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Summary
“Hero I’m just coming to check on your condition, it’s the least I can do.” He heard the door unlock for him, no protests as he stepped in and shut it behind him either. “There, was that so hard? I know you try to suffer in silence but I owe you everything, I only want to h-” The Exarch paused as he set the tray down, his nose finally catching the scent in the air. Arousal- not illness. By the Twelve, it went right to his head, leaving his cheeks flushed to match the color of his hair back in his youth. “You- you’re not ill at all are you?”
Or:
The Crystal Exarch finds the Warrior of Darkness in the middle of his heat and decides to help him out, realizes entirely too late that he's not really a Tia anymore.