ONE HELL OF A SUMMER :: minsung ✔︎

𝐬𝐢𝐱 | 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐭

"You alright?"

Minho's words startle me as I stumble to breakfast. His alarm didn't wake anyone up today except for him, and Minho kindly woke the rest of us up.

"M'fine. Tired. Fine." That isn't true. My head is pounding; my lungs feel shriveled up, as if they're dying. I feel like whatever I eat for breakfast won't stay in my stomach long enough to be digested.

Minho nods, obviously not believing me. "Sure. If you need anything, feel free to ask me. You look sick, by the way."

I weakly glare at him. "I. Am. Fine."

"You heard the short dude. He's fine!" Hyunjin jokes, slinging his arm around my shoulders. I nearly collapse, my weak legs trembling.

"Totally fine," I force out.

We reach the cafeteria before Minho can say anything else, thankfully. "Try eating something, Jisung," Minho says. Where did this caring side suddenly come from? Not that I'm complaining.

I grimace as I eye the cereal placed in front of me. It's cereal. It can't hurt you. I take a small bite. Nope. This isn't going to work. I cant even bring myself to swallow it. "I-I can't..." I mumble. My vision swims.

I open my eyes. When did I close them? There's a bed beneath me and a man standing over me similarly to how Minho did last night. Trying to remember that far back hurts my brain.

The man gives me a warm, kind smile. His eyes crinkle around the edges, displaying lovable smile wrinkles. I instantly trust him. "Who..?" I begin.

His chuckle is smooth and satisfying to hear. "I'm Jaehyun. And you, my friend, took quite a nasty hit. Your fever is...... not good. You'll be fine in a few days; unfortunately, you'll miss out on some camp activities.

"Are you homesick? Sometimes this causes people to feel bad. I looked at your schedule; you went fishing yesterday. Any cuts that could've gotten infected? You didn't eat a raw fish, right?" he continues.

I need a moment to process everything. This Jaehyun guy can't be older than twenty-five years old, yet he's got smile wrinkles around his eyes and a a healthy knowledge of sicknesses. "You look really young" is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. "Uh, I mean—I didn't eat raw fish."

Talking hurts a little, so I take a sip of the water that Jaehyun offers me. "Ouch, that looked painful. Try not to strain yourself and drink water, Jisung. You should also thank your friend over there. He carried you here when you faceplanted into your cereal. The milk will be a nightmare to clean up, by the way."

I glance over in the direction Jaehyun indicated. Confirming my suspicions, Minho gives me a small wave. I only groan and shut my eyes as a response, resting my head against the soft pillow at the top of the bed. Minho takes this as a sign to come to my side.

"Sorry if you didn't want to be carried," he apologizes. What? Why would he need to be sorry?

I let myself grin a little. "Don't be sorry. Who knows how much vomit would be everywhere if you hadn't?"

Jaehyun and Minho exchange a glance.

"Let's just say that, although the milk won't be fun to clean, the floor is even less thrilling." Jaehyun smiles reassuringly. "It's fine, though. Being the first camper to vomit isn't all that bad. Soon, everyone in the camp will know you by face and by name! Who wouldn't want to be famous?"

Me. I wouldn't. "Not I," I lie. "Being known by everyone. Yay."

"Exactly!" Jaehyun feels my forehead one last time before leaving the room. He whispers something to Minho in his way out, causing Minho to glance at me with worry.

"You should've listened to me," he says. "I knew you didn't feel good from the start. Plus, your forehead was burn—"

He blushes and turns his head away, stopping in the middle of his sentence. "My forehead was what?"

So this is what happened last night, huh? How did he know I would feel bad? Did I already look sick last night?

"You were sweating in your sleep. I felt your forehead yeste—when I woke you up." Minho scratches his ear, something that is obviously easier said than done by the way he's struggling.

I nod, totally believing him. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me, like, paper or something? I wanna write to my friend."

Minho leaves the room, nodding. I hear him asking for letter paper and a pen from Jaehyun, who gives them to him. He returns with a condition. "I'll write for you. I don't want you to strain yourself."

I groan. "Who are you and what have you done with the jackass I know?" Minho only raises an eyebrow at me, as if to say, I could always stop being nice. I don't want him to stop; I like nice Minho. He's nice. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you what to write."

Minho nods, holding the pen over the paper, waiting.

Thinking hard, I squeeze my eyes shut.

How am I going to encrypt this message?