The Angel Next Door (Rosé X Female Reader)

15: Sick Angel

Word Count: 4,288

It happened on a Friday, on one of the last days of January.

"..Hmm?"

I returned to the living room after cleaning up dinner, but when I looked at Rosé, I noticed that her cheeks were unusually red.

At first, I thought that maybe the thermostat was set too high, but it was on the same temperature as always, and Rosé wasn't wearing particularly warm clothing, either.

When I looked closely, I saw that her expression seemed distant and kind of unfocused. Her breathing was also shallower than usual. All signs pointed to her being sick.

When I took a moment to think about it, the weather had gotten much colder lately, and Rosé, as an honors student, had been busy helping her professors with some big project. On top of that, she was doing her usual housework and making dinner for the two of us. It wasn't strange at all for her to fall ill with such a workload.

I admonished myself for not noticing her condition earlier. I regretted not paying more attention to her.

"Rosie, your face is red. Do you think you have a fever?"

"Of course not," she decisively dismissed my concerns. Her expression was stiff, and she shook her head, but she couldn't hide the redness in her cheeks.

Obviously, I couldn't just take her word for it, so even though I knew that it was rude to touch her without her permission, I gently placed the palm of my hand on Rosé's forehead, which was usually hidden by her bangs.

As I had expected, her head was much hotter than my palm. Rosé's typical body temperature wasn't that high compared to mine, so it was pretty clear she had a fever. "You're hot as the sun."

"..No, I'm not."

"All right, how about we take your temperature and confirm it?"

"There's no need. You're worrying over nothing." Her voice was thin and lacked her usual energy.

"Oh, come on. I can tell by looking at you that you're running a fever."

"I'm just a bit flushed."

"If that's the case, then you'll need to take your temperature and prove it."

I stood up and retrieved a thermometer from the first aid box on the shelf in the living room. I brought it back to Rosé, but she turned her face away.

She either didn't want to acknowledge her fever or she insisted on bluffing.

It was probably one or the other, but I couldn't really proceed until she agreed to have her temperature taken. I stood right in front of the uncooperative Roseanne Park and placed the thermometer firmly in her hand.

"Rosé, either I can loosen your clothes and stick the thermometer in your armpit, or you can take your own temperature... Which do you prefer?"

I put on a very serious face when I made this threat.

Rosé let out a startled groan and turned her body toward the back of the sofa. She seemed like she had resigned herself to it, and I heard the sound of the thermometer turning on, so just to be safe, I also turned my back to Rosé and waited for her to finish.

Before long, I heard another electronic beep. I waited for Rosé to put her clothes back in order. When I turned around, she was looking at me, expressionless, holding the thermometer in its case.

".. Thirty-seven point two degrees Celsius. A slight fever, all right?"

"Hmm..."

"It's only a little higher than usual, and I still feel totally fine, so..."