stars × cnblue kangminhyuk

8 : Sheltered in His Arms

My body ached, my chest heavy, but as I slowly opened my eyes, the first thought that rushed through my mind was—thank God, I'm still alive. Minhyuk's weight had crashed down on me like a falling ton of hot kettles, his body heat scorching through my clothes. He wasn't just heavy—he was unbearably warm. His head rested on my shoulder, buried in my hair, and his steady breaths tickled against my skin.

I tried pushing him off with all the strength I had, but it was useless. He was too heavy for me to move.

"Kang Minhyuk! Wake up!" I patted his shoulders desperately. My voice trembled, half in fear, half in panic. What if the towel wrapped loosely around his waist slipped? What if it fell to the floor and revealed his—oh God. I refused to even finish that thought.

His lips moved, and with a husky whisper that sent shivers racing down my spine, he mumbled, "I'm... tired."

I froze. That low voice, drenched in exhaustion yet dangerously intimate, was something my sanity could not handle right now.

No, this wasn't the time for nonsense. His temperature was blazing, and I could feel the fever radiating off his skin. He wasn't faking it—he was really sick. Mustering all my strength, I pushed at his shoulder again, finally managing to roll him onto the mattress beside me. His breathing was shallow, but steady, soft snores escaping his lips.

Panting, I stood up and tugged down the hem of my shirt nervously. That was when my eyes landed on the problem—the towel. It was barely holding on, ready to slip to his feet at any second. His v-line was already visible, taunting me mercilessly.

This was going to kill me.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I approached him carefully. With trembling hands, I adjusted the towel, knotting it tightly just above his navel. By some miracle, I managed without seeing too much. Quickly, I slid a pillow under his head, wiped his face and neck with his blue handkerchief dipped in cool water, and tucked him under a thick blanket. His body was ice-cold despite the fever. Please, sweat it out quickly, I prayed silently.

I was about to leave the room when a sudden grip tightened around my wrist.

"Noona... don't go."

My heart stopped. His hand was firm, his pull irresistible. The next second, I was pressed against his bare chest, my face buried in his heat. His arms caged me in, strong despite his fever.

"Don't go... Sora." He whispered the name like a secret, his breath hot against my hair.

Sora?

The name stabbed me unexpectedly. His hug was warm, almost comforting, but my chest tightened with something sharp and ugly. Who was Sora? Why was he calling her name in his sleep? She must have been someone precious to him... maybe even his first love. I wanted to brush it off, pretend it didn't matter, but it did. It hurt in a way I couldn't explain.

I didn't even realize when my eyes closed. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in his arms. My head jerked up immediately, and I pushed his hands off my waist. The clock read 7:45 PM. I'd been asleep for nearly three hours beside him.

Carefully, I touched his forehead. Warm, but not burning. His fever had eased. Just then, his eyelids fluttered open and he smiled at me—weak, but still a smile.

"Feeling any better?" I asked.

"Yeah," he murmured, leaning against the headboard, "thanks."

"Why did you suddenly get sick anyway?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself. His condition earlier had been too sudden, too strange.

Minhyuk grinned faintly and scratched his nape, which was covered in faint red blotches. "I'm kinda allergic to salmon, Hyojin-ah."

My stomach dropped.