Erik woke up with the most unexciting feeling he ever felt. Ever since the sudden phone call with Tiffany's father the day before, his good mood dropped. Added to the fact that he had not seen Jessica's face all day, it could never end better.

Erik yawned, stretching his body across the bed and just laid there for a few more minutes. Erik would really wanted to get back to sleep but as if his body had memorized his daily routine, it refused to rest. Just a couple of minutes later, Erik got up from his bed and freshened himself. He hummed when he saw the bruise on his cheek getting smaller, and he sighed in relief. "Just going to take a few days more to heal." He mumbled and resumed washing his face.

On his way to the kitchen, he heard muffled coughs from on the other side of Tiffany's door. He halted his steps and took a few steps back to listen to the sound closer. There were more muffled coughs followed after that. Erik frowned. He then remembered Tiffany's father did mentioned about Tiffany's low immunity in her body, which means that even a drop of rain reaching her skin, she would get the worst of cold.

Erik sighed and shook his head before he balled his fist to knock on Tiffany's door. Three times are good, he thought and waited. "Tiffany." He called the girl. There were exactly three consecutives coughs and he frowned again. "Is she bedridden?" he mumbled under his breath. Erik knocked again, this time louder followed with him calling her.

Erik waited again, counting exactly sixty seconds, before he turned the knob. "Tiffa—" he trailed off when he saw the large lump under the comforter. He rushed to the side of the bed and poked the lump. "Hey, you feeling okay?"

The sound of loud, dry coughs answered him. His instinct surfaced and with a swift yet gentle tug, Tiffany was revealed, curling like a cooked shrimp. Her face was red, however she was shivering and her lips trembled. Erik's heart tugged at the side and without asking, he sat on her bed, placing the back of his hand on her forehead. "God! You're burning!"

"I'm cold. Cover me back." Tiffany said, her voice was timid and shaky.

Erik frowned. "You can't cover yourself up. The heat will make your fever worse." He said, sounding stern with a hint of gentleness. The state Tiffany was in that moment reminded him so much of his little sister. "Come on, get up. Sit at the couch outside and wait for me while I make a porridge for you. God…you're really burning now." He said, getting up and pulled Tiffany's arms.

The girl whined with her eyes still closed. There were tears at the corner of her eyes, the result of the heat her body emanated. Erik clenched his jaw, her stubbornness resembled so much to his little sister. "Don't be stubborn. Your father wouldn't want to hear this." He threatened.

Tiffany finally opened her droopy eyes but it was not long before she shut it tight and more tears poured out. "Don't tell him, you asshole." She grumbled, and then groaned as she got up from the bed.

Seeing her struggled to stand still on her feet, Erik grabbed hold of her elbow, in an attempt to help her. Tiffany yanked his hand away and staggered her way to the door. She was fine until her legs failed her and she fell on the floor. It was all too fast, the next thing Erik knew was Tiffany sobbing and whining.

"Next time when I try to help you, just let me." Erik said, and then effortlessly picked her up in his arms. "Are you usually like this whenever you have fever?"

There was no sound from the girl, just a shrug and a slow sigh. Her very warm breath hit his skin it made him shiver. "When I was a little girl, my daddy used to lift me up like this…"

Erik looked down at the girl in his arms as she buried her face on his chest. It felt ticklish but he ignored it and focused on putting Tiffany down gently on the couch. "Well, you're a big girl now, so your daddy wouldn't be able to lift you up. Besides, you're quite heavy." He said, placing a pillow under Tiffany's head.

The girl did not respond to his last words and just whined weakly that sounded more like a weak puppy's whimper. Tiffany was thankful that Erik was good enough to even help her move. "You're not going to class today?" she asked in a whisper.

"Class starts at ten today. It's still early." Erik answered as he walked to the kitchen, and started to prepare the right ingredient for the porridge he was going to make. "It's going to take a while so just wait a moment." He said, rummaging the kitchen. I'm going to need mother's help for this, he thought, as he scratched his head.

Erik pulled out his phone and immediately pressed the speed dial to his mother's number. A few ringing tones later his call was picked up. "Mother."

"Erik! What a surprise to hear you calling me early in this lovely morning!"

He knew his mother was being sarcastic and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Good morning to you too, mother." He grumbled as his eyes went to Tiffany who fell asleep on the couch. "Listen, mother…I got to ask you something."

"What is it? Anything serious?"

Erik hummed. "No. Not really." He sighed, "Remember the porridge you used to make whenever I had fever?"

His mother hummed in respond. "Yes, yes. I do remember. You loved that porridge when you were a little boy." She giggled, "…and still is."

"I know. It was the best." Erik chuckled, remembering how his mother used to make a full pot of it and how his appetite seemed increased whenever she cooked the porridge. At that moment, his heart tugged at the thought of being home with his family. However, there was something more important than that at that moment.

"Why are you asking about that all of a sudden?"

His mother's voice brought him out of his trip down the memory lane and he immediately remembered the reason why he called his mother. "Yeah, about that…can you tell me the ingredients and the exact way you cooked it? My friend's down with a fever so I gotta feed 'em some magic porridge by Mary."

Erik heard the old woman laughed aloud and upon hearing that, he laughed too. "You've such a smart mouth, you better be careful with women." She said, in the midst of her laughter. When she stopped, his mother hummed from the other line before he heard her chuckled. "Oh my dear…it's the same as the chicken porridge you always cook for your sister."

"Oh? Is it?" his brows raised. "But it doesn't taste the same and beside I don't put any herbs in it like you did." He said.

His mother laughed. "Well, I don't too. The ingredients to my porridge is the same as the ingredients of your porridge. It's all the same." She explained. "The only different in it is the taste. That's what you noticed, didn't you?"

Erik nodded and hummed. "Yes but if it's all the same, what makes the taste so different from yours?"

"Oh sweetheart…" she called him gently, "Have you ever heard of 'the food that's made with love beats it all'?"

"No. What about it?"

"You might think it sounds funny…but I put all my love and care for you in that porridge. You don't taste the love, you feel it."

Erik made the same exact porridge he made with the thought of his mother filling his mind. Ever since the last call he made to her, the words about her 'secret ingredient' in making the porridge stuck in his head. He hate to admit it but his heart yearned for his mother's warmth and hearing his mother's voice in that phone call drilled a hole in his heart.

He sighed, shoulders slumped. "You can't be like this! Just a few more months!" he said to himself as his hands transferred the porridge into a bowl.

Erik placed the bowl on the tray, along with the ginger tea, before he brought it to coffee table. "Tiffany, wake up and eat this." He called her. "Wait, I forgot the spoon."

After he came back from the kitchen, he sighed when he saw Tiffany was still sleeping on the couch. Erik shook his head, and then kneeled on the floor, beside the sleeping girl. "Tiffany…" he shook her body gently. "Wake up…"

Several shakes later, Tiffany finally moved and opened her eyes. She whined, rubbing her eyes before weakly lifting up her body to sit properly. After a few minutes of adjusting her eyes to the light, Tiffany finally noticed Erik who was kneeling on the floor, and the bowl and cup on the coffee table. "You cooked?"

Erik hummed and nodded in respond. "Go ahead and eat it. If you need anything, just call me." He said and went to his room, leaving her in her hidden awe.

The sweet and tangy aroma of the porridge entered her nostrils and her stomach grumbled in respond. Putting all her energy to even move, Tiffany reached for the bowl. The moment her hands tried to lift up the spoon, it slid out of her hold and fell back on the tray. Fortunately, she managed to only lift it up for a few inches off the tray before it fell. Tiffany sighed and leaned back into the couch. She could only looked at the bowl of porridge with longing and dealt with the increasing storm in her stomach.

Just before she could fell back into sleep, Erik got out of his room. The boy frowned when he saw Tiffany just sitting on the couch and the bowl untouched, along with the cup of ginger tea. "Why aren't you eating?" he asked, frowning. Is she protesting because she hates me? He thought.

"I can't lift it up. Can't even grip the spoon." She said, pouting as she frowned in discomfort.

Erik sighed, hiding his smile as he felt relieve washing over him. "Why didn't you call for my help?" he asked as he went to Tiffany and sat on the floor. Erik then reached for the bowl and stirred it gently with the spoon.

"You heard me talking." Tiffany said, sighing.

Erik grinned, feeling foolish all of a sudden. "Fine. Come here, I'll feed you." He said, pulling his sleeves before scooping a little amount of it into the spoon. "Don't complain if it's not up to your taste." Tiffany did not said anything but opened her mouth instead, and ate the porridge he fed her.

Tiffany nodded weakly, eyebrows cocked. "Tastes good! Never knew you could cook." She exclaimed softly and went for another bite.

"Of course you don't. You've never existed in this flat whenever I cook." He said, laughing.

"And why's that?"

"Because I don't want this certain moocher ate my food." Erik grinned, and laughed when he saw Tiffany rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah, says the bigger moocher himself, who ate my favourite puddings, my favourite ice-cream, and even my favourite hard-to-find cheesesticks."

Erik laughed and nodded his head. "Well, I'm sorry for that, honestly, but you can't blame me when you've been stealing my juices and milk all these while." He exclaimed. "In the end, we're just the same."

Just when they thought they would never get along, there they were, laughing and talking as if they never had any feud between them. Call it a miracle, or a blessing in disguise, Erik's porridge was the very cause of this event.

You could say that it was a miraculous turn of situation.

"You don't have the intention to go your class today?" Tiffany asked when she saw the time displayed on her phone.

"Nope. Can't leave you here alone while you're too sick and too shaky to move. Can't risk getting beaten up by that big brother of yours." He said, shivering at the thought of dying in her brother's hands. Erik pulled the bottom of his shirt out of his shorts before plopping himself beside Tiffany. "Besides, it's only maths."

Tiffany's eyes widened. "It's only maths? Are you kidding me? Isn't that subject supposed to be the killer subject for engineering students?" she asked in disbelief after seeing Erik's casualness.

"Yeah. But like I said, I'm a man of my words. Your father asked me to take care of you so I am doing what he asked me to. Don't fret it, I got Maddox to help me get the notes." He said, snatching the remote from Tiffany's hand and flicked the current channel to a cartoon channel.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"'Hey! I was watching that!'" Erik mocked her. He laughed when Tiffany attempted to hit him. "Wow, that's ticklish! Do it again." He said, inciting Tiffany.

The girl groaned and turned to Erik before kicking him off the couch. The boy fell onto the floor and cursed. "You're quite strong for someone who claimed she can't move a muscle. Unbelievable."

Tiffany just scoffed and ignored his remark as she stretched her legs across the couch; taking all the space she could to prevent Erik from sitting next to her. After that, silence ensued them and the only sound that resounding in the flat was the low humming of the air purifier and heater, along with the low volume of the television.

A few hours later, another sound came. Erik looked at the source of the light snore and chuckled when he saw Tiffany sleeping soundly. Gently, he laid the back of his hand on her forehead to check her temperature and was glad when she was not as warm as she was before.

Seeing her sleeping in an awkward position, Erik shook his head. "Tiffany, go sleep in your room." He shook her body gently, waking her up. "Tiffany."

The girl stirred in her sleep and yawned.

"Oh God…you're—" Erik groaned, frowning at the sight of Tiffany opening her mouth so wide. "Hey sleepyhead, get up and go to your room."

Erik sighed in annoyance when Tiffany did not heed his words and instead, went back to sleep. Thinking of the last resort, he picked up the girl with ease and slumped her on his shoulder as if she was a sack of grain. "That should teach you."

Tiffany yelled for him to put her down but her threats fell of deaf ear and before she knew it, she was on her bed, sitting at the edge of it and Erik's figure towered over her. Tiffany pushed him by his stomach and glared at the boy who had ruthlessly manhandled her. "You're such an asshole."

"Thank you. You're just the same. Now either you go back to your beauty sleep or you want to bath away the heat, it's up to you. You're on your own for this." Erik said, bending his back until their eyes were on par with each other, "…but just call me if you need me. Your phone's on your nightstand."

After that, he got out of her room and lightly pulled the door until it almost closed. Seeing her door slightly opened, Tiffany sighed. Her perception on him changed suddenly in a matter of a few hours. When she thought about it again, that day was the first day they actually spent with each other longer than most.

Tiffany did not even realize that the muscles in her cheeks moved on their own as they worked their way to form a small smile on her face.

Erik rushed to the front door when he heard the loud knocks. "Coming!" he yelled.

The moment he opened the door, his eyes landed on the pretty girl in front of him. "Hi, Jessi!" he greeted her cheerfully, "come on in!"

The girl giggled and stepped into the shared unit. "Hello, Erik. Is Tiffany still sick?"

Erik smiled, and shrugged as he gestured Tiffany's room. "She's sleeping I think. Had a fever." He said and led Jessica to Tiffany's room. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Jessica shook her head, "It's alright. I understand. She can be quite a hassle to take care of when she's sick but then, that's the only time she'll be quite decent to you." She said before leaving Erik standing by Tiffany's bedroom door with a small smile on his face.

Well, what Jessica said was quite true considering that Tiffany seemed to be quite tame. For now.