"Annyeong…haseyo. You surprised me." You greet D.O. as nonchalantly as you can manage, tripping over the formality.

He stares down at you. "…"

"Um, I'll head back now…" You inch your way around him.

"How did you throw up when you didn't even eat anything?" He asks abruptly.

"W-what do you mean? I ate." Oh oh oh , you think.

He turns around to look down at you again. "Yah. I saw."

"I didn't throw up," you revise.

His lips tighten. "I'm not dumb."

At a loss for words, you just furrow your brow at him, teetering slightly on your feet.

He sighs. "Come back to the room and eat something. If you faint again, it'll only bother us more," he says uncomfortably.

You don't move. "I'm fine," you insist.

He purses his lips in disapproval and grabs your wrist. His eyes widen, but he manages, for the most part, to disguise his shock at the clamminess of your skin. Feels like a dead person.

As soon as the door opens onto the room in which the maknae line, Suho, and Chanyeol are still eating, the scent of grilling meat makes you break out of Kyungsoo's hold and bolt back to the bathroom.

Five minutes of retching and two minutes of desperate rinsing later, you drag the door open to meet Kyungsoo's irritated face.

"'I'm fine'?"

You slip around him, unable to meet his eyes as he stops you with a hand on your wrist. "Don't make me go back there," you plead, dreading the consequences of that ghastly aroma.

"You have to eat something."

You shake your head feebly. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," he retorts.

"Like what?" You lift your head and stare up at him.

"Like…" Kyungsoo wracks his brain. Something filling, but easy to digest. Something bland that won't trigger your gag reflex. The only thing he can come up with is congee, but he's unwilling to name it because you'll have to go to a Chinese restaurant to get it.

You blink and try to tug your arm out of his grip. "Like nothing."

"Like congee," he replies exasperatedly. "Let's go see if the others are done. They don't sell congee here." I just want to go home, he grumbles internally as he walks back to the room with you trailing behind. This time, he knows better than to open the door. Peering through the small windows, he despairs at the scene that greets him at each room. All of them are still eating. Pigs, the lot of them! he thinks disgustedly. He wanted to pass you off to someone, but it might be for the better, anyway. Better him than someone who would worry over you and stress himself out.

"Let's go," he sighs, resigned. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

***

Before leaving the restaurant, Kyungsoo pulls up the hood of his jacket and hides his face. His height is an advantage in these circumstances, making people less likely to pay attention to him. His designer clothes are a disadvantage. However, his love of black attire salvages the situation somewhat, and, hopefully, most people aren't out this late.

Even so, when he strides out of the restaurant, people begin to look in his direction. He braces himself for the screaming, feeling the familiar increase in heart rate. This time, though, nobody spares a second glance, because suddenly you call out.

"Chun Shik oppa!" You somehow find the strength to step lightly towards his side and hook your arm through his.

"Y-yah." The vocal stares down at you with his signature shocked expression and tries subtly to pull away. "What are you doing?"

"Now they think you're Chun Shik and we're dating. Only creepers like watching PDA," you explain, not letting him go. Also, without someone or something to hold onto, I'm going to fall over.

He looks around. Hm. Seems people really are avoiding looking at us. He looks at you. And it seems you're only telling half the truth. You look like you're dying. Frowning, he banishes the thought. "Fine, but only because we're never getting anywhere otherwise, with you in this condition."

To your surprise, he places a hand on your elbow and silently starts walking.

"How far is this place?" you ask, trying to ignore the masculinity suddenly radiating from him.

"Just a few minutes. It's the same place we were at last time."

"Araso…yo." You mentally berate yourself at the almost-faux pas. Informality is not a possibility with this reserved man who'd rather be anywhere than with you right now.

By the time you reach the restaurant, nearly your whole weight is on Kyungsoo. To your embarrassment, he doesn't wait to be led inside and instead walks right in. How presumptuous… though I suppose the manager is familiar with him. However, the medley of scents in the main body of the restaurant proves too strong for your temporarily delicate constitution, and you start to gag, clapping a desperate hand over your mouth. The desire to refrain from throwing up even motivates you to move towards the doorway.

Seeing this, Kyungsoo shakes his head firmly. "This won't do." He grabs your wrist, stopping you from exiting. Rummaging around in his pockets, he takes out the black mask he usually uses to disguise himself and shoves it at you.

You fix it over your nose and mouth with a mumbled word of thanks. It helps a little, but not much.

Briskly marching the two of you over to the manager, or rather, towing you over to the manager, he bows and says charmingly, "Annyeonghaseyo, noona. We'd like a private room, please."

"Annyeong. Our private rooms are all occupied right now," she says regretfully. "You'll have to wait a moment."

"Noona, I'm sorry too for putting you on the spot but we really need a private room right now, or J- um-" he pauses abruptly, having somehow totally forgot your real name.

"寶 (Bao)," you interject faintly but helpfully.

"-or Bao here is going to throw up. The scents out here are too strong," he explains. "Please, noona?"

She looks at you in alarm. "Araso, just wait a moment."

A thought strikes you. "Wait, oppa-"

Kyungsoo whips his head around when you call him this. "H-huh?"

"If we go into a private room together won't there be a scandal?"

He looks around. "Nobody's noticed us."

"Better to just leave," you murmur, tugging towards the door again.

His only reaction is to grip your wrist tighter. "Don't worry about me."

"I'm not!" you immediately reply, defensive. Now, why did I say that? "I mean-"

"Stop talking."

You shut up.

"If you're not leaving, you can let go of me now," he says blandly. You look down and see that he's already released his hold on your wrist. You're the one holding on to his arm.

You let go like his arm is on fire and latch onto one the wooden ornaments on the wall. You breathe shallowly, ignoring the shivers wracking you, and try to find your center. If I don't die today, Wiwat's going to kill me himself. I can already hear him yelling. "Number one principle of our discipline: LIVING A HEALTHY LIFESTYLE!"

"Hurry it up," Kyungsoo grinds out through his teeth, glaring daggers in the direction of the private rooms. He glances at you, and his eyes almost look worried. "Don't fall over," he commands you brusquely.

"I won't," you snap, still strong enough to voice your displeasure.

He shoots you a startled, appreciative look before turning to hide his face from the two customers who walk out from inside. "Took your time," he mutters, inaudible to all but you. You suppress a chuckle. "Kamsahamnida, noona." He thanks the manager, bowing, and gestures for you to follow.

You push off from the wall, take a few steps, and end up halfway towards the ground, clinging to the ledge running about a meter above the floor.

D.O. has to refrain from rushing over to you, but you flap a hand at him.

"Just a sec," you strain, head reeling. You don't like people helping you, and you especially don't want Kyungsoo helping you, not when he has that long-suffering expression on his face.

Annoyingly enough, he grabs your arm and lifts you up. "Hold onto me," he reluctantly directs. When you try and walk by yourself, he rolls his eyes and holds your elbow. "Fine. We'll walk like this."

Finally, the two of you are ensconced in the warm private room.

He orders a plain congee and sits back, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You're slumped onto the table, still except for the occasional tremor.

The congee arrives quickly, and he blows on it, cooling it for you.

"Sit up."

You drag yourself upright and stare at the congee before you. Even the smell of the cooked rice is making your stomach churn. Your unwillingness is evident, but Kyungsoo won't take no for an answer.

"Either you eat it or we sit here all night."

"I-"

"I'll call Kris and tell him to come force-feed you."

You cringe. "Please don't tell Kris," you beg. "He's going to kill me."

"You're going to kill yourself at this rate," Kyungsoo retorts. "Eat, or I really will tell him."

Silent, you pick up the spoon.

Three spoonfuls later, you begin to gag despite yourself. Pushing away from the table, you take a couple of steps towards the door.

Kyungsoo stands up as well, calm on the exterior. "Have to throw up?" He places an oddly gentle hand under your elbow and guides you to the bathroom.

***

Outside the bathroom, Kyungsoo flags down a passing waiter and orders chicken soup. Pulling out his phone, which has been buzzing incessantly for the past several minutes, he checks his texts and groans.

From: Baek

Where are you guys? Kris hyung is going insane. And Sehun is getting a little scary.

From: Maknae Sehunnie

Hyung, oediya? What happened? Is noona okay?

Ugh. Kyungsoo wants to just turn off his phone, but he sighs and forces himself to read the rest.

From: Kris hyung

Kyungsoo-yah, oediya? Jagi isn't answering her phone.

From: Leader Suho

Kyungsoo-yah, where did you go?

From: Kris hyung

Are you with Jagi?

From: Kris hyung

Yah, reply!

And so on of the same thing. Kyungsoo sends a mass text and gives up on the situation.

To: Maknae Sehunnie, Kris hyung, Leader Suho, Baek…

I have her. We're fine. Go back to the dorm first.

***

After throwing up the little you forced down, you're towed steadily back to the room, where a bowl of steaming chicken soup is waiting. The slightly stringent scent doesn't trigger your gag reflex, and you try to take a cautious sip before D.O. can stop you.

Ouch. You put down the spoon immediately, having scalded your tongue.

Irritated, D.O. takes the bowl away from you and starts cooling it for you.

"I'm not a baby," you complain.

"Then stop acting like one."

Being taken care of is nice, but it reminds you of your parents. Subdued, you stare at the table and fidget with your bandages.

"Stop that."

You stop. "What company is BTOB under?"

"Cube. Why?" he replies tersely.

"Nothing. Just wondering…" You fidget a little more, but stop when he clears his throat meaningfully.

D.O. is an enigma. He doesn't seem to like you, but he cares enough to even brave the public and walk you to get food.

"Kyungsoo-ssi."

He doesn't respond.

"Kyungsoo-ssi."

He looks up, startled. "Yes?" Why is she calling me Kyungsoo-ssi again? Why not oppa?

"Mian…haeyo." You're used to being informal with people both older and younger than you, since most people like you enough to allow it, so this is kind of awkward for you.

"Waeyo?"

"You don't like me."

He hesitates.

"Do you dislike me?"

He looks at you in disbelief. "Do you think I'd be helping you at all if I disliked you?"

"Yes. I think you're a nice person, oppa. You just care about EXO, so you don't like me. I only cause trouble," you reply, watching him cool the soup. "Thank you for helping me even though you dislike me."

 He nods. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

You shake your head. "Nothing."

Kyungsoo sighs. "Didn't you major in medicine? Diagnose yourself."

You sigh. "Dehydration, mental and physical exhaustion, depression…" Before you can stop yourself, you add, "post-traumatic stress disorder." You sit up, alarmed. "Forget that last one. That's got nothing to do with this."

He narrows his eyes at you but opts to stay focused on the current situation. "What happened?"

You open your mouth to say "Nothing" but you suddenly feel the need to talk about what you're going through. It's almost a relief when you answer with the truth. "My parents were killed in a car crash."