Night Garden [K TH 21+]

22

Yung Mi had thought the relationship with her gardener would be much smoother after their talk. She had thought wrong. "Kim Taehyung, open this door, now."

"No, I'm fine," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Then come to work." She couldn't imagine what was going on with him. He kept saying he wasn't sick.

"No. I can't. I'll be fine tomorrow." He didn't sound very convincing.

Logic wasn't winning this argument, so Yung Mi would have to fight dirty. "Please, Taehyung. I'm worried about you. I just need to see that you're ok." She added another soft, whiny "please," her secret weapon.

"You aren't going to leave, are you?"

"Not until I know you're ok." Yes! He was breaking. He was going to open the door ...

"Fine. You can see I'm alive, then you have to go." She could hear the pout in his voice.

The lock clicked and the door opened to reveal ... "Oh my god, Taehyung! You look horrible!"

His face was swollen, his right eye puffed almost shut. There were large red splotches scattered over his face. And his neck ... "Is it contagious?"

He rolled his eyes, his left eye anyway, at her drama. "It's poison ivy."

She stepped in and closed the door. "It's on your face. Did you roll in it?"

"No," he huffed. "I burned that big pile of brush in the walled garden. It carried on the smoke. I thought I had been careful to keep any poison ivy in a separate pile." He shrugged. "It'll be gone in 4 or 5 days." He scratched at his arm through his long sleeved pajama top.

"Does it itch?" Yung Mi couldn't believe he was wearing old man pajamas. She had taken him for a boxers and t-shirt kind of guy. He was so cute in his blue and white pinstripe pjs.

"Of course it itches. Have you never had poison ivy?" His one eye was scowling at her.

Yung Mi wasn't really allergic to poison ivy, so she didn't worry about it. She couldn't even reliably pick it out from other vines. "Ohmygosh, this is my fault. I just put all the weeds I pulled out on that pile."

He just glared at her, with his one eye. "Well, thanks for that. You've seen me. Now you can go."

She ignored him, furiously typing on her phone, searching online for remedies to this torturous mess she created. "I'm so sorry, Mr... Taehyung. Sorry, old habits. OK, there's lots of things we can do to make it better. Like ..."

"Nope. I'll be fine. You promised you'd leave once you saw I was alive."

"You said that. I never agreed."

"I'll be fine. I want you to leave." Taehyung knew he was being rude, but the itching was driving him insane. And he couldn't scratch his stomach in peace with his boss standing there.

"You won't let me back in if I leave, will you?"

"Yes, I will." He was totally lying.

"Please, I need to fix this. I feel terrible. You're suffering because of what I did. I need to take care of you." The domme in her couldn't stand to create such a mess and not make it right.

"What about what I need?" Taehyung needed to be left alone to scratch.

"You need someone to take care of you. Go scratch while I gather up all the supplies we need."

There she goes with "we" again. Taehyung left her at his tiny kitchen bar. He sighed with relief as he rubbed at his stomach and his thigh and his neck. And his ankle. And his underarm. And his face. The prickly pink rash was literally all over his body. He couldn't reach the spot in the middle of his back, so he finagled his pj top around.