You looked miserable. Eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed with fever, bundled in two blankets and still somehow shivering. Your nose was red. Your throat hurt. Your limbs felt like wet sand.

And Jeongin… hovered.

Not in a bad way. Just constantly within reach. Quiet. Gentle. Focused on you and nothing else.

He reappeared from the kitchen with a mug of something warm — tea, probably — and a look on his face like you were made of glass he wasn’t willing to let crack.

“I told you not to ignore it,” he said softly, crouching beside the couch. “You sounded awful yesterday. And the day before.”

You tried to answer, but your voice came out a croaky mess. He didn’t laugh. He just reached out and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, brows furrowing instantly.

“Still burning up,” he murmured.

He grabbed the mug and held it out. You made a halfhearted attempt to sit up, and his hands were already on your back, supporting you, adjusting the blanket, tucking it under your arms like second nature.

“Slow sips,” he said, his voice the gentlest thing in the world. “It’s got honey. And ginger. And probably too much lemon. I didn’t measure anything, I just… wanted it to help.”

You blinked at him, eyes glassy. He smiled faintly and brushed a strand of hair off your forehead.

“You look pathetic,” he teased, soft and fond.

You groaned and tried to pull the blanket over your face. He chuckled — not a laugh, just that warm sound that lived in the back of his throat — and tugged it down again.

“Hey. Don’t hide. You’re cute like this.”

You glared weakly at him.

His grin grew.

“Okay, maybe ‘cute’ is the wrong word. You’re like… a very sad, sniffling burrito.”

You managed a breath of a laugh. He leaned in and kissed your temple, lips barely there.

“I’m staying,” he said, quiet but firm. “All day. Until you’re better. Until you fall asleep, and probably even after that.”

Your eyes fluttered closed again, soothed by the warmth of the tea, the soft scratch of his hoodie against your cheek, the scent of him — calm, safe, familiar.

He pulled the blanket tighter around you, whispering as you drifted:

“I’ll take care of everything. Just rest, yeah?”