Teach Me How To Love [mxmxm]

II

[Jae Lim]

There was no surprise when I woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. I could feel my sweat pooling under my covers that were making me overheat while my sinuses were stuffed and runny at the same time. My eyes were watery, the closest I've gotten to crying in several years now, and my throat felt like someone was shoving a grater down my throat.

I was about to close my eyes again to try and sleep off my fever when the door slammed open revealing Jihoon. "Jae! It's time to get out of—What the fuck happened?"

The glare that I shot him from my bed didn't seem to work because he still rushed over like some mother hen.

"I knew I should've just dragged you out of that bath," he grumbled to himself, sticking out a hand to feel my burning forehead. I sighed softly at the cool temperature that contrasted harshly against my burning body. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You're running a fever all right. I bet you didn't dry yourself properly either, did you? Now look at you."

Had I not been graced with a scratchy throat that rivaled the Saharan desert, I would've given him a scathing comeback.

Jihoon rolled his eyes and turned around, making his way back to my door. "I'm going to make rice porridge and get you a towel and grab you some water and medicine. No objections."

I just closed my eyes again as my answer and heard him faintly down the staircase seeing that he left my bedroom door wide open. I saw some people walk by, looking into my room, spotting me, and then their faces turning surprised to hatred. It wouldn't be the first. I decided I didn't want to even think about their judgmental faces and closed my eyes.

There wasn't anything new about that. It seemed that no matter where I went and who I was with, I had a talent for pissing people off, making them angry. Maybe now, I turned it into my calling card. I couldn't recall the last time someone had looked at me and had been happy, not even happy, just not pissed. It was rare.

And I was just so damn tired.

I heard footsteps returning into the room, the door closing, and a cold damp towel being draped over my forehead. Jihoon must've come back. His hand pushed back my hair and stroked my head. It was strangely calming and my mind felt like a jumbled-up mess from the fever and my head was pounding from the inside.

"I'll grab you some porridge after I finish making it and have you drink some medicine after." My eyes peeked open a sliver and I titled my head over to where Jihoon had pulled up a chair and sat by the side of my bed. "Here, drink some water first. Your throat is probably fucked."

I let out a huff of air and croaked out, "You think?"

We both winced when I spoke and he pulled me up so that I was leaning up against the headboard while my blanket piled around my hips. He pulled the wet cloth off my forehead and brought a glass of water over to my lips. I tilted my head back to start drinking and tapped his thigh with a heavy hand when I wanted to stop.

I watched Jihoon wring out the towel and wet it again before slapping it over my forehead. "Want to tell me what happened yesterday?"

Had this been any other ordinary day, I would've said no and added in a "fuck you" for good measure, but today was not an ordinary day and I was feeling like shit physically and mentally. Being sick never helped with keeping the boundaries up.

"I can't explain yesterday," I grumbled.

"Well, can you tell me why you broke and dislocated Sheng's wrist?"

"It's dislocated?" I snapped my head over, making it throb in the process. No, I didn't mean to do that. I mean broken is one thing but while it's dislocated? Way to go, Jae. You couldn't even go a week before fucking up.