Wildest Dream
Description
When love comes so unexpected, would you learn to accept it or would you just throw it away?
Foreword
Approximately thirty minutes twenty seven seconds later, someone’s knocking on my bedroom door. That’d be Brett or Sooyoung. I rise from the bed, feeling suddenly ready for pissing contest, before snatching batik sarong from the end of my bed and wrapping it around the waist down. I’ll show anyone that I can’t be easily bothered by silly jokes and insults. Walking to the door, I turn the knob and pull open, ready to give a stink eye to either Sooyoung or Brett on the other side of the door.
“What d – ” My snarl dies in my throat when my eyes meet the last person on earth I want to see ever again.
Yunho stands in front of my room, arms crossed over his wide chest and staring at me intensely. He has shed his leather jacket, leaving only his Henley which shapes his torso beautifully for my eyes to drool. Two out of the three buttons are undone.Hot damn! He is dressed like a model whereas I barely pass the fashion style of elementary student.
“They left.”
His low, superbly y voice snaps me back to present. I clutch the door closer to my side just in case he wants to barge in inside my room with his indecent thought. “So?”
“I’m sick. Can’t perform tonight. They left me here.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t look sick to me.”
“My head’s spinning.”
He said this with a very flat look on his face which is hard for me to decide whether or not he is saying the truth. “I still don’t believe you.”
“I also feel cold and the couch is uncomfortable.”
Exasperated, I snap at him. “What do you want then?”
“Your bed, a warm blanket, and probably some medicine.”
“That’s a lot of things to ask.” My double bed is wide enough for us to sleep without touching each other. Yeah, but he must be sleeping on the very edge. Hold on a sec, why do I even consider this? No one would blame me if I didn’t give my bed to him. My decision changes when he suddenly grabs my hand and presses it to his forehead. Good lord!His skin burns my palm like a hot grill.
“You believe me now?”
He was crossing his arms not to appear cool and intimidating. He was feverish.
“Take off your boots.”
“Thank god.”
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