The road stretched out in front of you. It was smooth and grey; there was a slight shine reflecting off from it that suggested to you that it could be some kind of aluminium. The plains on each side of the road also seemed endless and empty. They were a dull green, and shone with the same shimmering shine as the road. It reminded you of a hospital: the flatness and sterility was uninviting and unwanted.

You shivered and rubbed at the skin inside of your wrists. A cough wrecked through your body.

"Hey," someone patted your back and helped you rid the last of the phlegm from your lungs. "You shouldn't just stand here. Come on," and he slipped his hand into yours, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

You looked up and traced his familiar outline. He was taller than you; you would have to stand on the tip of your toes to pat at his light brown hair. He wore a simple white collared shirt, over a pair of black jeans. His shoes were big and puffy, and they added a slight skip in his step.

He looked back at you with a wide smile. His thick lips were pulled back but he did not show any of his teeth. His cheeks were pushed up with his smile and his thin brown eyes were warm and caring.

"Jinki," you breathed.

"Yes?" he answered.

"What are you doing here?"

Confusion passed through his features. He then gave a shrug and pulled you along. "We have to get out of here," he repeated.

You shivered again and goose bumps travelled along your skin. It was then that you realised that you were wearing a sleeveless dress and the air was cold. Contrarily, a heat raged in your gut and slowly extended to your arms and legs. Your skin was on fire.

Jinki stopped moving and gathered you into his arms. He rubbed at your bare arms. "You need to keep warm," he admonished. "You also can't stay in bed. Get out and enjoy the sunlight and fresh air."

"But I am not in bed," you protested. You were out - somewhere - with him. He looked back at you with slight exasperation.

"Don't hide away and go outside, okay?"

"But I am not in bed!"

Your mobile phone's ringtone cut through your consciousness and you blearily opened your eyes. Golden sunlight lit your bedroom and showed a bit of the mess that had become your day-to-day life. Empty cups and bottles were scattered across your desk, amongst the textbooks and printed papers. Your computer had been left on again. There was a blinking cursor on the unfinished essay that was due yesterday. There was also a blinking popup in your taskbar; someone was trying to contact you on Skype.

There was no birdsong to greet your awakening. It was late in the afternoon, judging by the time on your clock. You had slept in. Again.

Your phone beeped to notify you of the missed call message.

You just couldn't be bothered.

You rolled back into your blankets, your back turned to your phone and computer.

Not today, you apologised; you didn't feel so good.

And you fell back to sleep.

A gentle hand lightly touched your forehead. It brushed aside the sticky hair that had clung to your skin from the sweat of your fever. You stirred at the cool touch, glad for the human contact, glad for the gesture that someone cared.

"Shh-" he softly hushed, "Why hadn't you listened to me?"

Jinki's familiar voice prompted you to open our eyes, but the light brightly speared into your head and you shut them quick fast again. You heard him lean forward, the bed dipped down a little, and he pressed his forehead against yours - a kiss.

"You were a dream," you said, not daring to open your eyes again.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't worried," he answered.

Your sight was black but not dark, not after the glaring attack of the natural sunlight. White dots, framed with yellows and reds, danced behind your closed eyelids. They converged in the centre, approximately where you sensed him to be sitting, next to your bed. You carefully reached out a hand towards his direction and it bumped onto something soft and warm. He took your hand with both of his own.

He had a pulse.

"You're a dream," you insisted.

"And I am still worried. I don't like this fever."

"Please stay," you begged, wishing that Jinki really did have some mystical power to transport himself to your sickbed. "I will get better if you stay."

He shifted and caressed your cheek. "I will be here and I will hold your hand," he promised.

The shared silence was calming. It wasn't long that you had begun to hear songs and cheering in the deep quiet. It seemed to be coming from his direction, like a background noise that surrounded him.

"I can hear music," you whispered, careful not to disturb it away.

"I think you're dreaming that bit," he said with amusement in his voice.

"Can't you hear it too?"

"I always hear music."

"Of course, said the singer," you joked.

"Hmm... I think you should open your eyes. You shouldn't strain yourself like this." He pressed a hand to your crinkled forehead.

A flash of ice stabbed into your heart and sunk down to your gut. You had been forcing yourself to keep your eyes shut, keeping yourself within the dream. Him being here, in your room, had to be a dream! Reason demanded it to be so. And opening your eyes will signal the end of the dream.

"I don't want to open my eyes. I am afraid."

"Ah, sweetheart, you have to eventually. You have to get better and see this beautiful world. Don't miss out on it."

"But you will disappear." The fear felt heavy in your chest and your throat closed up with the doubt. You knew you stopped breathing, but he would be worth it.

"No, no, no," Jinki admonished; "Breathe!"

You shook your head and argued back; "You will be gone!"

"Is your love so weak?" he asked wryly and he moved away.

"No!" You vehemently denied his accusation; but you kept your eyes firmly shut to remain within the dream-state. The air between you and him began to feel cold and empty. Please come back, you silently begged.

He was unconvinced. "See the world, see yourself, see me and my group members; get better and live beautifully and colourfully, because I ask it of you. Get better," he asked in the gentle and persuading voice.

You swallowed the protests that you childishly wanted to give him. He wanted you to get better; he had even come to your dreams last night, to look after you. How could you be so ungrateful? Never! He wanted you to see the beautiful world, and you silently agreed it was beautiful because he was part of the world too.

"I get out of bed, every day, for you," he whispered. "Thank you for being in my life."

Unbidden tears seeped through your lashes. It sounded like he was saying goodbye. The realisation cut deep: farewells were so sad.

"Why do you look after me like this?" you tearfully asked.

"Because you look after me."

"You don't know me."

"Don't be silly, yes I do."

You opted for a stubborn silence to communicate your disbelief in his words. From your frown and to your thinly pressed lips, your face spoke of your tantrum. His laughter at the sight was like the gentle wind chimes in an evening breeze; it spoke of love and peace.

"Why are you so stubborn?" he asked and tapped your nose.

You sighed.

"I want to live like you asked me to," you admitted to him with a soft tremor in your voice. In return, he took your hand into his and gave a soft squeeze of gratitude.

"Even when it can be so hard?" he asked.

Yes, was your unspoken answer.

Ever so slowly, you opened your eyes.

He was there. He was solid and real to the touch. He was leaning forward a little, his elbow on his knee and his hand in yours. The sunlight gave him a soft halo and there was a light pinkness in his cheeks. His eyes were like moon crescents, because he was smiling with genuine happiness.

And then he was gone.

Your heart broke and healed within the same instance. You curled yourself into a foetal position, knees to your chest and chin tucked in between. And then with a shuffle and kick of your feet, you propelled yourself out from your blankets and onto your hard, tiled floor.

You gingerly touched the chair next to your bed, looking for some of his residual heat. It was faintly warm. "Thank you," you said in farewell, brushing away your tears.

Jinki's reply warmly hugged you and it was as if he was still there, to whisper in your ear and to give another forehead kiss.

'Thank you.'