c h a p t e r  f o u r t e e n.

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Suddenly Chen broke away, turning aside for a coughing fit. He coughed for a good few minutes while Wendy watched, it being her turn to be bewildered.

                That was it. That was all that her conviction had needed.

                Now, she was sure that she was completely, irrevocably connected to him.

                Wendy was forced to snap out of her epiphany, however, when Chen made a pained sound.

                “Ooh.” he groaned, putting his forefinger and thumb to his temple. “...My head.” Wendy reached out, placing her palm flat on his forehead. He was more than just warm, he was burning.

                “Fever.” she said, her absent expression fading. “...When was the last time you took medicine for it?”

                “I haven’t.”

                Her eyebrows became a disapproving ‘V’. Truth be told, she was quite angry, and was trying to think of a way to chide him without sounding to harsh or mean. She breathed out through her nose.

                “I’m sorry.” he said. He looked to miserable that Wendy softened.

                “It’s okay.” she said, quietly. “But you really should take better care of yourself. Don’t make me worry about you so much. Here━“ She reached down into her bag and retrieved a small bottle of Tylenol. Shaking two tablets onto her hand, she reached over to grab his glass of water (thankfully, he was drinking water at least!) and helped him take the medicine. “This will keep your fever down for a few hours and hopefully it will break by morning.”

                Afterwards, she moved the pillows that were propping him up and assisted him with lying back down. “Comfortable?” she asked.

                “Yes.”

                “I’ll be right back.” Wendy stood up and motioned towards the bathroom. “I’ll get a wet towel, too.”

                “Okay.”

                He watched her as she got up and walked away, disappearing into the bathroom and closing the door behind her. When she had left his line of vision, he sank the back of his head into the pillow, shut his eyes, and tried to take long, deep breaths.

                What are you doing, Jongdae?

                No... Nothing, nothing.

                That didn’t happen.

                This isn’t real.

                It can’t be.

                When he opened his eyes again he saw the white stucco ceiling above him. His eyes languidly followed the furrows in the distinctive texture, wandering about without sense or purpose. Within his chest, his heart continued to beat far above a normal rate.

                No. Don’t think that.

                The three words...?

                Never think that.

                Is it possible that this is real?

                It’s a lie.

                Chen blinked away the tears. Coughing again, he felt every one of his aching muscles pull and contract. His stomach turned, trying desperately to cope with containing food again.

                She cares, though.

                She cares about you.

                He knew what that meant. Caring meant something deeper than consideration. Love, in the greatest sense of the word, meant wanting to the good of another pers