fansign ᝰ enhypen ✓ (poc reader)

my-log: cold

A COUPLE DAYS LATER, and I'm stuck in my house with a cold. At first I had a horrible fever and constant hot flashes, that Mi-Young and Seong had to drive me to the hospital to get a check up. Luckily it wasn't anything serious, but now I'm apartment-ridden for a few days.

In the beginning, I couldn't even leave my bed. But I've managed to make it to the couch, the bathroom, and the fridge. Otherwise, that was the limit of what my weak, sickly legs could take.

I start my day by calling Geun to let him know my condition, and that I'd recover just fine by the end of the week. I'm still laying on the couch, and the only thing I can do is curl underneath the blanket and watch the television. Today, my limbs feel sore, I'm freezing, and I'm dizzy. At least I'm not nauseous anymore.

My doorbell rings.

I let out an irritated groan. Why? Why, of all days, would someone ring my doorbell when I can hardly walk to the window to close the curtains? Even though the bright morning sunshine is blinding my eyes??

I mentally prepare myself, and gather all of my strength and project it into my legs. I roll of the couch and the blanket falls off me and onto the floor. My body shivers aggressively. God, it's freezing. Is it just because I'm sick??

I amble away from the couch and down the foyer to the front door. My vision feels so distorted and dreamy like, that I honestly can't tell if I'm still asleep or not. I know I've made it to the door when my body collided into it by accident. I groan, opening the door weakly. Though it's hard for me to make out the face, I can tell from the hair who it is.

"Oh wow. You don't look good at all."

I'm too weak to even say something back. Instead, I feel myself start to topple forward. He catches my body with his quick reflexes, grunting. "Ohhh okay, that's my fault. Ahhhh, I shouldn't have made you walk to the door, huh?" He chuckles. I notice he had dropped a bag he was holding to catch my body. What was inside?

I hum tiredly, and he carefully puts my left arm around his head and picks me up underneath my legs. "I've got you."

I feel like I might fall asleep. He placed me back on the couch, and stands up straight again. He places his hands on his hips and grunts as he observes how messy my apartment had gotten in the two days of my sickness. "Glad they sent someone to check up on you, since you refuse to stay at the hospital and worry Geun."

"...S...Sungh—"

"Ahhhh tatata." He bends down and puts his finger over my lips, shushing me. "Save your energy. You don't need to speak! I understand you." He dramatically places his hand over his chest.

I squint at him. Why is he pretending like I'm his comrade who is dying on the battlefield?

He walks back to the front door and brings the bag I saw he had dropped earlier. He takes out something—I can't really tell what he's doing because my vision is so distorted—and places it on my forehead. I shiver. "Sunghoon...C...Cold."

"Ahh, cold? Lemme check your thermostat." He says hurriedly, and quickly jogs to it across the room. He gasps when he sees what the temperature is. "It's 56 degrees in here, y/n! During the winter time! No wonder you're cold!"

I shift a little on the couch, exhausted. "I...I don't know how to work it..."

He gazes at me pitifully, before sighing. "Geez,
y/n...You're an adult now and you can't even adjust the temperature in your own house??" He sits beside my head on the couch and pats his thigh. "Lay your head here."

I turn onto my back and stare up at him. "...You're staying here?"

"For a little bit. Everyone is worried about you because you hadn't been answering your texts or calls." He explains, grabbing my blanket from up off the floor and spreading it across my body. "Seriously, don't disappear like that! Make an effort to let us know how you are even if you're ill!"

I only grunt in response. I gently put my head on his leg and relax into him. He wipes my hair out of my face, and puts the back of his hand onto my cheek.

His skin is so soft. His hand is cold, yet his touch makes my stomach warm. Oh no, not this again...I feel like my body is getting excited again...If this keeps up, I might have to force myself to marry some random guy to keep me away from them—

Sunghoon takes out a small towel and pats my damp neck dry. "You say you're cold but you're sweating...You're okay, right?"

"Yes...I think...I feel...terrible...But doctor...examine...says I'm good..." I whisper. I don't think I'm making sense anymore.

He chuckles at me. "Okay, I understand you...You're tired aren't you?"

"...Mm."

"It's only 9 a.m. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"...No..."

"I see..." He rubs his palm down my head to comfort me, like he's soothing me to bed. "I'll clean up your apartment, and you go ahead and rest, okay?"

"...T...Thank you..."

"Seriously, y/n. You need to take care of yourself. You've obviously got a weak immune system if a mere cold is making you this sick..." Sunghoon gently moves my head off his thigh and bends down in front of the couch, us meeting face to face. He adjust the cool patch over my forehead, and only then do I see how genuinely worried he is for me.

My eyes shake a bit when I see his expression. He seems concerned. No...Not even that...

Afraid...

"Please...Tell me you're okay? You don't feel anything else wrong? You think you'll be okay after this??" He whispers. His voice...it's wavering. His eyes are trembling a bit too. Wait a minute...

That's when I realize why he's so worried.

And as soon as it hits me, my eyes swell with tears of sheer guilt. I try to sit up, exerting whatever energy I had left into my palms. "I-I'm not-Don't worry-I'm—"

"Woah! Stop, lay back down! What are you upset for!?" He panics, pushing me gently back onto the couch.

The tears don't stop rolling down my cheeks. "I...I'm not...I don't have anything seriously wrong with me...I-I'll be okay...It's not genetic...I'm not...

like Geun..."

He pauses, like he's surprised I managed to figure out why he was so worried. He only forces a grin and nods. "...I see...I...I'm sorry I assumed the worst, I just...—"

"...Sung...hoon..."

"...I'm already worried about Geun enough...I'd hate for you to get ill too..."

"..." I blink my tears away. He smiles again, using his thumbs to wipe my cheeks and under my eyes.

"Sorry. I got you all worked up...Take a nap. I'll clean the apartment...By the time you wake up, someone else might be here looking after you, just to make sure you're okay." He whispers.

His voice sounds so monotone, so soft, that immediately after he says that,

I drift to sleep.