The Devil Needs His Artist (A Mingyu Fanfiction)

Even Enemies can Find Peace

She gently grips his arm, tugging him towards the car waiting for him out front. He was sluggish, gripping his head and groaning about a headache every once in a while, while she reassures him that he'd get his rest and get better soon.

Cameras flash, and Carats scream their concern about Mingyu, or try to get his attention, or ask who she is and why her hands are all over him. She sends them what she hopes are reassuring smiles, tugging him closer towards her and the car. He groans again, gripping his head and letting out a tearless sob. She winces momentarily when he stumbles further into her, their bodies smacking together as he tries to find his footing.

"I think my head's going to explode," he tells her with a soft whimper, making her eyebrows furrow in concern as she grips his waist to help steady him. The car door opens, and a guard tells her to help him in quickly. She notices how the crowd's getting more intense and restless, their yells getting louder and their movements a bit more aggressive.

"You're okay, let's just get in the car for now, Mingyu," she tells him, a wave of calm finding her thrumming body. This is what she's good at, playing the responsible role and making sure people are okay and safe. She wasn't a bodyguard, she was hopeless in that area, but she was definitely a caregiver. Mingyu nods his head weakly, his body shivering as a gust of wind hits them. It was concerning, considering the wind wasn't very cold at all.

She places her hand on the top of his head, gently helping him duck and get into the car. He lands onto it with a loud sigh before lying down completely, "It's so cool," he tells... no one in particular. He was probably just saying it for the sake of saying it. She groans when she sees his feet still peeking out of the car, and gets nervous when cameras shutter quickly, and the crowd gets louder.

Her heart beats rapidly as she grabs his feet, lifts them up and shoves them into the car. Half leaning in, she turns to Mingyu's driver and speaks loudly, in hopes that she'll communicate with them over the yelling crowds, "You'll have to help him out of the car and into bed!" Her voice is loud, and she bites her lip when she sees Mingyu lift his hands to cover his ears with a complaining groan, "I'll make sure someone gets there to take care of him as soon as I can!" She adds on, receiving an understanding nod in the mirror.

She's about to get out of the car and close the door when he jolts up and grips her wrist, "No, please stay." Mingyu says, his eyes wide like saucers. She stares back at him, her expression bewildered. She hears the guards yelling at her to hurry up, to get in the car or out of the way, and shakes her head at Mingyu.

"Now's really not the time for one of your games," she tells him, shaking her wrist out of his grip, but he latches on again and groans, tugging her forcefully and making her trip into the car. The realization that she's about to land onto him hits her too late, and she braces herself with closed eyes as her head lands on his chest, his hands coming down to grip her hips with a surprised gasp. She yelps, trying to get out of his space and off his lap, but his eyes hold determination amongst the tired and ill, and they're also kind of sparkly and she's a weak, weak woman. So she stills, letting him grip her hips and stare up at her. She stares back, albeit with way less confidence than he has.

"Please," he begs her, his lips pursing, "I don't want to be alone back at mine and Wonwoo's house. Please come with me. I don't feel good." She stares down at him for seconds– that feel way too long– before caving in with a groan, scooting off his lap and further into the car so that the guards outside can close the door. Mingyu sighs in relief, his body sagging into the seat as it unwillingly shakes. His shirt is soaked through from sweat, and now it was gross. Concerning, but gross.

"You owe me, douchebag," she mutters, moving to put Mingyu's head in a better position, "Stop lying like that, you'll hurt something." He complains at her words, but moves it willingly anyways. She spots the irritated skin on his neck as he does, how pale he looks to be growing, and realizes just how bad the fever is. It wasn't a small one, but a full-blown fever that was weakening his body every hour he ignored it. She would be having more than a few words with his managers and members once she got him stable and comfortable in bed.