The living room was Jonas's territory, yet Sierra found herself on the couch with Jonas while Leone played with his building blocks.

"I prefer to see him this way."

"Yeah, me too."

It was the first time since the Chicken Pox outbreak that the two adults got to sit and chat.

They smiled at one another when suddenly Sierra's stare narrowed and fixed a spot on Jonas's face.

They were almost nose to nose. Jonas got a clear view of Sierra's deep chestnut brown eyes. He realized he had never observed the woman so closely. The proximity made the man slightly slide away.

"What wrong?" Jonas asked.

"You have a red dot, Jonas. Are you sure you caught varicella when you were young?"

"Of course, who hasn't."

Apparently, Jonas was one of the rare humans to have escaped from the itching pimples, as the next day proved.

"Jonas."

"Oh, Sierra, good morning."

The woman stared at the man, who glowed with fever redness.

"Jonas, you're sick."

"No, I'm fine, Sierra. What are a few pimples?" said the man who scratched his arm obsessively.

"I'll stay at home."

"No, Sierra, drop off Leone, and go to work think of your promotion."

"But Jonas," exclaimed to protest.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Jonas, your not fine at all."

"Go, don't worry," Jonas said while brooming the woman away with his hands.

Sierra left, but she could not shake off the sensation of having abandoned the man.

An hour later, Jonas was surprised to get a message:

Are you okay?

The man whisked off a thumbs-up emoji.

Sierra sneered in front of the image that did not indicate his state.

At noon she called, "hey Jonas. How is it going?"

"Eh, good," Jonas answered the question. He did not expect Sierra to worry that much about him, and he appreciated the gesture until his phone received messages every thirty minutes. Sierra's mother-hen syndrome was more potent than he imagined as she added another call in the afternoon.

The man caught all sorts of colds and tropical viruses, but none were as annoying as the rashy spots, which he rubbed frantically while trying to hold the phone to his ear.

The sound of his quaky voice did not reassure Sierra, who knew how people played it out. Right then, Jonas borrowed her repertoire of words. They were alike, always pretending to be okay not to make others worry.

Sierra got a taste of her medicine as she recognized the behavior made the other distress more.

Once her day's work was over, Sierra passed by the pharmacy. They had used all the creams on Leone. Thus the man had nothing for himself. His pimples seemed far more vicious than those Leone had.

Like most men when sick, Jonas was an inch away from writing his will when Sierra arrived. The man had rubbed his back against all the rough and rugged surfaces he could find.

"Oh my, Jonas, look at you."

Jonas sat with his raffled hair, pajamas, and glasses on the still unfolded couch.

Sierra mentally slapped herself as the glasses fetishism she had in high-school surfaced.

"Have you eaten? Are you hungry?" She asked as she put Leone down.

Jonas scratched his neck, "I'm okay, Sierra."

"No, you're not, Jonas. Please let me do something for you for once. And stop scratching yourself that way; you're only making things worse."

"I can't help it. This is soㅡ," Jonas paused, "I just want to sleep," said the man sinking under the covers.

Leone crawled to the couch and used the armrest as support before tapping on the sofa to wake the man.

Sierra took a few steps and retrieved him, "Leone, leave Jonas. He's, he's sick; he needs rest."

They left the living room. Under the covers, the man fumed. He did not wish for Sierra to see him this way.

While Jonas lamented on his predicament, Sierra prepared Leone's meal that Jonas cooked the day before. Jacob did not provide him with meals for the last week as Jonas made dinner for the three.

The routine already settled in Sierra's mind, and she found the table she set for Leone and her lacked life.

Sierra enjoyed the meals where Jonas's conversations gave the tempo.

Leone, too, seemed to feel the gloom. He took his spoons full and mashed without the gleeful smile. The infant's sense of empathy was strong. His mood was disturbed as soon as either one of the adults around him emotions plummeted.

Jonas's state filled Sierra's thoughts. The man needed to eat; even though her culinary skills were weak, Sierra sought to make something. She had a chicken noodle instant soup. How hard could it be?

In the first attempt, the noddles drowned in tasteless water.

In the second, the noddles wiggled on dry land.

It was only on the third that the dosage seemed right. Sierra bought the bowl for Jonas.

"Jonas, I made some soup. I promise it's edible; please try some. It's on the table, and I also bought you an A-Derma soothing cream."

Without waiting for a response, Sierra left.

Sierra and Leone spent the evening in her room to give Jonas space. The boy was fast asleep when Jonas got up to shower.

The woman waited for the sounds in the bath to stop before getting up. She found the man in front of the mirror holding the ointment she bought.

"Do you need some help?"

It took Jonas a second to understand what assistance Sierra offered. Without a word, he handed her the ointment and took off his t-shirt.

"I guess it's a yes," Sierra approached and attempted to keep an unfazed expression at the sight of the man's body until he turned.

"Wow, that's one massive tattoo you have there."

"It's the Sak Yant; it's Buddㅡ."

The man stopped as Sierra's finger swept the scriptures on his back, "It's amazing; it must have hurt."

Jonas bit his inner lip and cleared his throat before replying, "yes. Eh, as I was saying, it's a Sak Yant."

"What's that?"

"It's a tattoo that offers protection to its wearer, and it serves as a talisman creating a change in life."

Sierra stared at what was mere geometrical designs, "do you know the meaning of each symbol."

"Yes, I do. What you see in the middle under my neck is the yard, the Buddha peaks. On the side of it, you have the Gao Tao five lines scriptures. On my lower back, you have the suea koo tigers. The twins offer protection and power."

"Why did you do such a thing? I mean, is it some fashion statement, or do you really believe?"

Jonas shuddered as Sierra began to apply the cream.

"Eh,ㅡhmm, I believe. After my studies, I took a gap year. I traveled the world, and I ended up in Thailand. I learned a lot about Buddhism and myself there. A Buddhist monk did this with the bamboo technique."

"What did you learn there?" Sierra said while she popped her head from the side of his back.

The man's smile reflected in the mirror as he said, "everything has a purpose in life and that we should respect all living things."

"That's fundamental," the woman began to apply the cream again.

"But most people in society forget."

Behind his back, Sierra grimaced to the know-it-all tone he employed, "okay, what else?"

"Everything happens for a reason. There are no coincidences."

Jonas clutched his hands on both sides of the sink's rims. His voice suddenly became grave, "the tragedies and mistakes which fill out life have their purpose. The good can't prevail if the bad doesn't exist and vice versa. Situations aren't always evident, but when you look back on your life events, they make sense."

Jonas turned to face Sierra, "I mean, look at us, you, Leone, and I. I'm sure we're part of a greater plan."

Jonas's eyes locked his eyes on Sierra, who did not know whether it would be better to lower her gaze to the man's chest that rose as he heaved or to hold the stare.

She opted for his eyes again but quickly lowered her gaze. She felt like prey close to imminent danger, "eh, hmm, I don't know what plan that was, I just hope it has a happy ending."

"That depends on us; we influence our destinies."

"Done."

"Eh?"

"The cream, I think you'll be fine now," Sierra said, eyes darting across Jonas's pectorals.

Sierra lifted her head to face Jonas's eyes again. The man's intense stare seemed to leer into her soul.

"I didn't know you were such a philosopher."

Jonas released an uncanny grin, "there are many things you don't know about me."

Sierra turned to leave.

"Sierra?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Sierra left, closing the bathroom door.

Something shook her; was it his words or the sight of the man's torso which got the best of her?

Sierra wondered what would be the outcome of the situation.

She returned to her room and closed the door. She sat on her bed and waited for her heart to stop running lapse. Only then did she begin to assess her moment with Jonas.

What was this about influencing destiny?

Why did she feel so awkward and flustered?

What was the sentiment of guilt attached to the moment?

Sierra had not done anything wrong she felt as though she committed a sort of unforgivable forfeit.

Again, Leone was her priority. She was willing to rub any cream on Jonas if it allowed her to remain with the baby boy she loved.

Sleep. Close your eyes and rest. The command remained unheard by Sierra's body that shifted from a pose of frustration to another.

Jonas, too, was perplexed by the rhythm of his heart began to decelerate.

The man tried to pinpoint the moment his blood began to rush. All happened to start when Sierra touched him. Jonas had felt ripples on his skin; he discarded the sensation as it was apparent this resulted from the lack of physical contact with the opposite sex.

Even minutes after, the thought triggered the same wave across his back.

He took a glance at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face was almost crimson red. Sierra thought it was fever, but the man knew it was anything, but he put his tee shirt back on, "Jonas, what on earth are you thinking? Get a grip on yourself," he muttered.

Jonas returned to the living room feeling reinvigorated. He appreciated Sierra's help and was surprised the woman laid hands on him and the ugly chickenpox. Sierra's gesture was sincere, and it showed she had a charitable heart. Okay, it was chickenpox and not leprosy, still.

How many people would apply the ointment with their bare hands? A Q-tip was off usage in the best cases.

Jonas's thoughts did not run further than on those few assumptions.

The man slept light-headed and relived both skin and mind.

"Good morning Jonas, how are you feeling?"

The first word that came to mind was lost before the man realized she referred to his health.

"I'm feeling better, thank you, Sierra."

"I'm glad to hear that, rest. I'll take Leone to daycare."

Sierra smiled, and Jonas's heart throbbed with a bang.

He nodded, and Sierra resumed to dress Leone.

The man laid back and stared at the ceiling.

Everything happens for a reason, but the thing occurring in his heart seemed as unlawful as the thoughts sprouting in his mind.