42

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions the whole journey home. First, it's fear of the aggression and hostility Jaewook displayed—that possessiveness that he himself should know better than to show. Then I'm just plain fed up. My jaw ends up a bit sore from my teeth grinding and my knuckles are stark white from holding my fists so tightly. Jaewook is off in his own world, also fuming but for completely idiotic reasons. I told him I don't see Hansoo in that way, we just had such a great heart-to-heart a week ago, and now this? It offends me in a way to see him get so upset over this. Does he not trust me? It's not until we get inside the building that he hesitates in front of his door. I'm ready to give him my grief and scold him for his behaviour when his face changes into an expression I wasn't expecting. "Noona, I'm sorry." I'm surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. He walks back over to me and hugs me. When I feel his back quiver, I quickly open my door and take him inside. Just like that, my anger is blown away. "Don't cry, why are you crying?" I ask as I hold his face. "I was like him, I was aggressive." "No, you're not like him." "I was scared of being like him when drunk but turns out I don't even need alcohol to turn into a monster." "Jaewook, don't say that, you know it isn't true. You were just upset." It's funny how you may think one thing but say the complete opposite after just one word from someone you care about. He should be scolded, but it seems he's already done that to himself. "I scared you, both of you," he whimpers. I grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom. "Take a shower, you're still all sweaty. Shower and collect your thoughts. It'll make you feel better." He looks at me with sad eyes before I close the door. I can't stop my body from slumping down against it. I hold my head in my hands as I try to understand all that just happened. I'm still angry, but also worried, and the worry seems to dominate my anger. That worry just grows when the door opens to a pale-faced Jaewook. I almost forgot that he's sick and hungover. Despite this, he put so much energy into getting angry at Hansoo. "Jaewook," I grab his arm and lead him to my room. Once he's seated on my bed I feel his forehead again. The fever seems to not have returned, but his lips are dry once again. Still dehydrated. He doesn't speak as I get him to drink a water bottle. His shoulders are slumped, his hair still wet. I do my best to dry it with the towel that was around his neck. "I—I'm so tired," he says breathlessly. "Can you eat something?" He shakes his head. "I don't feel like eating." His appetite has been hit. Not a good sign since it'll make it harder for him to fight whatever this is. "Okay then just go to sleep. Sleeping right now is what's best. Your body needs all the energy it can get to fight this off." "Can I stay here?" My mind says no, you don't want to get sick too, but looking into his heavy-lidded, burnt-out eyes makes my heart beat hard in motherly instinct. "Of course, just lie down." I'm already lifting the sheets and helping him get under before I can process what I'm doing. His eyes are closed, lips slightly parted as he curls into himself. I take his phone which was left on the bed and type an excuse to his mother to explain his absence. Then I too feel like crashing, but I force myself to also take a shower and get out of these clothes I've been in for too long. Once I'm clean and dressed in fresh clothes, a new focus comes to mind, controlling my thoughts until I can't think of anything else. I text Hansoo. D: Can we meet sometime in the next few days? It's read right away, but his reply takes a while. PHS: Sure. I need to try and make him feel better and the only way to do that is to find someone new for him to crush on, or at least a distraction to lighten up the air between us. The only problem is, I have no idea what to do. With a sigh, I put my phone down and quietly study at my small desk. The soft noises of Jaewook breathing comfort me as I work. He stays asleep for most of the day, and I study for the same amount of time. . . . When Zen comes home with a bang, I hurriedly leave my room and whisper-yell at him to tone it down. He was annoyed, rolling his eyes at me, but still complied. I try shaking Jaewook awake before it gets any later, since he needs to eat something, but waking him up proves to be more difficult than I thought. I shake his whole body, begging for him to open his eyes. "Jaewook, come on," I groan as I hold his face. His lips remain parted in sleeping bliss, eyelids still fluttering in REM sleep. I lean forward and whisper in his ear, hoping the close proximity of my voice will slowly bring him to consciousness. An airy, "Noona," leaves his mouth from my whispers, but he's still inevitably asleep. Giving up, I just settle on making dinner first. Soup made with chicken stock is what I decide on, full of vegetables and some protein to keep his strength. Hopefully, the soup will be appetizing to him at least. Now with food in hand, I bring it back to my room and place it beneath his nose. I waft it, enjoying the smell myself as I hope this will be the trick to waking him up gently. I could just jump on him, but he's sick, and startling him could be dangerous. Sure enough, the tip of his nose slightly twitches a bit. Then again, and again. Now he takes a deep whiff, his lips coming together. "Wookie, time to wake up and eat." I hear him groan as his body slowly moves. Finally. Once his eyes are open, I help him sit up and hand him the bowl of soup and a spoon. "You can sleep again right after, but you need to eat something." He nods his head in understanding. "Thank you." He pauses before eating, staring down at the bedsheets. "I'm sorry again. You should have just kicked me to the curb, but you're taking care of me. I don't deserve it." "Please don't say that. Admittedly, I really didn't like your behaviour, but you've apologized enough to me. I believe your sincerity, stop feeling bad about it. You can apologize to Hansoo too once you feel better." "I'm still upset though, that he likes you. I don't know why, it just makes my skin itch." "It's called being a testosterone-filled male," I roll my eyes. "Just please believe and trust me over that instinct, okay?" He nods. "Besides, you shouldn't be so angry at him when your drunk butt asked for a threesome last night." Soup falls down his chin as his eyes round. "What?!" "Yeah. You were such a horny drunkard that you even considered a threesome, you nasty little—" "Never! You're mine! Only I get to touch you." Oh great, here we go again. He's sat up straighter, the spark in his eyes alive once more as his eyebrows cross in anger. "Calm down Bruce Banner, I'd never let that happen anyway." "Don't let me get drunk ever again then, or handcuff me or something if I am." "No way, your drunk self is kinky as hell, you would take too much pleasure in that." "Really?" His eyes widen even more in surprise. "Yeah, don't worry about it though. Even when drunk and misbehaving you always end listening to me in the end." I pat the top of his head and a silly little smile forms on his lips. "This soup is really good." "I'm a terrible cook, you must really be sick." He shrugs his shoulders and laughs. After his soup is done, he goes back to sleep. I contemplate sleeping on the couch but decide against it. I've already been around him enough that if I'm going to get sick, it's already too late. So I lay beside him, content with just looking at his peaceful, sleeping face before I myself fall as well.