Oppa : Kim Seokjin

Chapter Ten: Confusion

Ayyy we hit ten chapters! Thank you to the small mount of people who have read and voted so far. I feel soft ㅠㅠ

Ten chapters in what... five days? I think that's gotta be my writing record lmao

I gotta continue Magic shop at some point but jeez... an idea for a Jimin fic is blooming in my head. Why the BTS Js gotta get me so much?

Scratch that. Why Jin gotta be so cute and Jimin gotta be such a peachy flower boy bias wrecker

ALSO PLEASE IF YOU DO NOTHING ELSE. WATCH THE VIDEO. IT MADE ME SO SOFT

Chapter Ten: Confusion

I wasn't sure how long I had been floating in and out of consciousness, but I was finally beginning to feel alive again. The temperature still lingered, and my person was hot, clammy, and freezing cold all at once, but my throat no longer felt like it was housing a swarm of angry bees, and my wits were coming back to me.

My bedroom door opened, and Oppa let himself in, leaving the door open. His eyes met mine, and he jumped.

"Ah- Ju-eun. You're awake." There were traces of discomfort on his face, and he looked a little warm, by the flush of his face. I frowned. He walked over, holding a tray with a bowl on it. Feeling some strength back in my limbs, I slowly shuffled myself into a sitting position. "You... you're feeling a bit better, then?"

I cleared my throat as he set the tray down. From the scent that was slowly working it's way through the air to me, it was Ginseng soup. "...yeah." Why was he acting so weird? I gave an unsure smile. "I actually feel like a human now."

"Ah, that's good." I watched him carefully, trying to grasp for anything in my mind that could have happened to make him so... awkward. I sighed. Maybe there was something going on at home? "Can you eat by yourself?"

I nodded, still watching him. He avoided my eyes for a time, focusing very intently on placing the warm bowl in my lap and then handing me the spoon. He flinched as our fingers brushed. I just blinked, confused. Hurt.

"Okay, well. Eat up." He said, stepping back, "I'll bring you more water."

And with that, he was leaving. I screwed up my face, trying to call after him, tell him to wait, but the only thing that left my lips was air. My vocal cords refused to make a noise. Where was the nagging? Where was the overconfident gaze to watch as I ate his food, bragging about what a good cook he was? Why wasn't he keeping me company?

I grimaced, gazing into my soup. I sounded so needy.

But, I couldn't help it. My heart ached, and in my weakened state I was vulnerable to the yearning.

"You're not eating." I snapped out of my thoughts as Oppa placed the glass of water on my bedside table. "It'll get cold."

He sounded a little more like himself as he smiled gently at me. I just stared at him, unable to find any words. He sat in the desk chair that was still by my bed. "Do I really need to spoonfeed you?"

He was going to give me whiplash. Doing as I was told, I spooned some soup into my mouth, sipping slowly. My stomach still felt a little off, but perhaps that was the hunger. Who knew how long it had been since I last ate? I didn't remember. Trying to think back was like trying to wade through thick black mud in search of a penny.

"Oppa." He flinched at my voice. Was I really not imagining it? "This is good."

He seemed relieved. Strangely so. Had he been worried about the quality of the soup? He gave me a strange look, "Of course it is. I made it."