the spaces in betweenㅣtaeyong

31 ; love equals care

He laughed, walking up and sitting next to me on the bed. "You know what I mean. You started a really bad fever last night, and you were breathing so hard that it was a little concerning,"

He let out a small nervous chuckle at that and my eyes softened.

"I guess you're even worse with alcohol than I am," He said this more to himself, nodding as he turned to me and put the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Maybe, but I feel pretty okay now," I insisted, looking away so his hand dropped. He just gave me a defiant look and told me to prove it.

"How would I prove it? I'm fine!"

a lie.

I felt quite the opposite from fine, actually. I definitely at least had a fever; not to mention that I was about drowning in my own sweat while still managing to shiver, and I was so dizzy I felt like I might about fall over if I tried to stand on my own. But it wasn't like I would let that stop me from anything; finals were too close to get sick so suddenly.

He raised a brow. "Okay. I'll believe you when you stand up, then,"

Stubbornly, I began to do so, until I realised why he was probably doing this. He must have seen me trying to stand earlier, and my cheeks heated up involuntarily as I remembered the struggle. So, begrudgingly, I just sat back down again, avoiding his knowing expression.

"I know you aren't well; it's practically radiating off of you. So quit trying to put up a facade," He told me, making me sigh.

"I'm not putting up a facade, "I mumbled quietly, finally admitting, "Okay. Fine. You're right, I don't actually feel that good,"

He nodded, saying that he knew.

"Dohyeong, I ran a bath for you, so go clean yourself up,"

My hand instinctively went towards my hairline that was still damp with sweat. Along with washing off, something like a bath might help me feel better as well.

As if sensing my intentions, Taeyong stood up and held out his forearm to me. I passed him a small grateful smile and accepted his help, trying to keep my numb limbs from tripping over each other. It was hard to, though, and he noticed, walking a little slower.

"Your body must be pretty decently out of it," He said this teasingly after I managed to stumble for the second time on the ten feet walk over to the bathroom, making my face heat up.

As we walked, I begrudgingly mumbled out, "I'm never drinking again."

He didn't say anything to that, just smiling. I figured that the sentence made him a little happy, even if he knew it was just a spur of the moment thing to say. But this just made me even more curious about his relation to things like drinking. Whatever it was, it was obviously big to him, and I was dying to figure out why.

"Call if you need anything, okay?"

As soon as he shut the door behind him, I took in the room he had somehow managed to make feel so much nicer. Though there wasn't much to look at, the little things that he had done made my heart beat fast in adoration.

The air was filled with the soft scent of the ocean, like the sort of smell that came with the ocean breeze in the summer. Sort of salty, but calm; ones that brought back inevitable memories. As I made my way over to the tub that was filled with blatantly blue water and thick cloudy bubbles, I determined that it was the origin of the scent.

Sitting on the edge and wincing at the momentary ache in my thighs, I ran my fingers through the water.

It almost sparkled under the light.