Warmth. All I could feel was warmth.

A soft hand, caressing the side of my face. I leaned into the warmth, wanting more. I desired to open my eyes, to confront whoever was there, but my body couldn't move for some unfathomable reason.

I was pulled under into the unconscious once again.

*********

The most wonderful sound.

The noise was barely audible, but it sounded like the voice of an angel.

Where am I?

Well, you certainly can't be in heaven. After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Struggling to open my eyes, I glanced around at my surroundings. What the-?

What was I doing in this room? Resting in bed? Wasting time? I seldom came in here, choosing instead to fall asleep in my office to increase maximum work efficiency. Clenching my fists and tensing my muscles, I was ready to attack whoever brought me here!

Until I noticed something.

Glancing down, I realized a large peacock-patterned tailcoat had been draped across my body. My eyes widened half a millimeter in realization as I recalled the events that had transpired earlier...

She, arriving at work, pestering me as to why my door was locked. Me, in my office trying to ignore her as well as my body's ailment. After all, the body is merely a fallible animal, susceptible to delusions. However, my body seemed to require copious amounts of repose seeing as I fell asleep while trying to read Introduction to the Electric Dynamo.

She, entering my office, threatening me in order to make me get some rest. She, wrapping me in a bed-sheet and inadvertently brushing her hand along my cheek...

Opening my eyes, I whirled my head around to see her over by the counter, back turned to me, rocking her hips back and forth whilst humming to a nonexistent tune. So that's what I was hearing. She was stirring a large pot of boiling soup over the stove. I felt entranced watching her rather generous behind...

Maybe you are in heaven after all.

Shut up!

Shaking my head out of its reverie, I cleared my throat.

Whirling around at the sound, she caught my eye and the tips of her ears reddened.

"Oh! You're awake. You must be hungry," she babbled, abruptly turning back around to hide her flushed face. I watched as she spooned some steaming soup into a bowl.  She walked over to me and sat on my bedside, facing me.

"How do you feel?" she prompted.

"Fine." Liar. Resisting the urge to groan in pain, I sat up, my muscles as stiff as the mattress beneath me. My body felt cold and hot at the same time. My forehead was drenched in perspiration yet my hands and feet felt numb.

"Eat this," she commanded, shoving the steaming bowl and spoon towards me. I looked at the bowl, then looked back into her eyes. She nodded in encouragement, and I accepted the offering. Reluctantly dipping the spoon into the liquid and bringing it to my lips, I tasted the soup.

What the-

Feeling her eyes on me, I made sure to keep my face impassive.

"Mr Linton," I began calmly.

"Yes, Sir?"

"How much salt did you put in this?"

"A tablespoon. Why?"

"I believe you were supposed to add a teaspoon."

******************

The Next Day

Blast, blast, blast! I was going to be late to work! You're always late to work, Lilly. Why are you even surprised at this point?

Bustling up the stairs, I managed to make it in time as the clock tower struck 7. After exchanging greetings with dear old Mr. Stone, I hastily made my way to my office, hoping Mr. Ambrose wouldn't notice my tardiness. I had almost made it to my desk, just passing the door to his office, but unfortunately I had been caught.

"Mr. Linton!" Damn!

I stepped backwards and popped my head through the door to his office, flashing him my trademark grin.

His appearance looked normal again, and he was looking as functional as ever.

"Yes, Mr. Ambrose, Sir?" I asked cheerfully.

"You are two minutes and twenty-four seconds late. This shall be deducted from your wages. See to it you are not late again."

Yep. He's definitely back to normal alright.

"Anything else, Sir?" I wonder if he'll mention anything about last night?

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Linton. Now get back to work!"

Shaking my head, I returned to my desk and sat down on my chair. I was just about to sort through today's letters, but a tiny slip of paper folded neatly on my desk caught my eye. What is this?

Picking up the paper and unfolding it, I immediately recognized the neat, simple handwriting of Mr. Rikkard Ambrose. Bringing the paper closer to my eyes, I read the message:

Mr. Linton,

Thank you.

Rikkard Ambrose

Not able to resist grinning, I stuffed the paper into my pocket and continued to fetch files back and forth the rest of the day.

Looks like Mr. Ambrose is back to normal again. Hope you guys liked it! :)

-T