“Have you gone to the doctor?”

“No,” he groaned, icing his ankle again. He really had to stop overworking it, and he grimaced as he rotated it.

“Let me see,” Chaeyeon frowned, and he lifted his leg. She gently rubbed circles into a tender spot, and his ankle loosened. “How long?”

“It’s been bothering me since Hong Kong,” he admitted, and her eyes flash up.

“Do you want me to speak my mind, or do you want me to give you my sympathy?”

Jongin lifted a single eyebrow. It was obvious which one, “The first.”

“Please go to a doctor,” her voice is soft, unlike the heat in her eyes. She was clearly not happy with him, but rarely did he see her so stripped down and vulnerable about it.

Maybe it was because he was afraid of hearing bad news, maybe it was because he didn’t want to be told that he needed to take a month off, or maybe it was because he didn’t know how to actually take care of himself, but somewhere along the way he had convinced himself he just needed to ice it and take days off instead of going to the doctor. Her eyes broke through that uncertainty.

Jongin didn’t need her. He knew he didn’t. He was his own person, but he was scared of hearing the truth, “If I go, will you come with me?”

She nodded slowly.

“And can you be part of my choreography?”

“Your choreography?”

“The song you heard the o