☆Bad sickness☆Sunghoon☆

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Sunghoon fights to control his emotions.
As he sees you.

Anger and frustration surge through him, causing him to despise you.

You were the reason he and his girlfriend had broken up, all because of the arranged marriage between you and him.

He told you that he would never ever forgive or love you and to keep his distance.

But despite those strong feelings, he couldn't ignore the fact that he had a terrible fever and was in dire need of help.

You knew he was gonna be stubborn but you wouldn't let this phase you.

——
"Go away," he said. "I don't want to see your face."

Sunghoon looks away, turning his head.
"Just because you're in a caring mood doesn't mean I'll forget how you ruined my life. Just leave." He didn't yell, but his voice was full of hatred.

You noticed that he hadn't even looked at you since you entered the room.
His eyes were fixed on the window, but you suspected he was suppressing his anger and trying not to speak to you at all.

Despite this, he was clearly in pain, and the fever had made him feel weak and lethargic. As you looked closer at his face, you noticed he looked pale and seemed to be sweating.

"Just go," he barked. "I don't want you here." His voice was sharp, and you felt a chill when he snapped at you. He shifted his head on the pillow, trying to get comfortable, but you noticed that his breathing was still fast and shallow.

"You're in no condition for this to be arguing," you said calmly, taking a step closer to him. You brushed the hair off his forehead, and his breaths grew faster as he fought to control himself.

"You have a fever, and I know how stubborn you can be. So just let me take care of you."

"Fine," he said, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to suppress his hatred for you. You weren't sure if it was frustration over the situation or just his general dislike for you that was causing him to act this way.

He didn't look up at you, but he continued breathing slowly and shallowly, and you were still worried about his fever.

You continued to take care of him, wiping his forehead with the cool towel and giving him sips of water.
As time passed, his breaths grew slower, and his fever appeared to ease a bit. After a while, he finally opened his eyes and looked up at you. His gaze was filled with mixed emotions, and while his eyes did not look like the angry and harsh ones before, there was still a distinct resentment towards you.

"Do you need anything else?"

"No," he muttered quietly, looking away, his expression still tense and guarded. He sat up and adjusted himself on the bed, his face stiffening as he tried to mask his discomfort.

"Do you need more cold towels? Or maybe food?"

"I don't want anything." He said it quietly, shaking his head. Despite his fever slowly receding, his mood remained sullen and defiant, and he seemed to be actively avoiding looking at you. He seemed to only concentrate on the wall opposite the bed.

"Okay, well, get some rest. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner."

"I don't want dinner," he muttered, his voice hoarse from the fever. "I don't want anything." He glanced away from you, his brows furrowed, and he looked like he was starting to get agitated again, his anger clearly returning.

You chuckle, deciding to break a joke: "Who said I was making dinner for you?"

"Then just leave me alone. I don't need you here." His voice was harsh and agitated, but you could hear a hint of weakness underneath his anger, as well as a lack of appetite and fatigue. While his mood was still quite abrasive, you could sense that, despite his dislike for you, he was exhausted and unwell.

He did not find the joke funny.

"Make sure you get some rest and are not staring at the ceiling."

"Fine," he muttered, turning his face away from you and leaning back against the pillows.
You could tell he was feeling tired and weak, and he looked like he just wanted to rest.

He turned his head away from you again, his expression still guarded and angry, but he seemed content with the silence and didn't protest any further.

As you turned to leave, you noticed that, despite his angry and tense atmosphere, his breathing remained shallow and his face looked flushed.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was actually feeling worse than you thought.

——
After spending time in the kitchen and making dinner, you returned to the bedroom to check up on him. He was still lying down in bed, his eyes closed, his body still and quiet. His breathing was shallow and quick, and there was a faint sweat on his forehead. He didn't look good, and it was obvious that regardless of his defiance, he wasn't feeling well.

"Sunghoon?"

He didn't respond to your voice, his body remaining rigid and still. His breath came in quick, shallow gulps, and you noticed that his breathing sounded almost like a whisper. His face looked pale and damp, and although he had his eyes closed, you couldn't help but feel like he was awake and just refusing to speak to you.

As you observed him, a sense of worry began to wash over you. His feverish symptoms appeared to be worsening, and he was growing visibly weaker. His breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, and it was clear that he could not continue in his current state without
assistance.

"Sunghoon..." You called out, gently shaking him on the shoulder. His eyes remained closed despite your efforts to rouse him, and he continued to lie there motionless and still. He remained rigid and unresponsive, his breaths becoming even quicker and more shallow. It was clear that something had to be done before his condition deteriorated to a serious point.

"Stop playing with me, Sunghoon...Wake up!"
His breathing continued to grow more rapid and shallow in response to your attempts to rouse him. He remained motionless, and his body felt cold to the touch. His expression was still and unmoving.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that his condition was worsening, and if nothing was done, his condition could reach a state that was difficult to recover from.

You felt a sudden wave of panic as he remained so still and unresponsive.
The sight of him lying cold and pale on the bed, his breathing quick and shallow, was quite alarming. You had never seen him this unwell before, and you knew you could not waste any time helping him.

Having decided that the situation was too serious to ignore, you called his personal doctor for assistance. After making the call, you sat down by the bed and waited anxiously for them to arrive.
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Idk what up with me leaving cliffhangers and never finishing them🙂

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