His eyes are droopy, his face flushed. Pursing my lips, I get to my feet and grab some paper towels, folding them together in a thick layer. I quickly wet them before I bring them to his forehead, gently tapping the makeshift cold compress across his skin.

"It's the meat, isn't it? Do you need to throw up?"

He lets out a mumbled, unintelligible sound.

"Is that a yes?" I ask, ready to help him move to the toilet.

He shakes his head lightly.

"I'll be fine," he finally says in a ragged tone.

"You don't look fine." I sigh, softly pressing the cold compress to his cheek. I slowly move it around his face. He's a little hot to the touch, but he doesn't seem like he's running a fever.

He's leaning against the wall, his head tipped back, his mouth slightly parted. His breathing is labored, and every inhale and exhale is rough and pained.

Worry mounts inside me as I don't know what I can do to help him. Should I call Cer? He seemed to know what to do with Thea. Maybe he can help Ze too.

"I should ask the others for help," I murmur.

"No," Ze rasps, catching my arm and stopping my movements. He wraps his fingers around my wrist, his hold soft but firm. "I told you I will be fine. It's just a slight inconvenience," he grits out.

His gaze pins me to the spot, lucid and unyielding.

"Cer helped Thea. I'm sure he could help you too⁠—"

"No," he repeats. His eyes on mine, he studies me with a strange glint.

I raise my brows in question, rotating my hand in his grasp as I attempt to pull it back. He doesn't let go, however. Instead, he tightens his grip, pulling me closer.

"Why are you being nice to me?" he asks, his breath fanning my face. His voice is crisp and clear, a contrast to his previous mumblings.

"What do you mean?" I frown, trying to pull back.

"This... Why are you being nice to me?" he repeats. His expression is puzzled, his gaze searching for an ineffable something in my features.

"Why would I not be nice to you?" I counter. Sure, he might be a surly asshole who doesn't know how not to be rude, but he's not that bad. He might have attitude problems, but his actions so far have proven that he means well. And I'd rather judge someone by their actions than their words.

"No one else is," he states with a straight face. His voice doesn't falter. He truly means it.

"What about Thea and Cer? They're nice to you."

He snorts.

"They tolerate me. That is a different matter."

"How can you think that?" I blink in shock. Even to me, it's clear that Cer cares for Ze, and according to Thea, he respects and admires him.

He narrows his eyes at me.