𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃 || 𝐊.𝐍𝐉

𝟸𝟻 | 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐭. 𝟑 ☽

❖ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ⇢ ⋄ ✾ ⋄ ⇠ ⋄ ⋄ ⋄ ❖

Running through the motel door, I catch a sight I'm not all too prepared for once entering the room.

Namjoon's laying on the floor with his shirt off while heavily breathing. He's sweaty and has a painful expression etched onto his features as I draw near him.

Quickly, I shut the motel door and come next to him. "Namjoon?" I bend down quickly, noticing the way he's squinting his eyes shut as if not here in the world, and I momentarily think about when I was in the forest.

Shaking my head, I decide to grab his arm and wrap it around my neck while pulling him up to a sitting position on the floor.

I grunt softly while hoisting his weight onto my shoulders despite the obvious height and weight difference, but I still force myself to get him on his own two feet.

I'm not sure if it's a sudden fever or what's gotten into him, but he's sweating as if he recently ran a marathon.

Slowly, I move to the bed once I have him standing, only to have him glue himself to his spot without moving an inch. "Take me to the bathroom. I need cold water," he pants quietly next to my ear.

"Namjoon, I can't do that-"

"Fucking do it!"

I jump at the sudden brutal tone and carry him into the bathroom with a sour expression. He moves away from me to lean against the sink while I turn the knob on the shower to the cold side.

"Don't expect me to help you again if you're going to act like a dick," I start to storm out of the bathroom.

"Wait," his hand wraps around my wrist before I can exit the room. "I'm sorry... I... I don't know what's wrong with me," he continues to pant.

Before he can say anymore, he releases his hold on my wrist and then falls to the bathroom floor on his hands and knees. "It's happening again," he grunts through quick-paced breaths, trying to move me out of the bathroom.

"Let me help you," I have no clue what's wrong with him, but I can tell he's in pain, and not anything normal either. I've never seen someone burning up so much, especially from a fever.

He shakes his head and crawls slowly forward to the ongoing shower. Every time I near him to help, he shrugs me off, so really, all I can do is stand and watch.

When he reaches the shower, he puts all of his weight onto his palms and crawls into the lime-green tub. He lays there, letting the cold, shower water hit his body.

I watch his chest rise and fall, watch how his pain seems to fade, and watch how he keeps his eyes shut the whole time.

Searching the bathroom for towels when he gets done, I find zero. I rest against the walls, thinking of what to do when he wants to get out. It's only when he starts talking that he pulls me out of my thoughts.

"I'll be fine for now. Go to the motel office and get a few," he says softly, still keeping his eyes shut. How he knew exactly what I was doing, I'm not sure. I can only assume he could tell from me searching high and low.

"Okay, I'll be quick. If you need me, call for me," I admit while exiting the bathroom and then the motel room. I stand in the parking lot, hurriedly walking to the front office to take a few towels.