-Hey, I told you to open that door. – Jeno says, finally calling you after sending tons of messages. You chuckle, rolling your eyes.
-Are you really outside? I told you there was no need for you to come here. – You say, but your sudden cough crisis rats you out.
-Rush. Open the door. – He says and hangs up.
You sigh heavily, making a huge effort to simply get off the bed as every little piece of your body hurts. You slowly unlock the door, revealing your best friend behind it with two full plastic bags in hand, staring at your face.
-Woah. You look terrible. – He says, and you groan, letting go of the door and walking back to the living room.
-See? That's why I didn't want you to come. I'm sick and ugly. – You say sighing, and Jeno grins, finding that funny. In reality, even with a sick face you would never look ugly to him, but he couldn't ever convince you of that.
You cross your arms, watching him taking off his shoes and leaving it next to the door. He goes straight to the kitchen, opening the cabinets. His intimacy with your house doesn't surprise you. He has been here thousand times, and now it's practically his own house.
-What's inside the bags? – You ask, leaning on the kitchen's wall.
-Medicines and some stuff to make a soup. – He says, not looking at you, putting a pan on the stove.
-You didn't need to spend money with that. I'm not that bad. – You say, and he pauses, now looking at you.
He takes some steps closer and puts a hand on the back of your head, touching his forehead on yours. Your eyes slightly widen as you gulp, feeling your heart beating faster.
-You got a fever. – He says, pulling away. – Do you have medicine for fever? – He asks, and you slowly shake your head. – See? I knew you wouldn't have it. – He chuckles, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes a water bottle, filling up a cup, and taking one of the little boxes with tablets inside the bags. – Here. Take it and go to the living room. I'm arriving with the soup as soon as possible. This way you will feel better. – He says, and you just nod, taking the medicine.
You swallow it, quickly going to the couch just like Jeno said. At this point you've already admitted that he knows how to take care of you better than yourself. He has proven it many times before. Even if you didn't want to lean on him that much, unconsciously you trust him blindly. As much as you try to help him the same way, it always feels like he does much more.
Not so long later, you hear his steps from the kitchen.
-Y/n? You okay? – He asks, coming with a bowl in his hands, placing it on the table in front of you.
-Yeah... - You say weakly.
-You're sweating. It must be the medicine you took earlier. Wait. I'm gonna grab a towel. – He says, and you nod, looking at the soup in front of you. – Wait for the soup to cool down or you will burn yourself! - He shouts from inside, probably in your room.
He comes back with a wet towel in hands. He takes the strands of hair behind your ears, touching your forehead with the it.
-I can do it. – You say, stopping him with your hand, but he holds it back.
-Shh. Quiet. – He says, and you sigh. Having him wiping your sweat off makes you blush in embarrassment. Anyone would maybe feel grossed by doing something like that, but Jeno's expression remains the same as usual.
-I'm feeling cold. – You say, feeling your body shivering by the wet fabric in contact with your skin.
-I know, but if we don't get your temperature down, you won't get better. – He says, passing the towel in your cheeks and neck. – I think the soup is good now. – He leaves the towel on the table, grabbing the spoon and taking the soup to your mouth.
Protesting is useless and a waste of energy, which now you got none. And to be honest, it's not like you didn't want him to take care of you. It's right that you didn't want him to see you that way, but you can't deny that having him by your side in a moment of weakness is the best thing you wished for.
After taking the soup and taking a shower, you come back to the living room feeling way better than before, even if your body still feels like hit by a truck. You sit on the couch hearing some noises from the kitchen, probably because Jeno is doing the dishes. You two have been having this dynamic for a long time now, and sometimes you wonder if that's really normal. Sometimes you wonder if he has ever thought about being something... different of friends, and if it would work out.
-I think your energy is over by now. – He jokes, waking you up from your thoughts. – You were staring at the wall. Are you okay? – He asks, sitting beside you and cupping your cheek to feel your temperature. Your eyes stare at his eyes, this time not pretending you are not looking, like you usually do. Maybe being sick is making you out of your mind. – Your fever is lowering. Now you have to rest. – He says, and you nod with your eyes almost closing, laying down with your head on his lap. He chuckles, raising up his hands jokingly. – I didn't mean to rest on me though. – He grins, looking down at you, and at the same time, not pushing you away.
You feel his hands slowly being placed on your head, starting to caress your hair. You breathe in deeply, enjoying the touch with your eyes closed, but they open after some seconds as your mind starts to wander.
-Thank you for taking care of me. – You mumble, and he smiles.
-Not the first time and not the last. – He says, making you smile too.
His fingers keep playing with your hair, slowly stroking it and making you even more drunk in sleepiness. He could do that for hours without getting tired.
-Sometimes I wish you were not my best friend. – You say in a low tone, not daring to open your eyes to look at him. You feel his hand stopping for a second before starting caressing you again.
-What would you like me to be? – He asks, and you remain silent. You don't even know what you are saying. You always agreed on taking this secret to the grave with you. – More than friends? – His low voice saying something like that could easily make your heart fly out of your chest. Your eyes shut tighter and his lips curve in a smile. – Isn't this being more than friends already? – You open your eyes, still heavy with tiredness, looking at his lovely gaze above you.
His hand caress your cheek with a beautiful smile, seeing your eyes slowly closing again. His touch and his smell don't fail on making you feeling secure. It's always like this when he is close. Your hand flies to his, thanking him again for everything, holding it with a light grip, just for him to intertwine them.
-Will you stay? – You mumble unconsciously, worried that he could leave any time soon. You want him to stay, and never go away.
-Yes. I will be here. Just sleep. – He says, caressing your hand with his thumb. You take a deep breath snuggling closer to him.
-Promise? – You whisper, and he chuckles. He never thought that you could be so cute when sick.
-Promise. – He says, and finally feels your grip loosening. – Good night, my love...
