She said that and turned around, heading toward the small study table—but she didn't manage to take more than one step before Avner's hand closed around hers.
That single action was enough to draw a reaction from Nephthys.
A very small one.
Her eyebrows knit together ever so slightly before returning to their usual position almost instantly. It was so subtle it would have been impossible to notice.
Impossible for anyone else, at least.
When it came to her, there was no movement—no matter how small—that Avner failed to catch.
Seeing that reaction made him happy. It meant she was aware of him.
Maybe not in the same way he was aware of her—but she was conscious of him nonetheless.
Nephthys pulled her hand free before asking calmly,
"What is wrong?"
Avner decided to take full advantage of the moment.
"Cool me down, please. I don't think I can make it to my room on my own."
He was already anticipating her response—but was quickly disappointed.
"You can make it. The fire only just happened. You still have about an hour before your condition worsens."
Even after her stone-like reply, Avner refused to give up.
"But you saw it yourself. My fever is rising really fast. What if I faint on the way?"
As he finished speaking, Avner took her hand again and placed it against his forehead, making sure she could feel his temperature. He kept it there for a few seconds, and when it became clear she wasn't going to pull away on her own, he gently guided her hand down—only to lace his fingers with hers and hold on tightly.
"Alright, let's go."
Without giving her time to respond, Avner escorted her toward his room, never letting go of her hand.
"Alright, we're here. You didn't faint. You're fine. Now go to sleep,"
Nephthys said once they arrived, finally releasing his hand.
Avner, however, clearly wasn't done.
"Hold my hand."
"No,"
she replied simply.
"But what if I die in my sleep?"
he pressed on.
"The chances of you dying are very low."
"But not zero."
"Go to sleep."
With that, Nephthys turned around—but Avner grabbed her hand again.
Avner was fully aware that if she truly wanted to, she could break his arm without effort.
Yet, surprisingly, she didn't pull away.
No matter how many times he held onto her.
And that made him happy.
"I'm scared."
"Grow up."
"Adults can be scared too, you know."
At this point, what Avner was doing was clearly working. Nephthys was starting to give in—most likely because the conversation was going nowhere and she felt like she was arguing with a child.
With a sigh, she relented.
"Fine. Go lie down."
Avner's grin stretched from ear to ear. Holding her hand tightly, he led her to the bed. Before lying down, he paused and looked at her a moment longer, his smile unwavering.
"Stop smiling like a clown. Lie down."
"Yes, ma'am,"
he said obediently, finally lying down.
Nephthys sat down on the chair beside the bed.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
she asked.
She genuinely didn't understand his reaction. Was he really that afraid of dying?
And if so—why?
Why were people so attached to life?
Was life truly that great?
"It's a secret,"
Avner replied.
The real reason he couldn't stop smiling was simple: even though she could cool him down without physical contact—just by channeling her energy—she was still holding his hand while doing it.
"You really are a clown,"
Nephthys said, completely serious.
Avner's smile faltered.
"How cruel."
"Sleep. I need to sleep as well."
She had only intended to stay until he fell asleep—but if he kept talking, she might end up staying all night.
Hearing that, Avner's smile returned—this time far more mischievous.
"My bed is big enough. You can always sleep here,"
he said, tapping the mattress beside him.
Nephthys leaned closer to his face before replying,
"If you don't go to sleep, I will turn you into a cube of ice."
As she spoke, an intensely cold energy flowed through his hand—the very same hand she was still holding.