Thought she was at least friends with him.
It turns out, it was just her own infatuation.
So, she turned her head away, avoiding that comfortable palm, and walked towards the bed.
"It's fine, I have painkillers. I'll take two, and it'll be better soon."
"Phoebe!"
Phoebe reached out and grabbed her arm, coincidentally right on her wound. In pain, she shuddered.
Straightening up, she flung off his hand, "What are you doing?!"
Phoebe let go of her arm, his gentle gaze falling on her face, "You should probably see a doctor, you're really running a fever."
Why would he pretend to care after catching the fox?
"I'm fine, it's getting late, you should go back and sleep."
"Why are you being so stubborn?" Phoebe held her shoulder again, "Why don't... you lie down on the bed first, I'll call a doctor over."
She raised her hand to fling off his arm, "Haven't you had enough?"
She hated him like this, obviously not caring but pretending to, isn't it tiring?
