Sick (ii)
(double update, 31 & 32)

I find my stance softening, my teeth nibbling on my lower lip in enchantment. Whoever Daehyun loves must have saved an entire nation in his past life to be treated like this. Who exactly is he? Someone with a noble heart? An impeccable face? A thousand skills?

Ah, I shouldn’t be snooping around. I glance back to Daehyun, consoled to see he has calmed down from his bout of aggressive sneezing, and exit the room. A strange sensation swarms my chest as I shrug it off, heading to the kitchen. I search for a pot, finding one of a suitable size and quietly filling it with water. I take out the rice, scooping up a small portion. Daehyun won’t have much of an appetite since he’s sick.

It’s then that I hear shuffling, the sound getting progressively louder. I spin around, blinking to see Daehyun standing by the counter with a blanket draped over him. He sniffles, yawning widely and cradling the flask of tea.

“Are you okay?” I pace up to him in concern. Daehyun nods, continuing to stand by the kitchen silently. “Why did you come out?” I ask.

He parts his lips, blinking slowly, before he ultimately shuts his mouth. I quizzically put a hand to his forehead, sighing in relief to see the fever has went down. “You should rest,” I urge, guiding Daehyun back to the hallway. He does not budge, veering back to me and clearing his throat.

“I… want to sit here,” he mumbles. I frown, watching as Daehyun drops himself onto a chair by the dining table. He stares at me from there, head lolling to the side tiredly.

“You don’t want to sleep?”

Daehyun shakes his head. I decide to leave him be, going about cooking the porridge. As I stir the boiling rice, I glance back in surprise to find Daehyun still watching me. I thought he’d fallen asleep from how quiet he was. I walk over, bending lower to level our faces. “Are you alright?” I ask softly. Daehyun takes some time to process the question and he oddly begins to stretch out his hand. He nearly touches my cheek but reclines. A bit bewildered, I catch his hand, smiling mildly in question.

“Thought I was dreaming…” Daehyun mutters. I chuckle, letting go and waving. “You’re not. I’m real, Daehyun.” He’s so tired he can’t even tell whether he’s awake or asleep.

“Yeah,” Daehyun breathes, “yeah, you are.” Somehow, my hand just naturally reaches out, patting him lightly on the head as I roam back to the kitchen. After a few more minutes, I turn off the fire and pour the porridge into the vacuum container, screwing it tight.

Now that Daehyun’s dinner is settled and his room is cleaned, I can’t really do anything else. Maybe I should go home; I don’t want to lounge around Daehyun’s place doing nothing.

But… I want to stay. I scratch the back of my neck, looking around hard for anything to do. “Well, that’ll be your dinner,” I start, my search futile. I really shouldn’t be intruding; this is Daehyun’s house, not mine.

“I guess I should go,” I mumble, reaching for my backpack. Daehyun snaps his head up, mouth falling open. He rises, groggily making his way over.

“Oh,” Daehyun murmurs. He in his lips, sniffing.

“Uh…”

I hum in response, waiting for Daehyun to continue while I pack my bag. I really wish I could stay, though. I’m worried for Daehyun.

What am I saying? He’s a young adult; he’s sick with the flu. Of course he’ll be able to handle things.

“Do you… want to watch a movie?” Daehyun coughs, phlegm evidently trapped in his throat. Hearing his offer, I can’t help but feel kind of happy to have an excuse to stay.

“Oh. Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks.” I readily put down my bag, bouncing slightly on my heels. Daehyun nods, sluggishly schlepping to the television.

“Don’t you want to go back to your room to sleep, though?” Daehyun shakes his head in reply, pulling out a row of DVDs and handing them to me. “Pick any you like.” He settles on the couch and turns on the TV. I acquiesce, pulling out an interesting, multi-coloured one. The Thieves? Hongbin recommended me to watch this last year.

I slip in the disc and plop onto the sofa beside Daehyun. The movie starts and I gradually sink back into the couch, immersed in the film. Other than the occasional slurps, coughs and sneezes, Daehyun makes no sound at all, not even laughing at the hilarious parts. After a while, I glance over to see his head resting on the back cushion, veered towards me. His eyelids are falling, Daehyun fighting to stay awake.

“Daehyun, you should go to bed,” I coax, pausing the movie. Daehyun knits his brows together, grunting in protest. “You’re tired,” I firmly state. “Go sleep. You can always watch this another time.”

Daehyun barely manages to shake his head, head laying defeated against the cushion. “I want to watch it with you,” he churns out. Guilt pricks at me as I shift forward, taking the flask from Daehyun and attempting to rise. He stops me, grasping my wrist and quickly letting go.

“Sorry. I’m fine. Stay,” Daehyun breathes.

“Daehyun…”

“I really want to finish the movie,” Daehyun insists, coughing into his fist. Seeing his adamance, I relent and murmur, “At least lie down.” The couch isn’t long enough to accommodate both Daehyun and me if he lies down. I try to stand but Daehyun interrupts, “I don’t need to. Sit on the couch.”

The way Daehyun is curled up, head angled awkwardly over the back, is definitely not comfortable. “Lie down, Daehyun. I can sit on the floor.” Before he can say anything more, I whine, “Please?”

“Okay,” Daehyun concedes, “But you should sit.”

“Both of us can’t fit,” I point out. “It’s fine, Daehyun. I’m not going to burn my off sitting on the ground. Just take the couch,” I joke. Daehyun smothers back a hoarse laugh but he still persists. “We can,” he says, despite the clear fact that Daehyun is at least five feet ten, eleven, probably.

“How?” I laugh softly. “Your head’s going to go over my lap even if you put your feet up on the arm rest. Are you going to lie like that?”

I make a move to stand, but Daehyun’s answer catches me off guard.

“...Okay.”

I turn to Daehyun, eyes large. “What?”

Daehyun meets my gaze, lashes fluttering. “You… you were joking?”

“I...” Stopping short, I glance away awkwardly. Yeah, I was. I thought he knew. He’s not really planning on lying on my lap, is he?

“Sorry,” Daehyun murmurs, shrinking back. I perk up, blurting, “No, no. I wasn’t joking. Uh, you can.” I squirm, both of us staring awkwardly at one another. Daehyun moves after a long moment and I stiffly lay back, rubbing my thumb as Daehyun slips underneath my hoisted arms. I flush as he lays his head on my lap, coiling up his legs. He shifts against my thighs and the heat unbearably rushes to my face, my eyes kept fixated anywhere else but Daehyun. He lays on his back, staring up at me, and I gesture slightly to the TV. Thankfully, he turns to lie on his side and I gingerly let out a sigh of meagre relief, picking up the remote and continuing the movie.

With Daehyun’s head in my lap, I can barely even concentrate. After not more than fifteen minutes, Daehyun drifts off into a slumber, mouth slightly parted. Feeling more at ease, I relax from my stiff posture and deviate my unfocused stare from the screen onto Daehyun. Some colour has returned to his face, some skin tearing from Daehyun’s excessively rubbed nose.

One of my arms is propped up on the armrest while the other is hung across my chest awkwardly, unable to rest it anywhere. It begins to get numb after a while and I sigh, deciding to lay it gently on Daehyun’s bicep.

I observe the slow rise and fall of his chest, his hair messed up and his nose scrunching up from time to time. He looks so peaceful like this. Daehyun really does have stellar features. Almost like a model. He’s so handsome I feel so much more uncomfortable and lacking near him. He’s the one that’s beautiful.

Cautiously, and unnervingly in such an instinctive manner, I move my hand, placing it on Daehyun’s head. Gently, I thread my fingers through his hair, more confidently doing so when Daehyun makes no movement whatsoever. Hours fly past and by then, the movie has already ended. I flicked on some drama about an hour ago, the volume so soft I can barely hear anything, but I don’t want to disturb Daehyun.

It feels nice. The bristling on my cheeks, Daehyun’s hair brushing against my fingers, his head nuzzled against my lap… It fills me up with warmth being able to take care of Daehyun like this.

The sun starts to set while Daehyun continues to sleep, darkness setting in. I don’t have the heart to wake him up for dinner, even if I’ve been watching television for over four hours. Just then, I hear Daehyun’s phone buzz on the coffee table. A name lights up on his phone. Kim Jongin.

Should I answer? I bite my lip, contemplating before picking up the call. I’ll just tell him Daehyun’s sick and can’t answer the phone right now.

“H-”

“Daehyun! Where the hell are you?” Jongin frustratedly yells over the phone. “You didn’t bail on me, right? It’s already seven! Tell me you’re at the door. Come on, man.”

“I, um,” I hesitate, Jongin stopping in his puffing.

“Wait, who’s this?” He inquires.

“Oh, I’m Youngjae, Daehyun’s friend. Daehyun’s sick, sorry.”

“What?” Jongin huffs, groaning over the phone. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he has the flu.” I turn down the volume, Jongin’s voice blaring over the phone.

“God damn it. Of all days, today. He promised he’ll come for the damn fashion exhibition! He knows how I am around Taemin’s fashion crazy, diva friends. I’m not close to any of them!”

“Oh-”

“Like man, what do you want me to do?” At this point, it’s evident Jongin is just ranting to me even though we technically don’t know each other. “It’s so awkward, argh! I have no friends; I totally look like a loser now.”

“Ah, he was supposed to go? Sorry he couldn’t make it,” I return softly. So Daehyun is interested in fashion. Jongin sighs in annoyance, muttering incoherently. “Anyway, thanks. Take care of that for me. Taemin would have been happy, though, if there were more people who showed up. Ah, whatever. Gotta go deal with that bat crazy Jonghyun dude.”

“Okay,” I chuckle, Daehyun’s head delicately. “I’ll tell him what you said. Sorry again.”

“It’s alright. Bye… Youngjae, right?”

“Yeah. Bye,” I greet, cutting the call. I place away the phone, returning to weaving my fingers through Daehyun’s hair and watching the drama playing. As an hour more fades away and my eyelids start to fall, I hear a strange metallic noise. Startled, I snap out of my trance, turning to the front door. The lock rattles.

Is it Daehyun’s parents? Before I can wake Daehyun up, the door swings open, revealing a rather young man, looking to be in his early thirties and likely not Daehyun’s father. The man halts at the door, staring at me with wide, comical eyes.

I instantly bow as low as I can with Daehyun in my lap, hurriedly trying to shake Daehyun awake.

“No!” The man yelps, coming out more as a hiss. I stop my ministrations as Daehyun grunts, groggily stirring in my lap. The man approaches with tiptoes, his finger to his lips. I slowly put down my hands, shrinking back as the man crouches by my side. His frown is evident on his face, staring down at Daehyun with raised brows and then back to me. His expression softens and he cranes his neck, indirectly asking for my identity.

“Yoo Youngjae,” I greet, quite embarrassed to be found by one of Daehyun’s relatives in such a state. He should be Daehyun’s relati