Kyungha would never actually admit aloud that she was worried about Oh Sehun. The only people that fell under her concern radar were her family members. So, it was wise to say that she didn’t expect herself to constantly check her phone and raise suspicion.

“Kyungha, is everything okay?” Kyungsoo asks one evening while they were all gathered in the living room on one couch in front of their massive TV.

The Do/Kim household had another tradition. Fridays were movie nights. Since Jongin was an acclaimed director, he had a huge movie collection at home, most of them included special features.

She blinks at him, unsure of his question. “I’m fine. Why?”

Jungkook leans against her side, and she instinctively put her arms around him, letting him lean his entire weight on her. “Noona, you’ve been looking at your phone the whole time. You love Fast and Furious.”

Kyungsoo runs his hands through Jungkook’s strands. “Exactly.”

Jongin grins, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Let me guess, it’s Sehun.”

“What are you trying to say, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks, the edge of his voice catching a sharpness.

Kyungha freezes, quickly thinking of ways to unravel the tension in the atmosphere. “No, I’m just checking my Columbia acceptance email. I still can’t believe I got in,” she presses.

Thankfully, Kyungsoo catches the bait and relaxes. “You’re smart, Kyungha. Besides, you’ve been getting help from Sehun, right?”

“Yeah, my dexterity has been improving, and we debate about stupid things. It’s…fun,” Kyungha explains, surprised at how easy it came out. Either she’s gotten better at lying or Kyungha actually enjoys being with Sehun.

Kyungsoo hums goodheartedly, “our Kyungha finally has a friend. Isn’t that amazing?”

“More like a boyfriend,” Jongin notes.

He gets a smack by his husband. “That can’t happen. Ever.”

Kyungha’s heart sinks before she can even grasp Kyungsoo’s disapproval. It was so automatic, so guttural. She finds herself staring at her brother in unmasked dismay.

“Why not?” Jongin asks the question for her.

Kyungsoo snorts, “because Kyungha’s a child, and as much as I like Sehun, he’s too old for her.”

Jongin frowns, still not convinced. “But Hae and Baekhyun are married? With two kids? The last time I checked, they’re pretty happy.”

Her older brother sighs. “Don’t you remember how toxic their relationship was in the beginning? I’d never want that for Kyungha.”

“But you don’t know that’ll happen, Kyung. Every couple fights. Hell, we fight all the time, but we’re fine.”

Kyungsoo glares pointedly at Jongin. “Are you testing me right now? Is that what this is?”

Jongin purses his lips, and then he replies calmly, “I’m advocating for our friend, Sehun. Do you remember the guy who practically saved our relationship? When you wouldn’t speak to me, and he flew me in and mediated for us, even though he's not responsible for what happened. He’s a good guy. I’d trust him with Kyungha. And who cares what goes on between them? It’s simply Kyungha and Sehun’s business.”

“Of course, I remember! And I care. Kyungha is my little sister if you didn’t remember. Her wellbeing is my business—“

Kyungha stands up abruptly, tossing away her plush throw. “Stop arguing over me. I’m right here, you know? Thank you, Jongin and Kyungsoo. I’m glad you both care about me, but Jongin’s right. What goes on in my life is my business. It’s not to say that Sehun and I have a relationship because frankly, it’s not like that. I don’t see him like that. Kyungsoo, stop treating me like I’m a child. I may be sixteen, and you might think I don’t know the world that well, but let me remind you: I graduated from university at sixteen. I’m more well-versed than you think I am.”

She heaves a heavy breath, glancing between the two with furrowed brows. Jungkook stares at her with big, glassy eyes. “Noona, are you leaving?”

Kyungha softens her expression, ignoring her older brothers. She kneels down in front of him. “I’m just a little tired. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Then, she fixes a glare between the elders. “And you two, stop fighting. It’s not worth it.”

The two barely manage a weak sorry before she spun on her heels to march back to her room. But she falters in her steps when her family is out of sight because, for the first time, Kyungha wasn’t sure how much of what she just spouted was a lie.

Kyungha is unsure. And she’s always been sure of everything in her life. She knew she was smart. She knew she could graduate from university earlier than her peers. She knew many things, but Sehun? She didn’t know how she felt about him. She wasn’t sure that she felt nothing, but if she admitted to her feelings, it felt like a weight was pressing on her chest.

Kyungha definitely liked spending time with him, but like hell, she would ever admit that to him. She liked the way his eyes would gravitate to hers when they heard something funny. She liked the way he’d attempt to push his bangs out of the way but they’d always fall in his eyes.

She liked his hair too. Sometimes, he let her run her fingers through it. His hair was always silky smooth. She really liked his laugh. His laugh always resonated deep in his chest and the corner of his eyes would crinkle—and it’d make her diaphragm contract and she’d feel weightless; he made it hard for her to breathe more often than she’d like to admit.

He laughed and smiled with his whole body. She liked that about him. He was real. Everything about him was real to her, but she didn’t know how things were on his side. Was she just a friend—or a little sister to him? Kyungha had rather not find out.

It’s been about a week and a half since Sehun had contacted her in any form. He hasn’t texted her or attempted to call, even when she suspected that his shift had ended. Kyungha was tempted to call him to make sure he was okay—really, to make sure that he didn’t die off the side of the road or something.

But Kyungha’s never been the first person to send a text or call. She didn’t want to. It made her seem like she actually cared about him. Why would she? He was just…Oh Sehun. Still, the worry gutted her, and she couldn’t sleep.

She checks the time on her phone. A quarter to 2. In the morning. She wonders if he’d be at home.

Kyungha moves to get out of her bed, throwing on a hoodie and leggings. She prided herself as someone who followed rules. She had never, ever snuck out before. It wasn’t like the girl had friends or a reason to do so. Kyungsoo had always trusted her, and she didn’t want to break his trust, but things didn’t feel right. Not since she had gotten angry at Kyungsoo during movie night.

There was weird energy between them like Kyungsoo had more things to say, but he didn’t want to risk the fragile relationship they already had because of the fight.

The secret to sneaking out was doing it quickly. They had wooden floorboards, yes, but Kyungsoo’s room was further away in the hall, and his walls were soundproof (for better or worse).

She walks quickly and holds tightly on her keys so they wouldn’t jangle, hiking downstairs, careful not to trip. After sliding on her shoes, she slips out the front door into the dark, moist night.

The air felt still, and the night was eerily silent. She shivers even though it was warm outside.

Kyungha takes a deep breath before pulling up her Uber app. The good thing about living in cities is the drinking culture. A lot of people liked to get drunk late into the night, and that’s why Ubers ran late at night as well.

She taps her shoes on the pavement, listening to the thump. The car pulls up further down the block in a couple of minutes. She took precautions, so she wouldn’t risk waking up her family.

The ride to Sehun’s house was silent, and she was freaking out. Majorly. It was like Kyungha finally wrapped her head around her actions. What the hell was she doing, heading to his place in the middle of the night?

Too late because the car pulled up to his curb. She quickly thanks the driver, watching as he pulls off into the street.

Kyungha tries knocking the door, but no one came to the door. As a last resort, she tentatively pulls on the door handle. Surprisingly, it clicks open. Her jaw drops. He didn't lock the door? Was he a ? She prepared to lecture him, but when she stepped into his place, it was dark. The only lights he had were the ones projected through his huge windows from the streets.

She continues, but just several inches from the door, she trips over something, lurching forward until Kyungha came crashing down on the floor. Her yelp echoes quietly in the space. She runs her hand on her knees. It was too dark to tell if she scraped it. It didn't matter though. What mattered more was what she tripped over. She tried to focus on what was on the ground.

Her stomach flipped as she scrambled onto her knees in horror. Someone was lying on the ground. She guessed that she had tripped over Sehun.

Kyungha went to find the lights. Her suspicion was right. He was sprawled on the floor, hair matted with sweat. She stumbles over to him, shaking his shoulders. “Sehun? Sehun? Can you open your eyes?”

He didn’t answer. Her hands pat down his body. He felt warm and sweaty. She places the back of her hand against his neck. She winces once she realizes that he's feverish. He trembles when she presses her palm against his forehead. He was burning up, and she didn't know how long he had been like this. On the floor and alone.

She felt a pang in her chest, but she ignored it. Kyungha had more pressing matters at hand. Pulling him up, she heaved his arm over her shoulder. Kyungha’s height had helped her hoist him across the room into his bedroom without being crumpled by him. She’d never been more thankful for her long legs until now.

She drops him gently on his bed, eyebrows drawn when he groans in pain, curling in a fetal position. “How did it get this bad? Why didn't you call anyone, you idiot?” Her questions go unanswered.

His shivers grow more pronounced now. She had to find a thermometer. By now, Kyungha’s been at his place enough to know where he kept his medicines and whatnot. She rushes to his bathroom, pulling out the mirror to find the dividers lined with different types of medicines and various first-aid treatments. She scans them and her eyes set on the thermometer. She went to grab some washcloths from under his sink. She soaked several in a solution of warm water.

Hurrying back, she practically skids to him, almost dropping everything in her hands. Kyungha begins first by measuring his temperature. He was indeed over a hundred, but he hasn't crossed the threshold of a hundred and four, so she figured she didn't need to drag him to the emergency room.

“Sehun, I know you’re really out of it right now, but I need you to at least attempt to hear me out, okay?” She asks, voice tight and desperate.

His eyes flutter open weakly. She traces the cracks on his lips as he exhales a hot breath. It must’ve been painful for him. “Sweetheart—why are you…?” He trails off, his consciousness fading.

Kyungha presses on, “I need you to sit up, so I can take your clothes off. You’re overheating.”

He nods weakly. She helps him get into an upright position to strip his shirt off. He’s wearing his scrubs, so her worst suspicion was probably true. He had passed out the minute he got home from his shift. Who knew how long he was on the floor?

She manages to slip his pants away until he was only in his boxers. Kyungha was too worried about him to concern herself that he was half- in front of her. Other times, she’d be turning away, snapping at him to put his clothes on, but today, she didn’t have time for that.

His shivers got worse, probably because of the direct air on his bare skin. It probably felt like hell to him, but he’d have a better chance of cooling down now.

She grabs the wet washcloths, wringing one until it was merely damp. She spent the next fifteen minutes, wiping his sweat off of him. He had moaned and grumbled that it was cold, and he was going to throw up.

Kyungha had prepared for that too. She’d brought over his trash bin. After cooling him down, she attempted to give him a sip of water, but he threw all of it up on her.

She cleans him up patiently. Then, she tucks him in under his covers, letting him sleep for an hour or so.

His vomit wasn’t the most comfortable thing on the fabric of her clothes and skin. She hops in his shower, rinsing herself clean. Kyungha figured he wouldn’t mind if she borrowed one of his shirts. She scales through his massive closet, looking for something simple. She opts for a soft white button-down that stopped below her lower thighs. It was long enough to where she could bend over without exposing herself.

His smell danced on her skin. She’s never felt so intimate as she felt wearing one of his shirts. It was a weird feeling.

Disregarding her emotions, she comes back to check on him. He looks more comfortable with some fluid in his body. She had managed to force more liquids in him after he projected his insides all over her. Kyungha sort of found pride in that.

The girl travels to his kitchen, looking in his refrigerator. She could probably throw simple ingredients together to make soup. All she had to do was boil anyway.

When her brothers were away on their dates, Jungkook had finally entrusted her with making broth as he did other prep work. Sadly, that was about the only thing she could manage without setting off the fire alarm.

Kyungha came back with some fever-reducing pills as she left the bone broth simmering on the stovetop.

Sehun was still sleeping, so she took it to herself to shake him awake. He groans, again—Kyungha guesses this is the only sound he can make as of this moment. She doesn’t complain. At least, he opens his eyes.

“Open up,” she urges gently, thumbing his bottom lip. His mouth goes ajar, and the moment felt slightly intimate to her. She pushes the pills through his lips, then turning briefly to grab him water. After he takes a weak sip, he slumps forward, his head resting on her collarbone.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, still dazed. Her eyes grow wide at the way his fingers slightly grip her thigh—almost possessively. But it felt like only a blink before he let go, drifting back into dreamland. She almost let out a relieved sigh. Her nerves were frayed, and her thighs felt like fire coursed through them.

Kyungha brought up an arm around his shoulder. With her other free hand, she plays with his hair. Instinctively, he snuggles closer to her. Their chest press together, and she feels a million butterflies explode in her tummy.

“The things you do to me…I don’t know whether to hate you for it or be afraid.” Her honesty falls in the open, but he’s not awake to hear it. That’s the only thing she counted on. It was stupid that she could only be honest with herself when she was with him—but she was only able to admit it because he was unconscious.

Kyungha sets him back down, tucking him in. Then, she moves to check on the soup. She gives it a taste and smiles. Jungkook would be so proud of her. For once, she made something and the know-it-all nine-year-old wasn’t hovering over her every step of the way.

She ladles some into a mug and makes her way back into his bedroom. Kyungha feels bad for waking him up so many times, but he probably hasn't eaten anything in ages.

“Sehun?” She calls. He stirs. It was surprising to her because it was probably hard for him to get up. He must’ve been exhausted.

Sehun sends her a sleepy smile. It’s an off-guard smile she’s never seen him given anyone. It feels special, and Kyungha hopes she’s the only person who’s ever seen it.

“I made some broth. You need some nutrients to recover,” she tells him, holding out the mug.

He nods deliriously, holding his hand out. His fingers are shaking. Kyungha thinks not. She shakes her head, blowing in the mug. After she thinks it’s cooled enough, she presses it against his lips, tilting it back for him to drink.

Sehun finishes the entirety of it without any complaint. At least, he wasn’t a troublesome patient. She remembered when Jungkook had his fever. The boy wouldn’t stop crying and turning away food and medicine.

Kyungha checks the time and realizes it’s morning—actual, morning. She’s been awake for almost twenty hours.

The girl, shockingly, didn’t feel fatigued at all. And she felt a lot of things. Worry. Pain, Guilt. Affection. The last bit worried her, but not as much as she worried about how painful and lonely it must’ve been for him.

She watches him, his breathing became steadier which was a good sign. He was getting better. Relieved, she caresses the side of his face. Another thing she realized lately.

Sehun had annoyingly perfect bone structure. He looked like something drawn out of a fairytale with his Grecian nose, high cheekbones, and long lashes. Her eyes fall on his lips. They were pretty too. She scoffs. This wasn’t a fair playing field. He didn’t get to have a wholesome personality and a pretty face.

Growing up, Kyungha was faced with many unfair circumstances. She never got to meet her father. She never had a normal childhood. She was always looked down upon for being a girl who could out speak older men. But Sehun? From the anatomy of his body to his sparkling, warm heart. He was on another level of unfairness. But the difference was, this time, Kyungha didn’t loathe it.

When Kyungha cracks an eye open, she realizes she must’ve fallen asleep. It’s dark outside now. She checks her phone to see several alerting text messages from her brother.

She sends rapid-fire texts back, assuring that she’s fine and that she’s with Sehun. She told him that he invited her over to watch a newly taped surgery and that she had accidentally fallen asleep.

Kyungsoo doesn’t seem to catch on and figure out that she’d been lying again. Kyungha felt bad, but she didn't want to leave Sehun alone to fend for himself. He didn’t deserve it.

She stretches out, her back sore from sleeping on his bedside. Kyungha still felt relatively sleepy, so she moved to lie next to Sehun on his bed.

In response, he shifted closer to her as he has done many times when they’ve fallen asleep together. She didn’t argue and instead, she let him snuggle his nose into her neck. “Sweetheart…”

His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I…missed you.”

She didn’t answer. Sleep was pulling her tightly in the other direction. Besides, she probably didn't hear him correctly anyway. He was still delirious from his previously high temperature.

“Stupid, why did you overwork yourself to this point?” She murmurs, eyes closing.

“I…wanted…to…”

“What?”

“…see you. I wanted—you're so warm…“ He pauses to sigh in content, then continues in his usual husky timbre, "But I—I wanted to take a week off for the holidays.” His voice is impossibly quiet that she had to crane her neck to hear him. And she did hear him, really well at that. It’s the only explanation for the sudden rush of blood in her ears.

“You could’ve seen me anytime you wanted,” she chides.

“Not…not the same,” he grunts. “It’s hard for me to concentrate when I’m thinking about you. I can’t focus on work when I see you often. I thought maybe if I cut back the time, it would help.” He laughs breathlessly. “It didn’t work. I ended up working too much just so I could see you for a bit longer. I—“

Kyungha knew she’d regret not hearing his delirious ramblings, but she was exhausted and Sehun’s body felt whole and safe. She wanted to let go, and the darkness eventually surrounded her. But because she was with him, Kyungha didn’t feel as alone.