pale skin clumsily lay sprawled over wrinkled bedding and half open scrolls while the rest of the items bringing to life this bedchambers were meticulously cleaned, but as if the one in charge of the work would only step in when a certain god was away.

And something to it made me picture myself in my bed curled up like if it were a winter night even when the sun's light evaded through the windows and with light steps my mother would walk in with only complains leaving her thin lips of how she wondered whether she gave birth to a human, judging from the bed that was no different from a pigsty.

But when a whine would leave my mouth she would quieten and while juggling her busy schedule would find time to put everything in order, to put back the kicked off pillows in place, to put away the books, to pull up the blankets with a long sigh for the slacker who was her youngest child.

And the number of times when it was only pretence drowsiness to feel the fingers of the sharp mouthed lady tug away my hair was innumerable in memory.

And maybe since the painful facts were kept away from my mind too long, the tears fell like rain when the restrains broke knowing I could no longer go back to the things I love. But I felt thankful that in death I was able to cry, letting the salty tears extinguish the fire in my heart, the pain that came with the faces that would fall in gloom due to my chest that could no longer rise and fall.

I get up with my vision blurred by tears and throat hoarse from sobs and reach out to grasp the scrolls one after the other to place them neatly on an nearby table. And then I round the bed, pulling softly at the bedding to straighten the creases and even reaching down the high baroque headboard to arrage the pillows pilled in disorder.

And I only found satisfaction when the discarded blankets were pulled to his waist tucking him to the warm bed.

The exact reason for such indulgence I did not know but some say people tend to imitate those they miss, a simple act born from the desire to keep them close.

My eyes were swollen, my face undoubtedly flushed when I sat down to put the water lily Will brought to use, but the tears brought with them a lull of drowsiness and the days of sleep deprivation finally caught up, pulling on my tired limbs.

And with sadness I knew sleep wasn't a leisure I could dwell on, not with the consequences it promised. But as the seconds passed, reasoning could no longer hold my head high, no longer keep my lids from drooping and with each blink my alertness wavered and when the bowl slips past my fingers my vision blurs off colour.

But with a sudden sense of clarity I save myself from a fall that would have gained me bruises and willed my tired body onto the closest comfort and I tell myself I would only rest till the dizziness pass, close my eyes for only a few minutes.....

_________________________________________

A sigh leaves crimson lips as amber eyes fall to a small figure burrowed into silk blankets while a crowd gathered at the door with their heads bowed and lashes fluttering in worry.

"We apologise my Lord." They seem to say, their respect and fear evident in hurried wordings. "We truly did not know how to handle the situation. "

By this time my consciousness had cleared but strangely I could not move my body no matter how I tried as if my muscles were asleep, as if my body wasn't my own.

When a few seconds pass with the same outcome I came to realise that I maybe experiencing sleep paralysis caused by my messed up sleeping schedule, the distressing timing making me want to yell, but in the end I was helpless.

"Why is she shivering?"

No one spoke for a long time, and their eyes trail to the bed where lay a sleeping mortal who ran along empty corridors without fear, always with a smile in greeting and it was when they put away their aggravation that they realise how the small creature was trembling with her ten digits clutching onto the mattress like a child holding onto its mother's warmth.

"Why?" Hades asks again unused to the lack of response.

"My Lord her clothes were still wet when we brought her, and the Underworld naturally has low temperature so she must be cold."

"But she finished making the medicine my Lord." A woman's voice rang with intentions clear, her simple words wanting to ease the outcomes of my thoughtless action and I felt my heart grow warm facing this token of kindness.

The god of the Underworld did not reply but something was suddenly thrown harshly at top my body and when the accumulated air escapes the soft blanket, it cascades over my form yet barely covering my legs.

I wanted to laugh but yet I was sober and had not fully thought through of the god's gesture when another guard put forward with unresolved confusion while the rest including the woman who previously spoke was struck dumb. "Lord if you grant me permission I will remove her off your Highness's bed."

Remove? I wanted to frown, even run away on my own accord with a short goodbye, but I could only wait for the final judgement with an itch of wanting to know why the King bothered with his former actions.

Everyone seemed to be awaiting his response with keen attention but startling my senses the bed dip as the sheets are forcefully pulled away from my left hand bringing me to believe I was to be pushed off the bed by the god himself and my heart starts to hammer in its cage.

But then there was a pause, brief yet noticeable before I felt the warmth of his hand over mine as he positions it under the covers and then slowly reach out for the other, only this time unfurling the tightly curled fingers with his own.

And when warm fingertips without calluses to tell the tale of time trace the darkened skin under my sleep pooled eyes, I no longer knew what to think of the amber eyed god.

"Let her sleep."