Chapter 16:

The sun streaked through the useless shades, shedding light upon the mass of tangled limbs that consumed my bed and drowsy faces that couldn’t quite handle the illumination.

I stole a horizontal glance with a tilt of my head, feeling warmth by my right side. Jongin’s features were relaxed, no traces of possible nightmares dared to etch themselves into his tan skin, a bronze story book, sketched with content.

It was sad that I failed to realize how close our faces were and in contrast, was only focused on how perfect he appeared at this proximity.

It wasn’t like his skin was immensely clear because he hadn’t taken a shower recently due to his direct visit. However, his straight hair was plied sideways and upside down, feathered into pieces that stuck out endearingly.

And still, I noticed the very slight crease that enveloped his eyelids and the slight curve of his lips, almost as if his signature smirk was a permanent implant, forever amused. I took note of the shape of his nose, how it appeared to be upturned but then rounded down, creating the most unique figure, further assisting his profile in seeming absolutely perfect.

I was less focused on the comfortable way his calf was laid over mine, either careless or possessive, and more centered on the beauty of Kim Jongin.

In fact, I was too focused on him that I didn’t even realize how clogged my sinuses were or how crappy that I actually felt.

And then of course, I remembered the kiss. Just the utter thought of it, sent tingling sensations down to my toes, shivers that travelled up and down my body, through my spine, like a current. They were the kind that made you want to squirm in anticipation and recollection.

“Kyungsoo.”

Jongin’s voice was hoarse and scratched from the length of sleep that was bestowed upon him. Nonetheless, he surprised me and I made a sudden yelp of response.

“Please stop staring at me for so long.”

I was entirely aware of the fact that his eyes were closed and he knew that I was watching him. I didn’t know if he was creepier or if I was.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I was just so happy that you actually slept last night.”

I tried to recall what happened and only remembered that Jongin talked to me until I fell asleep in bed with him. I may or may not have broken down again in a fit of sobs and self-sadness.

Finally, Jongin’s tired eyes groggily opened, watching me as they spread apart.

“You’re pale,” was the first thing he said.

He reached out and touched my forehead, carefully placing his hand on it and feeling.

“I think you might be getting sick,” he continued.

I was less worried about getting sick.

Now another concern plagued my mind.

Were we going to have to discuss the kiss? Because if I recalled correctly, we didn’t talk about it last night. We were going to have to talk about it, right?

I mean, isn’t that what people typically do if they’re kissed?

“Yeah, maybe,” I answered, surprised by how croaky my voice sounded. Obviously no singing practice for me. Inwardly, I laughed at the thought of telling Jongin I based a song off of him.

“I can make you food,” Jongin offered, stretching upwards.

I also adjusted my position so we weren’t quite on top of each other as much.

“I thought we already went over this,” I remarked. “You’re going to freaking burn my kitchen down.”

“No, I won’t,” Jongin calmly argued. “You don’t feel good so let me ing do it because I’m never going to offer to do this again.”

“Fine,” I mocked him. “If you can get up.”

Surprisingly, making me food was enough motivation for Jongin to get up within a few seconds.

I almost chuckled, watching him sleepily shuffle into my kitchen, dressed in baggy sweats and a bright red t-shirt. I also sported relatively lazy clothes. The thought of me not minding waking up like this for the rest of my life consumed my mind and I had to shake my head to shoo it from my brain.

“Alright cooking genius, what are you gonna make?” I called to him as he opened the fridge and then the freezer.

A small smile overwhelmed Jongin’s lips contagiously as his hands dashed into my freezer and snatched a bag from it.

“Tator tots,” he responded.

“Jongin!” I whined. “We can’t have that for breakfast!”

That was answered with a chuckle.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin replied. “It’s almost noon.”

I blinked, suddenly taken by mixed emotions.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol were probably worried. Jongin and I were skipping school. I was already sick. I had a load of homework to do that was at school. . Dammit.

Instead, I replied, “Oh.”

Jongin managed to keep the kitchen and apartment in one piece. He eventually reappeared from the kitchen, holding a plateful of Tator tots with ketchup dashed on the side.

“I think you made a lot,” I commented, observing the mountain that was piled high.

“No I didn’t,” Jongin remarked. “If you don’t eat enough, I will.”

“Good point,” I returned. “You eat everything.”

Jongin rolled his eyes at me.

“Hang on,” I told him, getting up and realizing my muscles were achingly sore. Gee. All of that crying really does things to your body.

It almost reminded me of that year where I thought it would be a good idea to join track. Yeah. That worked out really well.

“You’re about to judge me right now,” I informed him, bending below my TV, searching. “But I’m not going to allow you.”

From underneath it, I pulled out a DVD and pushed it into the player.

“What are you-“

“Yah! It’s Pororo! Waaah!”

The intro of Pororo cut Jongin off mid-sentence.

I settled back down onto the bed next to him and quickly snatched a tot and shoved it into my mouth in an attempt to make the situation less awkward.

However, it did nothing to steer his extreme, judgmental stare from me.

“What?” I finally shot back, frustrated.

“We’re watching Pororo,” Jongin deadpanned.

“It’s how I relax, okay? It helps me relieve stress,” I explained. “I’m serious.”

Jongin didn’t protest me any further; however, I knew he was secretly judging me hardcore. Still, I knew it wouldn’t affect his feelings for me, whatever they were. It was just going to be added to his long list of Things that I Can Tease Kyungsoo About.

It turned out Jongin didn’t really mind Pororo anyway. He was constantly mimicking Krong, in ways that I would never understand. He must’ve been convinced that his imitation was absolutely perfect.

Most of my concern though was the kindness that Jongin was portraying. I mean, of course we were bickering. That was just what we did. But he was gentle. He didn’t say anything to purposely hurt me. He sat and watched it with me because he knew that I wanted to. He held back eating Tator tots in order to save me some (though I ended up shoving most into his mouth).

This might’ve been the first time that I noticed that Jongin was one of the most genuine human beings that I knew and this wasn’t the first time he showed it either, though. He seemed to be a bit like this even when he was the epitome of antisocial.

I also realized that I didn’t need Pororo to wash my worries away, as long as Jongin was with me.

“Hey,” I finally mumbled. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Jongin asked, eating one of the last tots.

“For helping me yesterday and … and today.”

“Kyungsoo…” he trailed off, watching me intently.

“You really didn’t have to and I don’t know why you believe me but…thanks…I really…I mean it means a lot and you’ve been really nice to me. And I don’t know how to deal…”

Jongin stared at me with that typical blank expression. However, his words caused me to melt.

“But you needed it.”

I hid my face in my knees, pressing into the comforting material of my sweatpants.

“Thanks,” I repeated with muffled sound.

“Sometimes you’re just so stupid and oblivious,” Jongin breathed.

“What?” I questioned, catching it but not understanding.

“Just keep watching,” Jongin pointed the screen. “Krong is about to win this game and you’re not even noticing.”

Something similarly metaphorical and ironic seemed to guzzle his sentence but I couldn’t quite comprehend it.

“Okay,” I silently complied, mesmerized with his features anyway.

Sickness got the better of me though and by the afternoon I was condemned to the bed, lying down with a raging fever that wouldn’t cease to plague my body.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin murmured, watching me intently.

“Yes?” I breathily answered, hoping that sweat wasn’t actually literally dripping from my body like it felt.

“I don’t think this is good,” he said. “You should probably go see a doctor.”

The sound of that didn’t appeal to me. I couldn’t do that.

“No,” I argued, panting nearly. “I can’t go to the doctor.”

Jongin’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached forward and felt my forehead once more, wiping off a layer of sweat. He then proceeded to wipe his hand with a tissue from my night table.

“No really,” he protested. “Don’t be a ing idiot.”

I shook my head.

“My parents are in America,” I remarked. “They might have to fly over and they might not trust me and they’ll force me to live with them in another country. Now, do you want that?”

Saying all those words in one, quick sentence proved to be a challenge but I managed.

“It’s better that than you dying,” Jongin quietly responded, his eyes never leaving my sickly, pale body, which was in contrast with his flawless, coppery skin.

My stomach flitted a few times and I became even more uncomfortable between the sheets. How was I supposed to remain calm when the legendary, stoic Kim Jongin was speaking to me with melting words? Well, as melting and warm as they could get when swear words were stuck in between them.

“I can’t,” I hoarsely replied. “They’re going to ask for my parents!”

Silence engulfed the atmosphere and I was lost in his deep, dark eyes that were once again swallowing me. I felt my insides contract and my head feel even lighter. The way he bore into me unquestionably hurt but tickled more than anything as if I was being seen by someone for the first time. Only, this wasn’t the first time.

Jongin knew who I was, all along.

“Please,” he pleaded, his eyes unchanging and fixed on me with certainty. “Please, Kyungsoo. Go to the hospital.”

My entire body liquefied, my brain collapsed, my hands shook and my eyes watered.

“Okay,” I finally answered. “Just…Just don’t let my parents take me back, okay?”

Jongin bent forward and pressed his clean forehead to my sweaty one, not even minding if my greasiness and uncleanliness wiped off on him. One of his hands burrowed its way into my damp hair and he continued to look at me, not changing his stare even with the proximity.

“I promise I won’t.”

I buried my face into his neck, slowly nodding and wondering why my life was suddenly so complicated. I was getting sick. Everyone at school thought I was someone who I was not. Schoolwork literally killed me inside and out. My parents didn’t trust me.

“Thanks,” I quickly replied. “But, you should stay away,” I advised. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I don’t care,” Jongin whispered back.

I simply just shook my head in protest while he continued to hold me. I didn’t even know when we started hugging.

“I’m going to call my dad,” he said. “And if he’s perfectly sober I’m going to have him drive us to the hospital. You can’t walk outside in the cold right now.”

I nodded in defeat, secretly mad at myself for being so weak to go to the hospital. Normally, guys would tough these things out right? I tried to convince myself it was only because of Jongin’s insistence in an effort to make my feel better.

While Jongin talked on the phone with his father, I whipped mine out and called Chanyeol.

“So, how’s your date going?” Chanyeol joked, only knowing when I texted him hours ago that Jongin and I were hanging out.

“Chan,” I coarsely replied. “I’m going to the hospital.”

“Wh-what? What happened? He didn’t beat you up, did he? No, he wouldn’t do that! It’s a clone, it’s-“

“Chanyeol!” I cut him off, heaving a few difficult breaths. “That’s not it! I’m just sick, okay? I’ve got a fever and it’s kind of hard to breathe!”

“Well, are you going to be okay?” He worriedly demanded. “They’re going to have to contact your parents! And-“

“Dammit! I know! I just…I just wanted to tell you,” I crossly retorted.

“Y-You’ll be fine though, right?” Chanyeol quietly asked. “I mean…” he trailed off through the phone.

“Chan…” I slowly hummed, attempting to calm him down. “It’s a hospital. I’m not going to die. The only thing I’m worried about his my parents.”

“O-Oh. But you’ll be okay, then?” Chanyeol assumed, sighing in relief. “I’m going to call Baekhyun, then. Text me when you get to the hospital.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

Click.

“Is the giant okay?” Jongin asked, unconcerned nonetheless though.

“Yeah,” I replied. “He’s fine. He’s calling Baekhyun and I know that’ll calm him down.”

“My dad’s coming to pick us up,” Jongin informed me.

“Thanks,” I answered, glancing at the clock.

It was four-forty five pm.

Jongin stooped towards me and curled an arm around my waist, gently heaving me up. I managed to wrap my arm over his shoulder and allowed his other hand to hold my wrist.

The sudden rush of motion while we straightened, fully standing up, sent me into a dizzying frenzy in which I forced Jongin to halt for a few seconds while I regained my balance.

“Alright,” I continued. “I’m fine.”

Wobbly, I began to walk with him towards the door. From the coat rack, Jongin skillfully snatched my winter jacket and draped it over my shoulders until I slid into it.

He kept me in my place as we exited my apartment, making sure to lock the door before we left. The air outside the complex was nippy as usual for this time of year, nearly November.

Jongin felt the need to guard me from the chilliness even more. He took off his coat also and placed it over my shoulders, adding extra protection.

“Thanks,” I whispered to him, trying to conserve my voice.

His father soon arrived in a black Toyota Camry. Jongin hurried me into the backseat and surprisingly took the seat next to me, buckling me in and giving his father a gesture to drive.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo,” he said from the driver’s seat. “I can’t make you any soup to make you feel better like you did for me, but this is the best I can do.”

“Mr. Kim,” I managed to reply. “This is perfectly okay, thank you.”

Jongin’s hand was subconsciously resting on my thigh, while we drove and by now I was so used to it, I didn’t even comment nor question. It was just a natural habit.

The car ride was fairly short and Mr. Kim stopped by the entrance of the hospital, the non-emergency side and let Jongin and I out.

Jongin heaved me out from the seat.

“I’m going to go park and then I’ll come in and find you,” he announced to us.

“Don’t worry!” I immediately protested weakly. “I don’t want to burden you.”

The man gave me a small smile the caused something in my heart flicker.

“Trust me, Kyungsoo-yah, you will want an adult with you,” he said before driving off to find a desired parking space.

Jongin then proceeded to rush me into the doors of the building. It was plagued with white walls and active, weary people whom I had much respect for. Sick patients and healthy people also hastily bounded around. People affected by death, by tragedy and by the fact that their worlds were hurtling downwards directly in front of them in every conceivable way with the death of their most loved.

Impatient children seated in chairs, unaware of the outbreak and disaster among them, trapped in their own imaginative domains their parents built for them in order to protect their minds from the harshness of reality. Kids that had no idea their family figures could be slowly dying.

Standing here idly with Jongin by my side, just momentarily, caused me to feel small, miniscule, more so than I already was and incredibly insignificant. There were people here who were working past twenty four hours, family members who’d stayed overnight days on end just in order to spend as much time as possible with their desired patient.

Was time on our side?

“Come on,” Jongin tugged my sleeve.

We ended up finding someone at a desk who assisted us. She immediately took note of my pale face, sweaty features, scratchy voice and overall disheveled appearance.

“Alright, Do Kyungsoo,” she said. “We’re going to move you to a room but I’m going to need your parents or a guardian to fill out this paper work.”

She was a relatively pale woman with remarkably light coffee shaded hair and the strands were pulled into a loose ponytail. On her lips was a bright red lipstick and eye makeup covering her eyes. It appeared as if she wanted to trick people into thinking she was an optimistic, energetic woman but I knew she was exhausted just by the way she spoke.

“They’re in America,” I tautly replied.

“Who’s looking after you?” She wondered. “Surely not him? He doesn’t even look like he’s out of high school.”

She motioned towards Jongin, astonished.

“No, not him,” I answered. “His dad is here though.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “That’s fine but we’re still going to have to call your parents to come.”

I was clothed in the scratchy, uncomfortable hospital gown as I lay back in the rigid bed. Jongin was near me, sitting on an awkward stool while his dad was away signing paperwork.

“Kyungsoo!” A doctor came in with a loud booming voice.

He looked too young to be a doctor though he had slight stubble on his face, making him appear maybe slightly older but still retaining a look of youth.

“So,” he started. “First, my name is Doctor Choi.”

He shook my hand and the first thing I noticed was that he was wearing elastic gloves. He wasn’t about to touch my bare skin. Immediately, I felt my skin twitch in anticipation.

“And who is this?” He gestured towards Jongin.

“He’s my,” I stopped thinking. What was he? Friend? Best friend? Enemy? Frienemy? Boyfriend? “My friend,” I concluded lamely.

“Well,” the doctor continued. “Judging from your results, it appears that you have pneumonia.”

I felt the color that was left in my face drain and Jongin involuntarily contracted, a feeling of uneasiness taking over the both of us.

“Don’t worry,” he answered. “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. It’s lucky you came early and there hasn’t been much damage done to your lungs. We’ll give you some antibiotics and you won’t even be here for two weeks.”

Jongin visibly looked relieved and it made my insides go crazy. He hardly showed emotion, but here he was expressing is gratitude.

“It’s not even a sever case,” he reassured me. “I’ll be back. I’m going to prescribe some medicine for you.”

After he left, Jongin’s father popped through the door in the midst of a phone call.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologized. “But I’ve got to take this phone call for work. I’ll be leaving. It’s good to see you’re going to be alright, Kyungsoo.”

Jongin and I waved him goodbye and then sat in silence.

“You should get checked up too,” I told him firmly.

“Why?” He wondered, eyes remaining in contact with mine.

“Because,” I argued. “Pneumonia is contagious and you’ve been with me all day and you…”

I paused, debating whether to bring something up or not.

“I what?” Jongin challenged.

“Well,” I in a breath. “You kissed me.”

A playful smirk was brought to his lips.

“I would’ve showed symptoms by now,” he answered, highly amused. “It’s good to know you care though.”

I couldn’t keep my face a normal shade despite my sickness, especially with his hilarity towards the kiss.

He was nearly laughing.

“I-It’s not funny!” I objected. “You could be sick and-“

“And? Would it still be worth it?” Jongin questioned aloud, furthering my confusion. “Yes.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I just stayed silent, furtively fuming on the inside. That player, that attractive dongsaeng dared to steal my uality from me. I didn’t think I could be considered straight anymore.

“Not to deter ourselves from the wonderful subject,” Jongin started. “But do you have any idea who decided to start that rumor at school?”

I breathed deeply, trying to fill my lungs with air.

“There was a boy,” I explained. “Who I saw after school the day before who …insulted me. I don’t know what his problem was exactly.”

Jongin’s eyebrows were knitted together in confusion.

“What did he look like?” Jongin wondered.

“Well,” I said, trying to remember. “He had really crooked teeth.”

Jongin had something flit through his pupils, almost a realization but not quite overwhelmed with it.

“What did he say to you?” Jongin interrogated further.

I racked my brain, only remembering the nastiest of comments from him.

“He told me ‘gays are the scum of society’,” I said.

Jongin’s eyes widened, his lips nearly quivered, his fingers trembled has they held onto my wrist, mumbles of he knows escaped his lips.

“What?” I asked. “What, Jongin?”

Jongin jumped up, still holding onto me.

“Listen, Kyung, I need to go right now. I’ll explain later and please don’t do anything stupid!”

I was about to seriously hit him for not explaining but I suddenly felt his plump lips against my forehead, melting my stomach and my feelings into one molded emotion.

“Remember,” Jongin got up, moving towards the door after he my neck. “We’ll talk about this later.”

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A/N: So…I just made an extra long chapter because…200 subs! I love you guys like really. This is the reason I update even when school is just the worst thing ever invented. Anyways, plot…heating up…and damn…all these Kaisoo feels. SHOUT OUT TO ELLEN *ahem* sorry. But anyway, wanna see the inspiration for this chapter?

I know this was out a while ago but this is a DIFFERENT camera angle and I actually can't deal with these two. Why aren't they married? Like honestly.