The drive to my house was unusually quiet, with the gentle hum of the engine being the only sound as Jake focused on the road. My thoughts wandered, exhausted and foggy, while I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by. It wasn't long before we arrived at my house, and Jake helped me inside.

Once we were in the entryway, Jake followed me up the stairs to my room. I trudged in, feeling every bit of my exhaustion catch up with me. As soon as I reached my bed, I flopped down, the mattress providing a welcome comfort against my tired body. I reached for my phone on the nightstand, eager to check messages and distract myself, but Jake was quicker. He snatched it from the table and held it up, out of my reach.

"Stay off it," Jake said firmly, holding the phone above his head with one hand while supporting his arm with the other.

"No," I protested, trying to sit up.

"Wren," he said, his tone serious but gentle.

"It's my phone," I retorted, trying to sound defiant but feeling too worn out to argue effectively.

"Birdie," Jake said, looking at me with a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Fine," I conceded reluctantly, sinking back into the bed.

"Good. Now I'm going to leave the room. You change into something comfortable, and I'll come back in, okay?" Jake said, giving me a reassuring nod.

"Fine," I agreed, watching as he walked out of the room, taking my phone with him. I heard the door click shut and immediately began the process of changing into more suitable sleepwear. I slipped into a pair of pink silk pajama pants and a black tank top. The tank top was a bit loose, so I tucked it into my pants and tied the waistband to keep everything in place.

Once I was dressed, I called out to Jake, letting him know he could come back in. He returned shortly, and I reached out to grab my phone, but he pulled it away just out of reach.

"Wren, no," Jake said, his tone firm.

"Wren, yes," I argued, reaching for the phone.

"No," Jake insisted, gently pushing me back onto the bed.

I landed with a soft thud, shooting him a glare. "You're not getting on your phone, okay? You need to rest."

"Well, what if I get on it when you leave?" I challenged.

"Then I'm not leaving," Jake said with a shrug, which only made me more frustrated.

"That's creepy," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really," Jake replied, unphased.

"Jake, just give me my phone," I pleaded, trying to sit up.

"No, Wren," Jake said firmly.

"Then I'm not going to sleep," I said stubbornly.

Jake sighed in resignation. "Fine."

He handed me my phone with a slight roll of his eyes and walked into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to check my notifications briefly, but just as I was about to dive into the digital world, a violent coughing fit took over. I gasped for air, my chest tightening with each hack. Jake reappeared from the bathroom with a concerned look, holding a small cup of what I assumed was medicine.

"What is this?" I asked, eyeing the cup warily.

"Just take it," Jake said, his voice soft but commanding.

"Are you trying to poison me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"No, it's cough medicine, dummy," he said with a hint of exasperation.

"Fine," I said, taking the cup from him. I sipped the medicine, the taste not as bad as I'd feared. "Are you staying?"

"Why?" Jake asked, looking genuinely curious.

"Because I don't like being sick and alone," I confessed, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I'm scared that something will happen and no one will be here to help."

"Yeah, I can stay," Jake said, his tone softening with understanding.

"Good," I replied, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I patted the spot next to me on the bed. "Come on, sit with me."

Jake settled down next to me, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat. We were close enough that I could feel his warmth, which was comforting. I adjusted the covers, making sure we were both comfortable. The room was quiet except for the occasional creak of the house settling and my intermittent coughing.

As I lay there, I felt the tension slowly leaving my body. Having Jake there made me feel safer and less alone in my misery. His presence was a reassuring constant, and I found comfort in the simple act of having someone there with me.

"Thanks for staying," I said softly, my voice muffled by the pillow.

"Anytime," Jake replied, his voice steady and comforting.