Eric backed to the hospital the next day. The sun was shining highly in the sky, which was really rare in winter. Dr. Idle smiled the minute he saw Eric.

The latter was wrapped in layers and layers of thick cloths as usual. His fur-lined looked extremely warm and comfortable under the bleak winter sun.

The doctor couldn’t help but touch the furry hat with a broad smile.

“Yes, doc?” Eric asked in confusion. His face and lips were as white as sheet under the sun.

“Wait.” Michael chucked, taking a picture of Eric with his phone and showing it to his puzzled patient: “With that hat, you look like a little tiger.”

Eric laughed, not only for Michael’s lame joke, but for his childishness.

But all of these were wiped out by the excruciating pain brought by chemotherapy. His hair was damped by sweat; his stomach was aching for vomiting caused by his therapy.

Eric bit his lower lip to stop moaning, for he had nobody to depend on.

Dr. Idle came to visit Eric after the therapy and saw him lying on bed lifelessly.

For a brief moment, he thought Eric was already died. He called the latter’s name under his breath, desperately waiting for Eric’s answer.

After a pause as long as eternal, Eric finally moved. He looked up, eyes watery with tears, whispering: “I’m alright. Just, hurt…”

Michael felt really bad for him.

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Actually, he called Eric a little tiger just to make him happy. In Michael’s mind, Eric Cleese was nothing like a tiger, more like a kitten: charming, but too weak to defeat himself.

“Come on, you can take a little nap at my place.” Holding Eric’s arm, Michael led him to his office. “I hide some snacks there, you’ll like them.”

Eric was too weak to refuse. Till lying on daybed in Michael’s office, he realized that the doctor changed the mattress into a much thicker and cosier one.

He almost groaned for its comfort once he lay on it.

“Take a rest. I still have something work to do.” Michael tucked him gently in a blanket smelt like sunlight.

Eric buried his face in it and inhaled deeply, almost weeping for the caring he felt.

He had been ill-treated for so long, a little kindness from strangers would move him to tears.

Other from that, Eric was also a bit worried. Because he didn’t know how to repay the doctor’s gentleness.

“Don’t worry.” Michael pulled the curtains. “I’ll wake you up when everything is done.”

Eric was so tired and fell asleep in no time.

Looking at his face, Michael was pondering why would he care so much about this man.

He didn’t want Eric to be hurt or wronged.

He didn’t like to see Eric feel dejected just because of his never-there-for-him boyfriend.

Although born into privilege and money, Michael was well-educated, behaved and not even close to a typical spoiled trust-fund baby. He had never drunk or smoked, never been promiscuous.

The only two thing he had cared were his cars and orchids.

And the latter was actually inherited from his father.

Mr. Idle should never know that his son gave one of the most precious orchids to a stranger. Michael reminded himself with a faint smile.

Eric hadn’t had a sweet and dreamless sleep like this in a long time. It felt like he was sleeping on the cloud: everything was so quiet and peaceful, and with the sweet smell of Osmanthus looming in the air.

The sky was completely dark when he awoke. Opening his eyes, Eric saw Dr. Idle sitting beside the daybed, reading.

“Hello, sleeping beauty. How are you feeling now?” Closing the book, Michael grinned.

Eric got off the bed: “Good. Great. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Not at all.” Michael pointed a hamper on the nearby desk. “I got you some food from my favourite Cantonese restaurant. It’s still warm. Eat some before you leave.”

Eric raised an eyebrow in curiosity: since when did doctors buy dinner for their patients?