BTS Imagines

RM | I'm Smart But Forgetful Pt.II

You opened your eyes, feeling stuffy and suffocated. Peeling the blanket off of yourself, you glanced down at your torso. Your clothes were sweaty and sticky, almost transparent at this point. You had been feeling cold last night, so you had slept with an extra blanket. Thinking that was the reason you were drenched that morning, you shook and head and proceeded to go to the bathroom.

Just minutes later, you were fully dressed and seated next to the kitchen counter, munching on toast. "Y/n, you don't look well. Maybe you should stay at home today." You mother seated herself next to you, her plate of breakfast in front of her. "Why, what happened?" Your father entered the kitchen buttoning his cuffs.

After assuring both of them that you were absolutely fine, you found yourself slugging down your school corridors fifteen minutes later.

As soon as you saw your boyfriend near your locker, just looking so boyfriend-y, it was like you got a serotonin boost. Your head still hurt, and so did your muscles, but your brain was determined to reach to him and finally kiss him freely. He was well now, and all through the previous week, he wouldn't let you kiss him.

He was busy checking his watch when you reached out to him and smashed your lips against his. (This is so weird to write.) After a couple of seconds, he responded.

Breaking away, he gazed into your eyes and smiled his very adorable smile. It made you grin harder. But his expression was short lived. As soon as he noticed your drippy eyes and pale skin, he frowned deeply.

Which caused you to frown, wondering what was going on in his head which made him make that face.

"Are you sick, babe?" He removed his hands from your waist and cupped your face. Not wanting to worry him, you shook your head and took his hands in yours. Giving him what you hoped was a convincing smile, you assured him you were fine.

You were internally grimacing and planning to take a trip to the bathroom later to have a puking session. 'Great! Note the sarcasm.'

He finally let you go when the bell rang, though he was very reluctant. Making sure he was out of sight, you rushed to the female washroom to heave your breakfast and last night's undigested junk out in the toilet. Unlike many people, you never got disoriented while puking, so you were properly holding back your ponytail and making sure that the drawstrings of your hoodie didn't get stained.

After washing your face and mouth countless times, you stumbled out into the corridor, only to find yourself in the arms of Namjoon.

"Seriously, y/n? You could've just told me." He helped you stand upright and began escorting you to the nurse's office. "I never should've let her take care of me while I was sick." He murmured to himself, but you heard it as clear as day.

You let him manhandle you until you both reached the pristine white door.

Soon, you were on the bed, while the nurse explained that you were infected with a common flu. Namjoon was nodding along to whatever she was saying, knowing very well that he was the reason this was happening. The nurse went in to explain that the vomiting was not because of the flu, but simply because you had an upset stomach.

*****

"Joon, you don't have to do this."

"You did this for me, I'm the reason this is happening, so I'll do what I want to. And don't worry, I won't cook. Even if I don't break anything, whatever I'll make will just make you sicker."

He carefully laid you down on your own comfy bed, and wrapped you with the covers properly. He checked your temperature and ordered some food. He then proceeded to call your mother and let her know that you were sick and you both were at your house and that he was taking care of you.

After all of that was done, all that was left was the food, which would be arriving shortly. Namjoon finally decided to lay down next to you, remembering how comfortable he felt when you cuddled with him when he was ill.

"No, no, Joon. You'll get sick again."

"It's my virus, I'll be okay. I'm immune by now." He threw his arm around your torso and cuddled you. You hugged him back. As tall and big as he was, he really was like a baby. Too bad the moment was ruined because of the doorbell.

Namjoon sighed and rolled his eyes before getting up to receive the order. After you heard the front door close, you recognised the clatter of cabinets being opened and closed. He was taking out proper cutlery for you both. You wondered what he ordered for you, hoping that it wasn't soup. You knew that all you gave him throughout the last week was soup and tea, but you found both of those incredibly boring dishes. Unless you had something else to eat with them.

Thankfully, he knew about your little habit. While you were busy in your own world, he was making toast for you.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the door to your room opened. Namjoon very carefully stepped in with a big tray, with two plates and a bowl on top. You sighed when you saw the bowl, knowing it was soup.

'Well, I've got to suck it up, I suppose. Getting sick isn't exactly the best feeling in the world.' You grumbled internally.

He kept the plate on the bedside drawer, and proceeded to feed you. It felt increasingly like déjà vu. You were very happy when you saw that the toast was for you. He ate a bite of his own dish, teasing you that you wouldn't be able to eat something like that for a while.

*****

You mother removed her shoes and kept her bag on the table, sighing tiredly. She loved doing what she did, but that didn't mean it wasn't tiring. She climbed the stairs to check on you, internally thankful that you had scored yourself a boyfriend like Namjoon, who would always be there for you and support you through thick and thin.

She knocked lightly, already suspecting you were asleep. Getting now reply, she opened the door, only to find two lumps closely stuck together under the blankets.

The sight made her break into a smile. She gently peeled the covers off of both of your faces, and took your phone to call his mother. School had long been over, and she knew how his mother would be feeling when she didn't hear from her son all day.

...I may have pressed the save button instead of the publish on last night. Curse me, my memory, and my habit of fat fingering everything (almost everything)!

*in tiny* I hate life.

~XoXo, me