Dope [BTS x Manager!reader]

4 O'Clock

"When I think about the Lord--"

Suga's rapping venebrated across the living room, signifying the emptiness of the dorm.

You see, everyone has left for their practice except team Trouble and yourself.

And you know what this means.

Two maknaes and a cup of Suga.

They got their names not just for nothin'.

Groaning at the thought of having those Troublemakers, you strode past their dorm until--

"Oh happy day~"

The signature boxed smile boy sang silently in the corner of his bunk bed, as you halted your steps to hear his deep baritone voice.

Until he hacked.

He's croaky..

"V?"

The signature boxed smile boy twisted his head to face you, grinning confidentally.

"Ah! Manajieo! Annyeonghaseyo!"

He's sick.

Immediately your hues soften at his cheery attitude despite concealing his inner facade.

Exhaustion.

"Have you had enough rest?" Seated next to him, he gulped at your sudden concerned query, which led him to provide you with his signature smile.

"Rest? Good--" V wheezed, shutting his mouth with both of his hands, resulting in you rubbing his back, to prevent him going through a hawking process.

"You're not lying anyone here, V."

Standing up, you were about to fetch him a beverage to sooth his vocals, only to have your wrist restricted by Tae Hyung's large warm fingers.

"You won't tell the others, will you?"

Your eyes fell on his aegyo once more--

WHAT THE HECK, NOT AGAI--

"I'm not falling for your aegyo."

WHO AM I LYING NOW..!

"Ah..." His bottom lip protruded, pouting at the thought of not being able to be part of the concert with Jungkook and Suga if they find out he's unwell.

Gently releasing him, you walked out of the room, only to return back in five minutes. Placing the glass filled with warm apple cider honey lemon on his fallen cheeks, it perked him to bring his head up to face you with wide eyes.

"Drink up, if you want to be a part of your three musketeers."

Gripping the warm beverage with both hands, his eyes lay downcast at the drink swirling, with his crestfallen features reflected on the drink.

"It is not my place to tell them you're sick."

He whipped his head up back to meet your hues at eye level, when you crouched in front of him.

Like a child being comforted by a mother.

"It's your responsibility to decide, but.." your E/C optics maintained its contact with V's, "It's my responsibility to care for you boys.." His eyes averted yours for a split second, as his lips starting mumbling under his breath.

"Was that a thank you for the drink, V?"

Cupping your ear close to him, as an expectation for V to thank you, he confided the unexpected.