Yes, I puked. And for you senseless people that can't stand anything graphic, I'll describe it for you. It was puke everywhere. Gross, disgusting, and not a nice feeling. That is what I did for atleast, five minutes. To finish this off, a grossed out Yoogeun and Minho did not help when they kept looking at me like poop.

They pushed me to the ocean for atleast an hour, which is ridiculous.

Now with wet hair, wet clothes, and a salty breath instead of puke, I was fresh and clean in their perspectives. I'm not completely clean of course. I don't smell like shampoo, body wash, or conditioner, but I do agree in feeling fresh. I don't feel that irresistible feeling of mud in my legs and in my skirt. I felt like a princess compared to the past few days.

"Oh, you have white skin! I couldn't see that because of the dirt for the past few days." His teasing wouldn't stop, but it was better than having a pissed off Minho with a migraine. I ignored him sometimes like I usually did back to our ordinary lives, or I snapped back when I felt like it.

I felt like snapping back this time. "Oh shut up, Mr. I can't survive without eating." I laughed at his glare. "Who gets a migraine for not eating in eight hours?" I laughed at his earlier demeanor. 

My hazels' focused on the roll of his eyes, but his actions focused on twisting the roasting squirrel in the fire. The cave bright against the steam, it was actually a very nice night compared to the other cold breezes of the night we suffer with. I looked around, going back to the dead squirrel. Now roasted and cooked, it seemed delicious and attracting to my nostrils. Food.

"Now you want it, huh?" Minho grinned as he caught me drooling for the little creature. I blushed slightly at my idiotic face while he only chuckled. "What do you want? Legs?" His hands twisted the branch holding the squirrel. "It's almost done."

I nodded silently while I reached for my knees. Did I say Yoogeun had fallen asleep? He did hours ago, yet still hasn't woken up. "That boy can sleep for days." I watched Minho's eyes turn in the toddler's direction with a nod.

"Better than having a troublesome kid running around and crying every second of the day." I couldn't agree more. What I most hated was noisy children, too stubborn and spoiled to be handled. I loved kids, but I hated their young ways of personalities when they owned specific ones. On the good side, Yoogeun was not that type of boy...Yoogeun was unique. My observations for the boy were growing.

And so was my observation on Minho's past injury. "How is the scratch going?" Slowly, I reached for a closer look which had me sitting besides him. I didn't find it awkward in any way by Minho's soft smile and his head slowly looking oover the injury which was now healing by it's own. No more throbbing or swelling, it just had the long scab going through his skin in a dark tone of color.

"Just waiting for it to be back to normal. This would've never been solved without your medical ways, so It's pretty okay." His hand moving to show no pain in it, I giggled as a welcome to his thankful words.

It was weird how from one day to another, we actually worked together with no problems. I remember so clearly the time I couldn't stand him just by sight, and now I can actually live through life with his prescence close to mine. I guess beig stranded changes you? I still had dislikes to his ways and past insults towards me, but right now I had no single problem with Minho. If you could say, Minho was slowly becoming an acquaintance.

His voice snapped me out from my thoughts. "How did you even learn to cure?" I turned towards Minho with furrowed eyebrows.

I shrugged. "In middle school I needed half a year of health class to pass the grade or else I would fail the semester. It was health or speech, and I was in no position to be presenting every week or so." Minho questioned me with his expressio and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Oh come on, I'm the shy/quiet Choi Jinri...Do you think I would want to be talking in front of class?" Minho just shrugged, "Exactly." I finished with a teasing grin.

"What's so bad about presenting?" Couldn't he understand my shyness? I wasn't myself without a reason. I'm a person who hates to talk overall, why should I be attracted towards the fact of talking to a whole audience of people that consisted of fifty percent judging and fifty percent ignoring?

Since Minho was a stubborn male who couldn't keep up with my advanced way of thinking, I shrugged. "I get horrible butterflies in my stomach that I can't handle."

"Butterflies? Never heard of that...How does it feel?" I laughed at his serious face. "What? I have never experienced butterflies." I laughed louder at his obliviousness. Sometimes, this boy could be too gullible for his own good.

"Having butterflies is like when your stomach twistes and turns. It's also like you get nervous but also nauseated. Like if you want to run and jump instead of standing still." I explained thorougly, hoping for his aprehension to come in. 

It did, and his head nodded to me. His sly look turned to me with a grin. "So that's butterflies?" Something was off. I knew it by his eyes squinting and his mouth twi