Zephyr's eyes gently opened, his gaze met with the familiar face. His mother Iris sat on a chair beside his room bed. Her eyes wide with panic. Her palms wrapped around his, warm, but trembling.
“Zephyr,” Iris called when she noticed he'd regained consciousness. She squeezed his hands briefly, then touched his forehead. “You’re still burning up,” she said.
Her breathe was ragged. She reached for a little towel inside the bucket, squeezed the water out of the towel and draped it on Zephyr's forehead.
The warmth momentarily relieved the pain Zephyr was feeling. But Iris never stopped, her hands were trembling with fear.
She took the towel, attempting to deep it back into the water.
Zephyr slowly reached for her hand. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, holding her steady gaze.
“M
