Hold Me Tight (Or Don't) → INDA

Chapter Three

Inseong's voice comes out scratchy and rough, and he winces after it sends an awful shock through his dry throat. The blonde shoots up immediately, panicked until he sets eyes on Inseong. Almost as if he was afraid of losing him, he brings a hand forward and presses it to his arm. "Hey." His voice, groggy and worried, sends a chill down the other's spine. He yawns.

"Why... Are you here?"

His voice cracks on almost each word, but Sanghyuk, though he would love to laugh at it, instead only sits forward and peels the cloth away, which has somehow stuck to his face. He presses his knuckle against Inseong's forehead, then his cheeks, frowning. "Doesn't matter. You're burning up. Here, lay back down."

Really, Inseong wants to ask three important questions to the concerned blonde. One wasn't even a question, but he still wanted to say it.

1. How did you get into my apartment?
2. Why do you care?
3. Fuck off.

But, since everything he said made him jolt with pain and threatened nausea, he would stick with a stern glare as he settled back down.

"Okay," Sanghyuk nods, standing up from the chair he'd dragged in from the kitchen a room over. "You'll be okay."

He seems to be assuring himself, really, and that only sends Inseong into a flurry of panic. Why wouldn't he be okay? This was just a cold.

The blonde turns to leave, looking over his shoulder. "I'm just going to wet this," he waves the rag, "then bring you a bowl in case you throw up. Are you hungry? Probably not, right? If you are I can still make something. Are you?"

Inseong barely registers himself shaking his head before he stops himself, angry that he was going along with the other playing doctor so easily. When Sanghyuk leaves, he snatches his phone from where he'd tossed it earlier.

SANGHYUK (MUTED): MISSED CALL (4)
SANGHYUK (MUTED): TEXT MESSAGE (16)
SANGHYUK (MUTED): MISSED CALL (18)
SANGHYUK (MUTED): PICTURE MESSAGE (2)
SANGHYUK (MUTED): AUDIO MESSAGE (8)

Damn, a bitch was needy.

Speaking of being needy, when was Sanghyuk coming back? He was hungry. He wanted soup.

He lays back, setting his phone down on the pillows beside him. The rain outside was quiet, muted against the background noise of the apartment complex. Which, wasn't much to begin with, it was mostly just the faint sound of somebody vaccuuming upstairs, music playing from downstairs, and the elevator dinging every so often down the hall.

Sanghyuk comes barrelling back into the room, calming only after making eye contact with the other. "Oh, thank God. Here." What, was Inseong just supposed to get up and run for the hills? Why was Sanghyuk so worried?

He drops the cloth back onto his forehead, setting a bowl down beside the bed. "In case you throw up."

"Y'said that." He mumbles, reaching for the water bottle Sanghyuk holds just almost out of his reach. He gladly hands it over. After taking a slow sip of it, he decides he should be able to speak without it hurting so much. "Can you make soup?"

The response is instant, but it definitely isn't as condescending as Inseong expected from him. "Of course!"

After a short pause, he grabs a stray blanket from the end of the bed. "But, just to make me feel better, come with me. Just lay on the couch, I want to keep an eye on you."

Inseong refuses by turning over onto his side, tangling himself up in his sheets. The washcloth falls off and he groans, slapping it back over his face like a mask. Sanghyuk huffs in annoyance.