::Disclaimer: Gorgeous Carat belongs to You Higuri.::

"Nnnnn," Florian mumbled as he shifted under the bedcovers, his eyelids fluttering and finally opening. He blinked slowly and turned his head, still not fully awake.

Ray sat on the edge of the bed and lightly smoothed unruly hair away from Florian's forehead. "Hi."

"Hmm?" Florian blink at him, then smiled. "Hi."

"Want some water?" Ray picked up the crystal pitcher from his nightstand and half-filled a small water glass. He held it while Florian sat up, still disoriented, but slowly gaining awareness. "Not too fast," Ray cautioned when Florian all but drained the glass in one long swallow.

"Thank you." Florian returned the glass with a shy smile. He scanned his surroundings and looked at Ray in confusion. "Where am I?"

"My room. My doctor paid you a visit and this room is more convenient for him." Ray glossed over the details, leaving Florian to remember what he could of the last few hours, and sparing him the rest.

"Oh." Florian blushed lightly and looked down, gripping the thick comforter. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. I'll go." He started to push the bedding aside but Ray stopped him.

"You have to tell me when you're ill." Ray's voice was almost cold, but there was a tremor underneath that made Florian look at him curiously. "The doctor left strict orders for you and I'm going to make sure that you follow them to the letter. Is that clear?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize! Just make sure it never happens again." Ray stomped over to his wardrobe and pulled out a heavy dressing gown. He tossed it down onto the bed. "Wear that until I get you one of your own; the one you have now isn't warm enough."

Florian stroked the rich material appreciatively before sliding out of bed and picking it up. It was too long, nearly brushing the floor, and it practically wrapped around him twice, but it was warm and very comfortable.

"Thank you," he told Ray sincerely. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble." His expression made it clear that he remembered most if not all that had happened a few hours earlier.

Ray wasn't sure if Florian was blushing again or if the fever was getting worse. He pressed the back of his hand to Florian's forehead and frowned. "The doctor said you needed some fresh air and food. We'll take a walk through the garden and by the time we get back inside, Laila will have the table ready."

"I'm not really hungry..."

"The doctor said you needed to eat. Do you plan on contradicting him?"

Ray's expression made it clear how he'd react to any disobedience so Florian shook his head and looked down at his feet.

"I need my shoes."

"Jameson will get them. Now get yourself ready and meet me downstairs in the back hall. I need to talk to Laila."

Florian nodded and retreated to Ray's bathroom to freshen up. By the time he reached the correct door, Ray was waiting, as were Florian's shoes.

"Ten minutes," Ray called to Laila before he ushered Florian outside.

It was late afternoon and sunny with a pleasant breeze. Florian turned his face into the wind and breathed deeply, the fresh air making him feel less groggy and unwell.

They strolled one of the garden paths at a speed that would normally make Ray impatient, but he kept the pace easy, seemingly content to look at the flowers and ornamental bushes. There were several statues placed throughout the moderately-sized flower garden, and a few more scattered around the lawn and near large shade trees. He led Florian to the closest one, pointing out the pair of benches almost hidden in the shadows.

"I don't get out here as often as I should," he commented in a way that made Florian wonder if it was directed to him or if Ray was talking to himself. Rather than guess, he simply murmured an agreement and studied his surroundings.

It wasn't the largest of yards but the row of trees along the property line gave it a sense of calm and privacy, reminiscent of the gardens on his family's estate. Florian turned to look back at the flowerbeds, noting how different and unrestrained they seemed compared to his mother's carefully planned and controlled gardens. A true reflection of their owners, he mused.

"I'm not a gardener," Ray muttered, thinking Florian was laughing at him.

"It's lovely, nonetheless," Florian assured him. "I hadn't really looked at these gardens before now. They are quite nice." He couldn't resist adding, "I'll be sure to compliment Laila."

"Laila! That woman couldn't tell a daisy from a rose." Ray pouted. "All the money I spend on a gardener."

"You do not. I heard you telling Jameson to handle it."

"Are you volunteering?" Ray hid a grin as he pictured a sweaty, dirt-streaked Florian kneeling in the flowerbed.

"You like weeds that much, do you?" Florian countered lightly, disrupting Ray's imaginings. They were facing each other now, smiling slightly as they bickered.

"Don't tell me you don't dabble in roses like a proper little lord."

"For your information, I wasn't allowed near mother's precious roses. Not since I was six and clipped off the biggest blooms to make a crown for the housekeeper's cat." Florian colored a little at the memory, but he was smiling softly.

Ray laughed and shook his head. It was exactly the kind of thing he could imagine Florian doing. "Well, the only cats around here are strays - which I know you've been feeding by the way. I don't think any of them need crowns."

"Perhaps not," Florian agreed, following Ray as the younger man started back towards the mansion. "But they could use more food..."

Ray groaned and shook his head, wondering how long it would be before he was feeding all the stray cats in Paris.

:::end part 4:::