The office was quiet.
Too quiet.
Sebastian Wolfe already was already walking towards Lillian when a faint thud caught his attention.
He looked up sharply.
Lillian.
She had been walking toward him with a stack of papers, but now her legs buckled under her.
"Lillian!"
He moved faster than he thought possible.
In one swift motion, he caught her.
Her body was limp in his arms.
The papers scattered across the floor.
Her head lolled slightly against his chest.
"Hey. Hey, stay with me," he said, his voice low but firm.
Her green eyes fluttered weakly, barely conscious.
Sebastian's mind raced.
The moment didn't allow hesitation.
He carried her carefully across the office.
The polished marble floor echoed under his steps.
He reached his office.
He laid her gently on the couch, adjusting her slightly so she would be comfortable.
Her blonde hair fanned across the cushions, damp with sweat.
Sebastian noticed immediately how hot she was.
Far too hot.
Her pulse was faint but rapid.
Her breathing shallow.
He ripped his coat from the back of the chair and slid it under her head like a makeshift pillow.
"You're burning up," he murmured.
Lillian groaned softly, eyes half-lidded, barely aware of her surroundings.
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
He moved to his desk and picked up a glass of water he hadn't yet touched.
It felt heavy in his hand, but more than that, it felt urgent.
He knelt beside the couch, looking at her face.
"You need to drink something," he said gently.
She barely stirred.
Her lips parted slightly.
"I… I can't…" she whispered weakly.
Sebastian's heart clenched.
"I know," he said softly.
"I see that. But you have to."
She groaned again, her head flopping slightly against the coat.
Her body was heavy, weak from fever.
He knew she couldn't do it herself.
And he couldn't leave her like this.
He brought the glass closer to her lips.
She gave a tiny, pitiful groan, shaking her head faintly.
Sebastian's mind raced.
There was only one way.
He took a small sip of the water himself.
He held it in his mouth, letting it gather at the front, carefully controlling it.
Then, leaning close, he pressed his lips to hers.
The water transferred from his mouth into hers.
She instinctively parted her lips.
Her eyes widened slightly at the surprise, but she swallowed the water without realizing what had just happened.
Sebastian pulled back slightly, watching her carefully.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted.
He almost smiled at her unconscious trust in him.
"You really are stubborn," he murmured under his breath.
A quiet groan escaped her lips.
Sebastian adjusted the coat under her head again, smoothing it gently.
"Shh," he said.
"Just relax. Drink a little more in a minute. Let me help you."
Her lips moved slightly, weak and unformed.
He tilted the glass again and took another sip.
This time he pressed his lips to hers for a second time, letting the water slip into her mouth again.
She swallowed automatically, eyes still heavy, completely unaware of how the water had reached her.
Sebastian exhaled quietly, relieved that she was hydrated.
"You're too stubborn," he whispered again, just for himself this time.
Her hand twitched slightly and rested against his.
He held it gently, letting her rest.
"You feel hot," he said quietly.
"I can feel it through my hands. We need to get that fever down."
She groaned softly, barely audible.
Sebastian brushed her hair back from her forehead.
"You'll be okay," he said.
"Just stay still. I've got you."
Even kneeling beside her, he felt how fragile she was, how small in his arms.
His heart clenched.
He realized he liked her.
More than he expected.
More than he should.
But right now, the only thought that mattered was keeping her safe.
He tilted the glass once more, taking another small sip himself.
Then, carefully, he pressed his lips to hers for the third time, letting more water slip into her mouth.
This time she stirred slightly, blinking, almost conscious.
Sebastian pulled back slowly.
"You're doing well," he murmured.
Her lips parted slightly as she groaned again, too weak to say more.
He brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, looking at her with something closer to affection than he had ever shown anyone.
"You really are impossible," he whispered again, almost under his breath.
Even if she didn't realize the kiss had been necessary to give her water, Sebastian knew.
He knew he'd do it again if he had to.
Because he couldn't let her suffer.
And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to do it again—even without necessity.
She shifted slightly on the couch, her eyelids drooping again.
He wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulders, holding her close, careful not to press too hard against her fevered skin.
"You're safe," he murmured.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Her fingers weakly intertwined with his.
Her warmth pressed against him.
He could feel the faint rise and fall of her chest.
Each breath shallow, each one precious.
He adjusted the glass on the nearby desk, ready if she needed another sip.
But for now, he let her rest, letting the silence stretch between them.
In that quiet moment, he realized how much he cared for her.
How much he needed her—not just in these crisis moments, but always.
He could see it in the way she trusted him without thinking.
The way she had always believed in him, even when she didn't have to.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, something warm and unguarded.
And she didn't even notice.
He brushed her hair back again, leaning closer.
"Just rest," he whispered.
"Let me take care of you."
She groaned again, relaxing slightly into his arms.
And for the first time, Sebastian let himself linger in the thought: maybe he didn't need to be alone anymore.
Maybe she was the one he wanted.
The one he had always been too stubborn to admit.
And if helping her meant kissing her to keep her hydrated, then he would do it.
Again.
And again.
Because he wasn't letting her go—not this time.
And in that moment, kneeling beside her on the couch, he silently vowed he never would.