Electra’s Pov

Yuna let out a loud, frustrated sigh, crossing her arms as she stayed rooted in place. I glared at her, my irritation spiking.

I had expected her to do as I asked and leave—walk out that door and let me have some peace for once, but no. She stood there like she had something important to say, which only made me angrier.

“Why are you still here?” I snapped, my voice sharp and biting. “I told you to leave.”

Instead of answering directly, Yuna tilted her head slightly, her expression softening just enough to make me feel like she thought I was some kind of charity case. “How are you feeling right now?” she asked quietly.

Her question hit me like a slap, not because it was particularly cruel or pointed, but because it was so… simple. Too simple. Too damn intrusive. My chest tightened, and I clenched my fists at my sides.

I let out a bitter scoff, my lips curling into a sneer. “How the hell do you think I’m feeling, Yuna?” I said, raising my voice without caring who might hear. “Take a wild guess. Use your dumb head and figure it out, and then take a damn hint.”

I expected her to shrink back, to stammer an apology, and scurry out of the room. Anyone else would have, but surprisingly, not Yuna. No, she just rolled her eyes, as if my outburst was nothing more than an annoying rebellion, and her calmness only made me angrier.

“You need to go to the infirmary,” she said, completely ignoring my words and tone.

I blinked at her, utterly confused by her persistence. “What?” I snapped, staring at her as if she’d just suggested I sprout wings and fly out the window. “Why?”

Yuna’s gaze remained steady, and for a moment, I almost thought she was trying to pity me, but then she stepped closer, and I realized she wasn’t pitying me at all. She was being stubborn—unwaveringly stubborn in that irritating, doe-eyed way of hers.

“Don’t,” I warned, my voice low and cold. “Don’t come any closer.”

She didn’t listen.

Instead, she raised her hands slightly, palms facing me as if to show she wasn’t a threat. “I’m just checking,” she said softly, taking another step forward. Before I could stop her, she reached out and placed her hand against my forehead.

I flinched, recoiling as if her touch had burned me. My hand shot up to yank hers away, and I glared at her, my anger boiling over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, my voice trembling.

“Checking your temperature,” she said simply, her tone infuriatingly matter-of-fact.

“Checking my—what?” I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Who the hell do you think you are? My nurse? My mother? Get away from me.”

Yuna didn’t flinch at my words. She didn’t back off, didn’t apologize, didn’t do anything I expected. Instead, she just sighed again, like she was dealing with a particularly difficult child.

“You’re burning up,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “You need to rest, and you need someone to take care of that wrist.”

I glanced down at my wrist, noticing for the first time how raw and red it looked. The skin was swollen and tender, and I winced slightly as I flexed my fingers, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Yuna had crossed a line, and I wasn’t about to let her think she could get away with it.

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” I said through gritted teeth, pulling my arm away from her. “I don’t need anyone.”

Yuna’s expression softened, but there was a flicker of something else there—something that looked suspiciously like determination. “You might not think you do,” she said gently. “But right now, you’re not in a position to argue.”

I let out a sharp laugh, though it lacked any real humor. “Oh, really? And who made you the expert on what I need?”

“No one,” she said simply. “But I can see you’re not okay, Electra, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to help.”

I clenched my fists again, my nails digging into my palms. “I didn’t ask for your help,” I said quietly, my voice laced with bitterness.

“You didn’t have to,” Yuna replied, her tone unwavering. “Sometimes people need help even when they don’t ask for it.”

Without waiting for me to say anything, Yuna tilted her head and asked, “Which wardrobe space is yours?”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. She wasn’t serious, was she? I folded my arms over my chest, scowling. “Why does it matter?” I snapped. “You’re not—”

“Electra,” she interrupted calmly. “Which. Wardrobe. Is. Yours?”

I gritted my teeth, frustrated that nothing I said seemed to faze her. No amount of anger or harsh words would scare her off, and at this point, I was too tired to keep trying. With a reluctant wave of my hand, I pointed toward the small section of the wardrobe that was mine.

Yuna nodded. “Permit me,” she said simply, before walking over to it.

I watched in disbelief as she opened my wardrobe and began rummaging through my clothes as if she owned the place. My jaw dropped slightly as she pulled out a fresh pair of underwear and what looked like one of my most comfortable sweaters and sweatpants. She even grabbed socks.

“What the hell are you doing?” I finally managed to ask, my voice laced with irritation.

She turned to face me, holding the clothes in her arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Getting you dressed,” she said matter-of-factly, walking back toward me.

I blinked at her, utterly baffled by her audacity. “Do you even realize you’re missing class right now?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. “You know, that thing you’re always supposed to be on time for?”

Yuna shrugged, placing the clothes on the edge of my bed. “Doesn’t matter,” she said simply, looking at me with that same infuriating calmness. “You’re more important right now.”

Her words caught me off guard, and I felt a strange pang in my chest—something between annoyance and… something else I didn’t want to name. “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, looking away.

“Maybe,” she said with a small smile. “But you still need to get dressed.” She pointed to the clothes she’d picked out. “Come on, Electra. Put these on. We’re going to the infirmary.”

I let out a sharp laugh, crossing my arms again. “And what if I say no?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Yuna didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll have no choice but to bring the infirmary to you,” she said, her voice calm and unwavering. “And trust me, you don’t want that. So if you don’t want attention drawn to yourself again when I call in for an emergency, then just be a good girl, get dressed, and come with me.”

Her words left me momentarily speechless. I stared at her, trying to decide if she was bluffing, but the look in her eyes told me she wasn’t. She was completely serious.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I said finally, narrowing my eyes at her.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression unchanging. “Try me.”

The audacity of this girl was unreal. I wanted to argue, to push back, to put her in her place—but the thought of someone barging into my room and seeing me like this was enough to make me think twice. The last thing I needed was more attention on me.

With a loud, exaggerated sigh, I grabbed the clothes she’d laid out for me and turned toward the bathroom. “Fine,” I muttered, refusing to look at her. “But only because I don’t want anyone else in here.”

“Of course,” Yuna said, her voice light and cheerful, as if she’d just won some kind of prize. “Take your time.”

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