It was three days later when Jinki finally decided to wake up, stumbling into the kitchen while blearily wiping the sleep away from his eyes. You looked up from stirring the noodles you were cooking only when he called your name and just in time to see his legs cross over one another and cause him to tumble onto the floor in a large heap.

    "So you're better?" you asked, feeling too tired to even walk to him to help…which was a jerk move, yes, but really, during those three days that Jinki had been sick, you had hobbled around on your leg or crutches, which was a lot harder and energy consuming than it appeared.

    "Are you cooking?" Jinki asked, continuing to rub his eyes and pulling himself back up to his feet. "It smells good."

    "Cooking, cleaning, dying," you muttered, turning back to the noodles and stirring them furiously. After only three days you were exhausted; you couldn't imagine how tired Jinki must've been doing this daily.

    "This is breakfast." You nodded toward the noodles on the stove and flipped off the stove burner, barely making the effort to fall into the chair at the kitchen table rather than the ground.

    Jinki shuffled toward the stove and quickly brought out plates and glasses, setting the table as you tried to solve the problems of your sweaty hands. It took you a few moments to realize that Jinki was calling your name. You looked up, caught his worried expression, and decided that it was time for you to go to sleep. It  was only a few steps before Jinki reached out and helped you to the couch.
    
    "But this is your bed," you whined, trying to point to your room but feeling sluggish and exhausted.

    "It's closer to the kitchen," Jinki reasoned, and you found yourself unable to argue as he wrapped you carefully in the blankets and set you down. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, coughing slightly as you did. The blankets smelled distinctly masculine, probably because Jinki had sweat into them for the duration of his sickness. It was actually kind of gross if you thought about it, but right now, you didn't want to think; you only wanted to sleep.

    Jinki called your name, and you opened your eyes, groaning as he touched something warm to your lips. It was the noodles you had cooked before; he was trying to feed you.

    "Thank—" Your words were cut off as noodles were harshly shoved down your mouth, and you coughed violently, sending him skittering backwards and then quickly forward again to pat your back.

    "Sorry," Jinki cried, bowing down his head in what seemed to be defeat. "I've never really taken care of a sick person before…I—"

    "Slower," you commanded, eyeing the new chopstick-full of noodles that he was holding warily. He took your advice and shakily held up the chopsticks to your mouth, and you quickly devoured the noodles on them. "Again." He repeated the process, but this time he accidentally sloshed some of the soup onto your shoulder.

    "I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I just can't do this right."

    You tried to smile over the burning pain on your shoulder and quickly lifted up the soaked fabric from your skin. "Can I have an ice pack please?" you asked, voice strained, and bit back a small gasp of surprise as Jinki managed to trip on the way to the refrigerator, scattering pieces of glass and noodles everywhere.

    "Stop!" you ordered as Jinki crouched down. "Don't touch those glass pieces!" Groaning, you swung out of bed and grabbed the crutches lying by the dresser. The world spun around you for a second, but you shut your eyes tight and waited for a few seconds before opening them again to a stilled view.  "There's a broom and dustpan over there." You motioned toward the corner of the kitchen. "Use it to sweep up the glass; don't touch it with your hands. I'll go get the ice pack."

    Jinki obediently retrieved the broom and began to sweep up the glass pieces as you skillfully maneuvered your way to the fridge and quickly eased your burning shoulder.

    "Are you done with—" You turned around to see Jinki standing over the dustpan filled with glass shards, tears streaming down his cheeks.

    "I'm sorry," he repeated again, staring down at the dustpan. "I've never taken care of somebody before. I spilled soup on you, broke your bowl, and didn't even get your ice pack for you. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, but instead you're taking care of me." He looked down at the dustpan of glass and quickly dumped it into the trashcan before hastily wiping at his eyes.

    "Did your parents not take care of you when you were a child?" you asked calmly, walking forward to grasp Jinki's wrist gently. He didn't pull away, but he did stiffen, sending your back straightening.

    "I'm sorry if I touched on a bad subject," you continued, "but you've really been a great help. I mean…I probably wouldn't have even made it this far. Remember, I couldn't even make it up the stairs alone." You laughed awkwardly and then tried to think of more things to say as Jinki's breaths continued to hitch.

    "Jinki-oppa," you finally said, grabbing his hands. "Jinki-oppa, thank you so much for all you've done to me." Then you grabbed him into a hug, confused on what else to do. He was stiff at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, his arms came up around you and squeezed back.

    "You don't need to be the perfect caretaker," you muttered shyly, ducking your head slightly against his shoulder and gauging his reaction before letting it stay there. "I like you, you know." You immediately coughed loudly and amended your statement. "You're a really good roommate."

    "Thank you," Jinki said sincerely, and you smiled before quickly making your way back to the couch and collapsing.

    "Wake me up in fifteen minutes," you murmured sleepily, feeling the throbbing headache that you were trying to hold back break out behind the mental barrier you had tried to set up. "Actually, make that ten hours…"

    It really was after ten hours when you woke up, blinking sleep out of your eyes as you tried to fight down panic at the blackness around you. It's nighttime, you reasoned. Of course it would be black. Yet some fear did enter your veins, and you quickly sat up to scramble over to the kitchen table where faint slivers of moonlight made their way in through the window. Yawning, you let your head fall to the kitchen table with a thump and stared mindlessly at the peeling wallpaper. Your apartment was really becoming a dump; you should renovate it soon.

    The buzzing of your phone in your pocket made you lift up your head off the table and check the dim screen, squinting at the text on the screen.

    Are you free this weekend? A girl gave me four tickets to a musical. It would be a nice way to have fun this hot summer, right? Kekekeke. Invite Jinki-hyung along too! It'll be awesome! ~ Himchan-oppa

    "Ah!" you exclaimed, burying your head into your arms and coughing slightly. "If I reject, it looks like I'm still pining over him, but if I accept…" Sighing, you glanced at the text message again and closed your eyes to mull it over. Perhaps it should have been expected that you would fall asleep at the table because by the time you opened your eyes, the clock on your phone flashed a different time and a new message alert flashed across your screen.

    "What is it now?" you groaned, instinctively opening up the new message on your phone.

    Hehe, I'm glad you accepted~. We'll have lots of fun, won't we~? I attached the flyer with the address and time for the musical. Can't wait until this weekend~~~!

    "When…" you asked but trailed off after checking your sent texts. "I don't remember agreeing to this!" You glared at your screen but eventually shut your eyes again, quickly reminded of your uneasy stomach as your eyes began to ache from staring at the screen too long. You made a mental note to ask Jinki about the text tomorrow and quickly drifted back to sleep.

    As your conscious faded, you were faintly aware of a light warmth trailing over your shoulders and then moving to rest at the junction between your neck and collarbone. Warm breath touched your cheek and then ghosted over your eyelids before you felt a soft pressure on your forehead.

    Smells like chicken, you thought, before slipping in an uneasy sleep plagued by feverish dreams.