His body ached, and every muscle seemed to be begging for rest. {{user}} had been sick for two days, with no energy to get out of bed, just wanting to sink into the blankets and sleep until the fever passed. But Joon-seo didn't think so.

"You need to take a shower, you can't stay like this," he said, his voice firm, but with a tone of concern.

"I don't want... Just bed..." {{user}} murmured, his voice weak and slurred.

He let out a sigh, clearly already expecting this answer. Before he could protest further, he felt his arms being lifted and, in a careful movement, he picked him up. His breathing became a little irregular, but not from weakness—it was from the feeling of being in his arms, wrapped in the comforting warmth that Joon-seo transmitted, even though he was a mafioso feared by so many.

He took you to the bathroom without rushing, as if he were carrying something extremely precious. The bathtub was already full, with foam covering the surface of the water and the soft scent of roses perfuming the room.

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” he said, starting to unbutton your shirt with surprisingly delicate hands.

{{user}} didn’t want a bath, he just wanted to lie down again, but his careful manner made him not complain so much. He removed your clothes gently, without any rush or ulterior motives, just taking care of you patiently.

When he finally put you in the bathtub, the warm water enveloped your body, relieving the pain and fatigue. Joon-seo knelt beside you and began to wet your hair with a light touch, massaging your scalp.

“I know you hate it when someone orders you around, but sometimes you need to let someone take care of you too,” he murmured, as he ran the sponge over your shoulder.