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"The cold compress you asked for, Mr. Milverton." The young man said as he approached Milverton who was lying in the bed and tried to not cough. Now, as his secretary stepped to him, he looked up and unnoticeably rolled his eyes. I didn't ask for a compress, he thought. His fever was not high enough to make it necessary so it would only make his hair wet and cause more annoyance than he currently had. But he didn't say this out loud. He just nodded.
"Good, Ruskin."
"May I place it on your forehead, sir?" Ruskin asked and Milverton could see that his fingers were trembling from the urge to do something.
"You may." Milverton gave the permission and closed his eyes, bearing the compress that his overhyped secretary placed onto his head. He didn't need the compress. He didn't need anything else, just rest. But Ruskin was too worried to understand it.
The young man was only working for him for a few months. He was a skilled and loyal assistant, the best Milverton could have got. Milverton could see it clearly that Ruskin was worshipping jim, maybe he even had a crush on him and this didn't bother him too much - after all, this just made him more devoted. He already had a grasp of what Ruskin's only mistake was - his overly worried personality when it came to Milverton. But he could never foresee how this worry would increase if he falls ill. This was the first time Milverton got sick since Ruskin was in his service. Milverton liked suffering on his own when he was weak to not seem pathetic in front of other people, but his solitude was clearly not a thing for Ruskin in his current state. Even after Milverton asked him to withdraw, even after he told him that he had no orders for him, Ruskin stayed near and kept bringing up suggestions on how to make Milverton feel better. One of these things was the cold compress what he just placed onto his forehead.
"Is it fine, sir?" Ruskin asked in a doubtful voice. "Isn't it too cold?"
"It is fine. Thank you." Milverton immediately reassured his secretary before he would go and make a new one. I don't need anything else, he was about to say, but before the words could leave his mouth, Ruskin spoke again.
"Right, sir. Then I will go and make a herbal tea for you. It will be good for your throat." He noted. But my throat doesn't even ache, Milverton wanted to remark, but he didn't say anything in the end. He just nodded again and watched as the young man left his room.
He let out a sigh. He was finally on his own.
But he was aware that he would not stay alone for too long. He knew that Ruskin would come back to act overhyped around him like a hen around its chicken. Milverton closed his eyes. He had no idea why his secretary was so attached to him. He was the incarnation of pure evil who should not be loved by anyone. But for some reason, he meant a lot for Ruskin - enough to remain on his side and overreact everything when he was sick.
He soon heard that the door opened. He looked up and saw that the young man came back. There was a mug in his hands.
"Your tea, Mr. Milverton." He said gently while he placed it down on the bedside cupboard. "It will make you feel better. My grandma always made this tea for me when I was sick as a child."
"Really?" Milverton murmured, then his eyes widened when he felt a touch on his shoulder. Ruskin placed his hand down on it in a fatherly manner and his eyes were sparkling from the devotion and the worry while he spoke.
"I promise that I will cure you, Mr. Milverton. I will not leave you alone until you are completely healthy."
Milverton didn't doubt that. He could see it well in the sparks in Ruskin's brown gaze. Itmade him feel less annoyed all of a sudden. His secretary might be overly worried, but at least, he can be sure that Ruskin will not let him die, either in a sickness or due to something else.
And he valued this loyalty enough to not say anything when he started drinking the bitter and hot tea.