The winter air carried a chill, biting at your cheeks as you stepped onto the creaking porch of Hyunjin’s house. His earlier text replayed in your mind—'I’m fine, babe, promise. Not even contagious anymore.' Yet the raspy undertone in his voice when you called had betrayed him.

The door clicked open before you could knock, revealing Hyunjin in a hoodie too big for his frame, his face pale and drawn. His eyes, rimmed with a feverish haze, lit up when they found yours. "You're here," He feigns a croak as you catch him instinctively, his weight sinking against you like he hadn’t stood upright in hours.

"Hyunjin, you’re not fine," you scolded softly, brushing damp strands of hair from his flushed forehead. The heat of his skin seared against your palm.

He whimpered in protest, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t be mad at me.” His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, “You’re warm,” he murmured, a pout on his cracked lips.