"What do you mean you're not ill? Anyone can get sick, Ana…" Kate ran a hand over my forehead and quickly pulled it back in disgust from the sticky layer of sweat that lined my blotchy face. "That's gross. You look gross. You smell gross. Don't go to work, or Christian freaking Grey will find you gross, and then I will never get to meet you're beautiful non-gross children. Will I?" She stared at me in the door frame with an eyebrow raised, not letting me past her.

"Kate…" I sniffled and used another tissue to wipe my nose. "Please. You know what I'm like. I will go crazy sat here by myself all day. Let me go. Please." I turned away and coughed slightly as she pushed me back down on the bed.

"Not a chance. I will call Andrea and let her know you are on death's door. You will get in bed and stay there or so help me, Anastasia—" I glared at her and instantly she knows why.

"I'm not going to do anything if you talk to me like that. It's Ana or nothing." I rolled my eyes and sulkily led myself back in bed.

"Alright, nothing, keep your pants on." Kate shuts the door gently behind her as my head collided once again with the pillow.

It had been just over three weeks after my first day with Christian, yet surprisingly our relationship hadn't moved too far since then. I'm not saying that we stopped talking indefinitely, the emails were frequent, but work related, he would text me, but nothing flirtatious. What did I do? What happened to the man I met on my first day? These questions whizzed around my mind and is maybe what has turned my to this god-awful sickness, that and a lack of motivation to look after oneself. Possibly work overload. As I go through the checklist of things that could have possibly made me ill, the more obvious it seems that it was coming to me. I am snapped out of my trance by a knock at the door. Kate soon poked her head through and whispered.

"Andrea said to get well soon. I have got to get going. Promise me you'll eat something, Ana? I know what you're like at the best of times—" I cut her off.

"I am fine, Kate. I can look after myself. Go to work already." I shoo her away and with a smile she closing the door again. With a sigh, I began to drift off into a cold slumber before a piercing buzz came from my phone on the bed-side table. I did try to ignore it, honestly I did, before it buzzed again. And again. And again. Furiously, I grabbed the phone and read the message, however a flood of joy went over me as I saw the word Christian, blink across the screen.

From: Christian Grey

Ana, are you alright? Andrea said you were ill.

From: Christian Grey

Ana? You there?

From: Christian Grey

I need you. Reply!

Andrea can't have got that message to him only two minutes ago, yet he texted so quickly? He needs me? He probably just has some work for me to do.

From: Ana Steele

Hi. Sorry. Yes. Sick. It's gross. Have you got some work for me?

I didn't even have time to put the phone down.

From: Christian Grey

Definitely not! You are forbidden to do any work. Hang on. I will call you.

True to his word, I soon get a call from him.

"Ana?"

"Hi." I sit up in bed and sniffle slightly.

"Where is your carer? Put them on the phone."

"Carer? Christian? What are you on? I don't have a bloody carer. I'm not the bloody Queen of England." I probably should have mentioned that I get very irritable when ill. Oops.

"So nobody is looking after you?"

"No, of course not."

"Alright. I will be there in about 10 minutes. Depends on the traffic. Do you need anything?"

"Hang on, what? No. You're not coming over. You have work to do."

"No. I'm coming over. I need my Editor back as soon as possible and that isn't going to happen if nobody is looking after you."

"Christian—"

"No. I will be over shortly." He hung up the phone and I am left speechless. I do not need him over here breathing down my neck. I groan and cuddle up with the duvet and soon enough I am asleep.

A pulsing throb across my head awakes me. I glance wearily at the clock that reads 12:47. Unknowingly, I swing my legs out from under the duvet and groan. I hate being ill. Every muscle ached as I got out of bed and headed towards the door, however, as I get closer I hear a mystery clatter from the kitchen. Someone is in the house. It can't be Kate, she is at work. Fuck. In a panic I tie my robe around me and search around for something to use as a weapon. A lamp? No. Hairspray? Yes! And… A clothes hanger! Armed with my ever so deadly weaponry I venture out my room and through the lounge into the kitchen.

I jump out and madly spray at the figure before I hear his voice.

"Fuck! Ana!" Oh crap. I drop the hairspray and slowly my tired eyes focus on Christian stood in the kitchen. It had totally slipped my mind that he was coming over, but how did he get in? The door was locked?

"Jesus Christ, Christian! What are you doing?!" I hit him with the coat hanger rather feebly, before he takes it from my hand.

"I'm here to look after you." His eyes glance up and down and he shakes his head. "You look awful."

"Well aren't you always a charmer. How the fuck did you get in?" I run a hand through my tangled hair and wipe my eyes, heading over to a pot of coffee. I am promptly stopped by strong hands on my arm.

"No coffee. You can have juice, and something to eat. I swear you must of lost at least three pounds since I saw you on Friday. Sit." I raise an eyebrow at him. He expects me to deal with this shit? Not a chance.

"Excuse me? Answer my fucking question." I pull myself from his grasp and pour a cup of coffee, which with a sigh he takes off of me.

"A key under the doormat is not safe, Anastasia." I groan at his words, not having the energy to correct him.

"I care, Ana. I really do. I wouldn't be here otherwise. Now, come on. Back to bed. I will bring some soup which you will eat, you understand?" I look away from his gaze. One thing Christian Grey is good at is being in control, and it drives me insane. I stay silent for a moment, exhausted and vulnerable, emotions beginning to wave over me.

"Ana?" I didn't plan this, you know? What I did next was never supposed to happen. But it did, and I have never regretted it.

I broke down into tears, and collapsed into his arms, against his chest. At first I felt him tense and instantly, I recoiled away, but before I even looked up at him, he was pulling me back into his grasp and I was grateful. I don't remember how long we stood there, in each other's arms, but I do know he carried me to bed, and I let him. I remember him sitting there with me, coaxing me back into slumber. His strong hand, gently flowed across my forehead, as if I were delicate and precious. Before I knew it, I was once again asleep.

Thankfully, my next wake up was much more pleasant than the first, as I was greeted with Christian's voice encouraging me to wake up and have some soup he made.

"Come on, Ana. Wakey wakey." I grinned at his words, big scary Christian Grey telling me to "wakey wakey".

"Hmm.." I rubbed my eyes and gently sat up.

"Eat."

"Alright, bossy." I take the bowl and taste a small amount, it tastes better than I was expecting. He isn't exactly Gordon Ramsay though.

"Oh Anastasia, you don't know the half of it." He smirks at me as I eat, back then I found it incredibly odd, but nowadays, I understand. I ate very little soup before handing him back the bowl. You can imagine how well that went down.

"Are you trying to wind me up, Anastasia? Because you're doing a bloody good job." He handed me back the bowl which I turned my nose up to.

"Please, Christian. I am really not hungry."

"You need to eat. I am not taking no for an answer."

"Yes, you are. I am not eating anymore."

"Ana. Don't push me. Just eat some more, please."

"No."

"Ana."

"No."

"Please."

"Did I stutter? No."

"Anastasia, you better watch what you say."

"Or what? What will the big bad Christian Grey do?"

"You haven't the faintest idea what I am capable of."

"Enlighten me, then."

Christian stared darkly into my eyes, to the point where normally I would have turned away, but I wasn't losing this battle now. I began to tremble under his gaze as he bit the inside of his cheek. I could see the anger rising inside of him, his hands shake nearly as much as I was, but all of that just evaporated with his words.

"Not today, Anastasia. Not without the paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"Oh fuck..." With that, he got up and took his worried look and the bowl of soup out to the kitchen.

"Christian." I got up and followed him without any hesitation.

"What are you talking about? Don't ignore me all the time." He stood with his back to me, hunched over the sink, washing the dishes.

"Please, Ana. You don't understand. I am not… I'm not like other men, and I am definitely not the man for you."

"What's to say I am not like other women?"

"I have let a lot of your shit slide, Anastasia. If you knew better, you would be so much more careful." He dried his hands and stepped closer, the intensity thickening.

"Well then tell me, Christian. Please." I stepped closer to him, not caring about pushing any boundaries.

"It can't be like this, Ana. It just… can't." He shook his head and turned away.

"Choose."

"I'm sorry?"

"Tell me, or leave and never come back. Choose now."

He stood there silently for a moment, and I didn't half expect him to turn and leave. Instead he turned, pulled me closer and despite me riddled with illness, looking like the back end of a donkey, and being a bitch all day, he kissed me. His soft lips collided with mine with passion, but care, I could feel him holding back slightly, not giving me everything, so I kissed him back. I slid my arms around his neck and sunk into the bliss of his embrace. Everything was perfect. I realised in that moment, the slightest moment this is where I wanted to be, where I wanted to stay.

My pleasure was short lived as we both pulled away in surprise at a shriek from the doorway.

"Well fuck me with a pineapple and call me Marilyn. You're sucking the face off Christian Grey!"