"No," I admitted.
"We should call a doctor," Pascal said. "You haven't felt this bad in a long time."
I didn't want to be fussed over, not by a stranger. If Devereaux and his magic touch was here, that would be a different story.
"It's fine." I felt a headache prancing along the inside of my skull to accompany the body pain, because why not? Still, I wanted to get my point across so I forced myself to speak. "Don't want Headmaster to know."
"Know what? That you're in agony?"
I grunted softly in reply. It hurt too much to nod my head.
Pascal raised a brow. "You're in so much pain you can't even talk or move, and you don't want a doctor to look you over? Headmaster may be callous but she's not evil. Even she wouldn't mind spending the money on a doctor."
I was surprised at Pascal's naïve statement. Why should Headmaster care about my disability? She'd never shown any empathy towards me before. The thought of her happily paying a doctor's fee for an illness she thought was imaginary was ridiculous.
"I'm getting kicked out anyway," I said quietly, almost in a whisper. "She doesn't care."
Pascal's hands curled into fists at his sides. "This isn't fair! I'm going to get her."
"No," I said firmly, grabbing Pascal's wrist as he got up. The movement sent static jolts up my arm, stabbing my shoulder like arrows. I bit back a hiss.
"Florian, come on," Pascal argued. "I can't just watch you suffer like this."
"I'll live," I said through my teeth. I'd survived flare-ups before. I could do it again.
His brows furrowed. "What can I do to help?"
The first thing that popped into my head was Devereaux and his magic touch. I would've given anything to be back on that courtyard bench with Devereaux kneeling before me, his hands roaming up my calves, making me forget all the pain.
"Devereaux," I mumbled.
"Huh? What about him?"
"He touched my legs. Made me feel better."
Pascal glanced down at my lower half, still buried under the blanket. "I've never thought of that before. Do you, er, want me to give you a massage or something?"
The offer was nice but I didn't find the idea appealing. Usually when I had a bad flare-up, I hated being touched by other people at all. It was only the thought of Devereaux's hands on me that elicited a positive reaction. He was special.
"No, but thank you," I said gently.
Pascal nodded. He knew I was averse to touch when I got like this so I appreciated his regard for my boundaries.
"Only wanna be touched by Devereaux, huh?" Pascal asked with a playful grin. "I see how it is. You're smitten with this guy."
Heat crept back into my cheeks. "I-I am not."
"You so are. It's sweet. Why can't he come visit you here again?"
"He can't leave the castle grounds."
"Yeah, but why?"
"I don't know. He just can't."
Pascal scoffed. "Sounds like an excuse to me."
"It's not," I cried. "He's not like that. He's honest and straightforward."
