Daisy sipped her warm milk carefully, though her eyes kept sneaking sideways to where Theo sat. He had been unusually quiet ever since she woke up.
"Are you angry at me?" Daisy asked.
Theo turned slightly and shook his head. "Why would I be mad at someone who's sick?"
"Just asking… because you're not talking much."
"You told me not to talk too much because you couldn't take it…"
She gasped. "Ah… so it is because of me. You can talk, you know… it feels awkward eating in silence."
But instead of replying, he suddenly stood and walked toward the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a cup of her favorite drink—ice-blended vanilla.
Daisy's eyes widened. "Can I drink this? I mean… I just recovered from the fever…"
Theo set the cup down in front of her, the condensation beading on the plastic like it had just been pulled from a café counter.
"It's fine," he said, pulling out the chair again but not sitting immediately. "Just don't finish it in one go."
