A Scarred Omega [Female Alpha, Male Omega] (ChatGPT Translated)

Chapter 9

Can't you take this thing off?

It was only then that I realized and belatedly looked at Axiu's face. 

His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes closed, his face flushed with a sickly red, his lips pale and dry, almost peeling. People with a fever tend to feel weak in their limbs, and his foot injury was not completely healed, no wonder he couldn't get up. 

. . . It wasn't that he was resisting me, he just simply didn't have the strength. 

I touched my nose and directed 231 to bring the thermometer over. It was a pure white toy gun-like instrument, and I grabbed the handle, ready to insert the protruding tip into his ear. 

For convenience, I sat on the ground and moved forward a few times, so Axiu, who was curled up, was stuck between my legs. I opened my other hand and wrapped it around his back, and he was all gathered in my arms. 

Then I inserted the thermometer into his ear. 

The distance was close enough that I could see the fine, soft fuzz on his face just by tilting my head. 

The metal probe of the thermometer was icy cold, and accidentally touching his sensitive earlobe made Axiu stiffen for a moment, his eyelashes fluttering. 

I found it amusing and couldn't help but touch him a few more times, causing his earlobe to visibly redden and become inflamed. When I wanted to play again, Axiui reached out and grabbed my wrist, half-opening his hazy eyes to look at me, his tone restrained and weak: ". . . stop it." 

Alright, I can't be too harsh on a patient. 

I obediently withdrew my hand and glanced down at the thermometer's reading. 

38. 5℃. 

I showed it to him, and he lowered his eyelashes, pursed his dry lips, and said, "Hmm, it's okay." 

It's okay? What's okay?

Is it okay that he fell off the couch and got sick with a fever, or is it okay that I don't care about him?

I ignored him and went straight to the water cup on the coffee table, feeling the warm cup and stuffing it into his arms. 231 was standing straight beside him with the medical kit. 

After watching Axiui take a sip of water and his lips becoming moist again, I stood up and pulled out an ice-blue fever-reducing patch from the medical kit, lifted his bangs, and slapped the patch on his forehead. 

Axiui widened his eyes in surprise and reached out to touch his forehead, but I ruthlessly slapped his hand away." Don't touch it, behave yourself." I looked at the sofa and picked up Axiu, placing him on it. Caught off guard, he choked on his water and started coughing violently, glaring at me in embarrassment. 

"What's wrong? I'm the one who brought you here," I said innocently, feeling unfairly judged. 

His eyes turned red, his knuckles pressed against his neck, and he couldn't stop coughing as he bent over, his coughs getting worse. 

I thought he was going to throw up, so I jokingly grabbed the trash can next to the coffee table and put it in front of him. 

Just as I put the trash can down, Axiu let out a painful dry heave. 

His fingers changed position, tightly gripping the collar and trying to pull it off, his knuckles turning white and contrasting sharply with his increasingly red neck. 

I was startled and quickly crouched down. 

"What's going on? Didn't you put on the collar?" I frowned and touched his collar, but found that it seemed to be shrinking.