Chapter 11: Taking Care

Spring

Inspite of the twinge of pain in my chest whenever I let my guard down and memories of MinHo crept in, there was one enduring  more than me, and my heart reached out for him.

SeHun suffered terribly for his situation. Word soon spread of his ruin. Not a word of sympathy was found only criticism. Through it all he kept a strong face, but when I came over for SooMin’s piano lessons I could see that he was undergoing a lot internally.

His heart and energy died out and were replaced with regret and brooding. His pride and spirit of contrition made him stay in his room or his den as much as possible. Once, when he wandered out for a glass of water, I asked him why he replied, “Because I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

YunHee came up with the idea of inviting SeHun out for a night of distraction. There were plenty of things SeHun used to do all the time but now no longer seemed to care for: dinner, clubs, the movies, norebang. . . Even though I disliked doing things like that, I set aside my preferences for his. After all, SeHun’s happiness was connected to my happiness. We extended the invitation several times, but he always chose to stay at home. SooMin also reported that whenever someone came over, aside from me that is, he’d vanish to his room or den until they left. As the weeks passed and this behavior continued, my pain for SeHun grew to concern for his well-being.

It was under these circumstances that Mrs. Oh called me to cancel SooMin’s lessons for the week as she and her husband were taking the girl with them on a short trip to Jeju to oversee the preparation of their vacation home for putting on the market. The term hadn’t ended so SeHun would need to stay for classes.

Only a couple days after they left, I got a concerned call from Mrs. Oh asking me to go check up on her son. “He’s not been picking up his phone and no one’s seen him at school. Oh HyeYeong-ah! I’m worried something may have happened to him.”

There was something unsettling in her voice. My mind recalled SeHun’s behavior the past few weeks. He’d been withdrawn, talked about not wanting to be a burden to others, lost interest in things he once loved, slept most of the day. . .

I knew the signs and hoped it was not too late for me to do something.

I dropped everything and headed straight over.

Mr. Oh had called the building manager who let me in the apartment. I immediately went to SeHun’s room. Under his covers, his body lay splayed restlessly. There was no movement. All was eerily still.  

I took a breath, “SeHun,” I called softly. He didn’t stir.

I stepped closer.

“SeHun?” Still no response.

Dear God don’t tell me he’s. . . No! Don’t even think that HyeYeong!

But it was too late. My mind was already beginning to panic. “SeHun?!” I frantically called as I closed the final steps to the bed.

He moaned and turned to his side.

Thank God! I thought. He’s alive!

His eyes fluttered open at my touch, and I sighed with relief. I hadn’t realized that I had been holding my breath. His brow furrowed in confusion and his breathing was labored.

“H-h-hyeyeong?” he mumbled in confusion.

“Yes, it’s me SeHun,” I beamed as I gazed into his fever-hazed eyes. My boy, my rambunctious city boy was alive! If I wanted I could fly!

I reached out and brushed away the strands of his hair that clung to his forehead. He didn’t have a fever; it was more like he was a pool of lava. Instinct made me grab his hand. It was so cold.

“Where does your mother keep medications?”

“Bathroom,” was his one word response.

He was struggling to sit up so I leaned forward to help. It was as he came up from the covers that I noticed he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The sight made my eyes widen. I gazed longer than I should have. My eyes traced the contours of his abs and pecs; I’d known his shoulders had always been broad, but without a shirt I could see their form much better. It was these that I wrapped my arms around to help SeHun sit up. Touching his body made me feel like I had caught his fever.

“Alright,” I sighed. “I’m going to go get you some medicine, make you some porridge, and get you a shirt young man!” I tried using my most mother-like tone to give my mind something to focus on aside from his beautifully sculpted half- form.

“What? Don’t like what you see?” he said playfully. His voice was raspy.

I just rolled my eyes and walked out of the room. Glad to know he’s still his normal self even while sick. I soon found an antipyretic, filled a glass with water, and soaked a hand towel with cool water. I returned to the bedroom.

“Here,” I said as I pushed the pills against his lips. They parted allowing the medicine to slip in. With his eyes half-open-half-closed, he took a sip of the water I offered him. Some water didn’t make it inside so I used my thumb to wipe the excess off his lips. They were full and smooth.

“Here, let’s get this shirt on you. Can you raise your arms for me please?” He was so weak that his elbows stayed bent and his hands only reached eye level. This’ll have to do. It was awkward and difficult, but eventually I managed to put the shirt on him.

“Alright, now down we go,” I said as I helped him lie back down which was significantly easier than helping him sit up. Using the damp cloth I dabbed the sweat from his face. “Oh SeHun! You need to take better care of yourself.”

His eyes had already closed and he had snuggled under the blankets, so I doubt he heard me. I quietly shut the door and went down to the kitchen to make him some porridge. As I made it, I called Mrs. Oh and updated her on the situation. She was relieved because she had imagined the worse.

A while later I re-entered SeHun’s room carrying a tray with porridge, a glass, a pitcher of ice water, and more medicine. I was surprised to see him sitting upright against the bed frame.

“Feeling better?” I asked as I walked across the room.

“A little, thank you,” he replied. His voice was still hoarse, but his color had improved, and when I felt his forehead his fever, while still present, had been reduced.

“You have to eat.”

“OK mom!” he responded sarcastically.

I held up the spoon, but as I advanced it towards his mouth he said, “Ya! I’m a grown man! I can feed myself,” and grabbed the spoon from me. His hands were still shaky and his eyes rolled like the world was still spinning; he fell back against the frame.

“Of course you can!” I smirked. I took the spoon back and began to feed him.

Please log in to read the full chapter