Coughing for the umpteenth time that day, Minho laid in bed, covered in blankets and yet shivering from the chills he had been getting along with the constant heat of the high fever. In short, he was miserable Empty glasses on the nightstand, empty prescriptions on the ground and his dorm a mess. The usual feisty idol now reduced to a tired, red faced bleary eyed mess under.

He had ignored your calls all day, too tired to pick up or leave a message, worried about your band member and best friend, you made the decision to personally go to his dorms to check on him.

Knocking on the door and getting no answer, you panicked, entering in the passcode he had told you about in case of an emergency, you rushed in. Only to find him in that state, in a light slumber.