Jonghyun

I shut the door open carefully. Kibum might be sleeping, I don't want to wake him up.
He hasn't been sleeping well lately, I can tell. I'm not too sure if he's even succeeded in sleeping well since we've started living together. When you have beds right beside each other, it's easy to hear someone tossing and turning about at night, sighing, mumbling, sometimes even crying. I often wonder whether I should get out and comfort him, but I'm worried he'll just push me away, or tense up and freak out even more. I can't get him to trust me. I can't get him to trust anybody.

Slipping into the bedroom, I glance at the top bunk for Kibum's sleeping figure. It isn't there.  
Worry and panic swirls around my stomach. Where is he? 

On the floor.
Kibum is sprawled on the floor, eyes shut, and upon moving closer I can see the tear stains on his flushed cheeks, hear his labored breathing. What happened? Did he fall off the bed? Or did he just crawl onto the floor because it was cooling? I gently press the back of my palm to his forehead, he's burning up, really badly. I briefly wonder whether or not I should get him to a hospital, or a doctor, at the very least. He can't stay here, that's for certain. 

"Kibum?" In an attempt to wake him, I shake his shoulder. "Key?"
Soft, distressed murmurs fall from his lips. I can't make out what he's trying to say.
"Kibum-ah, you can't stay on the floor, get back into bed, alright?" 
The same whimpers. What hurts? Is he having another bad dream? What should I do? 

"Kibum? Are you okay?" What a stupid question, really. He's obviously not okay. I can't wake him up, but I can't leave him here