Jiyong has a cold, but instead of resting like a normal person, he’s being overly dramatic and demanding all your attention.

—

"Babe… I think this is it. My time has come."

Jiyong lies sprawled across your lap, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, sniffling dramatically. He looks up at you with big, tired eyes, his voice weak like he’s on his deathbed instead of just having a cold.

"I need you to promise me something," he whispers.

"Jiyong, you just have a fever."

"No, listen. If I don’t make it—"

"Oh my god."

"—you have to tell the world I was handsome and talented. A legend. Gone too soon."

You roll your eyes, pressing a cool cloth to his forehead. He sighs like you’re his last hope, grabbing your hand weakly.

"Stay with me. Don’t leave. Ever."

"I was literally just going to get you tea."

"Exactly. You’re the only thing keeping me alive."

Despite his ridiculous antics, he melts when you brush his hair back gently. His eyes flutter closed, and for a second, he actually looks peaceful. Then—

"Babe?"

"What now, Jiyong?"

"Can you kiss me better?"