I stare at him blankly. “What did you just say?”

               Jongin returns my look innocently, not finding his offer as scandalizing as I interpret it to be. “I mean, if you need to go to the toilet first or something. Still some time until the bus, and another half an hour to your house -“ he stops halfway. “- if that’s still where it is.”

               He still remembers where I live. “Oh. I moved. But yeah… Similar distance.” I look at my shoes, and contemplate for a few seconds. “I think I need the toilet.”

               Jongin still lives in that apartment across the clinic, only a few buildings from the bus stop. Dragging myself to the second floor is a struggle, and Jongin turns his head back a few times to check on me.

               I look away when he punches in the password, but from the sound, I guess it’s still the same from before. 8888. “Come in. Turn right for the toilet.”

               “Okay. Thanks.” I grit my teeth as I attempt to move. My whole body aches so much, and I’m actually shivering but I try to make it unnoticeable. I can feel Jongin’s eyes on me even though he headed to the living room. I enter the bathroom as fast as possible, and lock the door.

               After checking, my worry is confirmed - it’s here. I’m not usually this helpless, I think this gets worse because of fatigue. My head is spinning, and my lower body feels especially heavy.

               I finished my business and it’s time to get out, but I have no strength to move. I sit above the closed toilet lid and lean on the tank behind my back, trying to compose myself. Oh no, if I keep being this way I’m going to miss the bus -

               I don’t even know if I could go back to the bus stop and arrive home in one piece in this condition. My parents are on a trip to my maternal grandparents’ house in Jeonju, and they’ll be back in two days. I’m going to be miserable at home alone.

               “Joo Dana?” Jongin knocks on the door, bringing my soul back to this small bathroom.

               “Yeah. I’m coming.”

               “Just making sure you’re still breathing.”

               I laugh through my nose, but soon the pain fights back. “I am. Hold on.”

               I open my eyes wide, trying to appear alive. Jongin is waiting outside the door when I open it. “You’re clearly sick.” he reads my face.

               I breathe out loudly and walk past him. “I’ll be fine.”

               A second after I said that, my head blanks out and I lose my balance. I hit the door knob of his bedroom on my side, and I close my eyes. “Ouch.”

               “Jeez.” Jongin holds onto my upper arms and helps me stand up straight again. “Can you even go home in this condition?”

               My breath is getting heavier, and I can’t even speak. Jongin softly releases me, but stays close in this narrow corridor. “Do you want to lie down?”

               “Huh?”

               He opens his bedroom, revealing his bed. Actually lying down would feel so good right now, but I know I can’t. “No, no. I’m going to miss the bus.”

               “Do you want to take the taxi instead? Or is there someone who can pick you up?”

               “Taxi, yeah.” a stinging pain comes to my head, and I place a hand on my temple. “There’s currently nobody at home.”

               “Well.” Jongin says under his breath. “So?”

               “I really want to at least sit down right now. May I?”

               Jongin opens the door wider, and he lets me in. I cautiously sit down on the side of his bed, and Jongin leaves the room. He comes back soon after with a glass of water, and hands it to me. It’s warm. I take a sip, and the sheer heat comforts my insides. “Much better.”

               “Where does it hurt?” Jongin stands up in front of me

               I just realized I have one hand on my lower stomach, and I put it down. “All over.”

               “Do you need painkillers?”

               “For now, no.”

               “You can lie down if you want.”

               I look up to meet his eyes hesitantly. Jongin has his brows drawn together.

               “I swear I won’t do anything.”

               “No, it’s not that -” I shake my head. “Is it okay?”

               “Of course. Just helping out a… friend.”

               I blink. Since the morning we had banters, guarded each other’s belongings, took turns taking photos, went through two cities together and he even told me about his breakup. Wow, we’ve really become friends. “Whoa.”

               “What’s with the ‘whoa’?”

               “Nothing.” I slowly lift my legs and place them on the bed. “I’m just moved.” I lean back and adjust my head to the pillow. This feels so comfortable. I touch the folded blanket on my side, and look at Jongin to get his approval. He nods.

               "I just changed the sheet and blanket the night before going to the orphanage."

               "So you've used it."

               Jongin sends me a lazy look. "Yeah. Once. Not like it's going to smell foul."

               I smile, and drape it over me. I breathe in, and I think I can smell a little bit of him. But the main scent of this blanket is so good, probably it’s the fabric softener. It’s fruity, fresh and calming at the same time. “It smells wonderful though. What do you use?”

               “Gotta ask the laundry parlor.” he shrugs. “I’m leaving for a bit.” Jongin walks out without a word and I look at the open door. Some time later he comes back with something bundled on a small towel, and hands it to me. "If it's what I think it is, maybe this could be useful. A substitute for a heating pad.”

               I take it, and it's a water bottle filled with hot water. "Wow. Not even my mom prepares this for me."

               "It's been a habit, under the threat of my sister." Jongin shrugs. "I guess you're the quiet type. My sister's literally a fire-bursting dragon on her days."

               I chuckle for a second.

               "I guess this is why you've been so sentimental recently." Jongin mutters.

               I glare at him, but have nothing to object with.

               "Either way, it must be agonizing. Well then, just rest."

               "Thanks. I appreciate it."

               "It's nothing." Jongin's voice is almost unheard as he walks to the door and prepares to close it. “You can lock it from the inside. If you want.”

               “Got it.”

               Jongin clicks the door close, and I exhale audibly. I stare at the white-colored ceiling and let my mind wander. Here I am, in Kim Jongin’s bedroom again. Now I’m even the one who’s using the bed.

               I close my eyes, and try to breathe normally. I did have some sleep in the bus, but not in this cozy position. I think I can nap again.

               The calm silence and nice fragrance brings peace to my head, and for a moment I can forget about my discomfort.

*

               In my dream, there’s Jongin in it. There’s nobody else, and we’re walking together along an empty street. We do it quite a lot these past few days, don’t we?

               Jongin is smiling a lot, but the me in my dream is feeling sad because we’re going to be separated soon, for whatever reason. Jongin finds out about it, and he feels down too.

               “Where are you going?” I ask.

               “I don’t know. Far away.” Jongin answers, and soon we need to leave to our own paths. My subconsciousness realizes the absurdity, but the dream gets deeper.

               “You can’t.”

               The situation is getting intense, and we refuse to say goodbye to each other. My subconscious self appears again. Why can’t I? Why does it matter if he leaves? I can also go first. But the me here seems so fragile.

               Jongin eventually disappears, and I appear brokenhearted. I’m very aware it’s just a dream, and I clearly don’t share the same sentiments in real life, but why -

               I wake up with a racing heart, and moist eyes. When I blink I realize Jongin is sitting on the bedside next to my waist, looking at me in worry. His concerned look reminds me of the dream, and I keep staring at him.

               “A bad dream?” Jongin carefully asks. “Sorry to enter the room again. You kept whimpering in your sleep…”

               I grab the end of his sleeve near my hand, and hold onto it tightly for security. Jongin looks at my hand then at me in confusion, but says nothing.

               Neither of us moves for some time after that.