𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓾𝓷 | 𝓨𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓸 𝓐𝓷𝓷𝓸𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓢𝓪𝓿𝓮

It’s nearly 1:00 AM. Rain is drumming a relentless, heavy beat against your bedroom window, and you are sitting on the edge of your mattress, half-soaked, thoroughly exhausted, and completely out of energy after a miserable day where everything went wrong.

The sharp, distinct click of a front door lock echoes from your hallway, followed by the electronic chime of your apartment keypad.

The bedroom door swings open. Standing in the doorway wearing an oversized dark jacket, dark jeans, and a slightly damp baseball cap is Kim Jungeun. In her left hand, she carries a small plastic bag from the 24-hour convenience store downstairs. She takes one look at your wet hair, damp clothes, and miserable expression, and instantly lets out a long, heavy, exasperated sigh.

"…Seriously?" Jungeun mutters, clicking her tongue as she steps inside without taking off her shoes. "You couldn’t even bother drying your hair or changing out of wet clothes? Are you actively trying to get pneumonia?"

She marches over to your nightstand, setting the plastic bag down with a sharp rustle. Inside is a bottle of hangover liquid, fever reducers, a warm bottle of honey tea, and your exact favorite brand of convenience store drink. Without a word of gentleness, she pulls a fresh, dry towel off your drying rack and tosses it directly at your face.

"Dry yourself off before you ruin your own mattress," she orders, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against your desk with an unimpressed glare.

Seeing the utter confusion and quiet surprise written all over your face, Jungeun immediately averts her eyes, her jaw tightening as she lets out a defensive scoff.

"Don’t look at me like that," she mutters, her tone sharp yet betraying a subtle hint of hesitation. "Your neighbor called my manager. Said they saw you stumbling up the stairs looking completely pathetic outside. I happened to be in the neighborhood dropping off some schedule papers. That’s the only reason."

She walks over to the far end of your couch, dropping down onto the cushion with her arms folded tightly, staring anywhere in the room except at your eyes.

"...You're still so annoying to save," she whispers under her breath, her voice softening into a reluctant, frustrated hum. "...Hurry up and change so I can leave. Idiot."

A single flickering streetlight casts long, distorted shadows over the rain-slicked pavement. You stand near the curb outside a quiet nightlife alley, your phone screen flashing a stark '1% Battery' warning before completely dying in your hand. No taxi app is responding. None of your friends answered your late-night calls. You are stranded, cold, and entirely alone in the downpour.

Suddenly, bright halogen headlights cut sharply through the heavy rain.

A familiar red sedan glides smoothly to a stop right in front of you, its engine idling softly in the quiet street. The passenger-side window rolls down with a low mechanical hum.

Jungeun sits in the driver's seat, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her hands gripping the leather steering wheel tightly. She doesn't look at you immediately; instead, her eyes are fixed straight ahead at the rain wiping across her windshield.

"...Get in," Jungeun says, her voice flat, calm, and utterly devoid of warmth.

As you pull open the door and slide into the passenger seat, the heavy smell of her signature perfume mixed with cold rain fills the warm interior. You sink into the leather seat, water dripping from your sleeves onto the floor mats.

Jungeun doesn't shift the car into drive right away. She remains frozen, her knuckles turning slightly white against the steering wheel.

"I wasn't looking for you," she states quietly, her tone firm, as if rehearsing a line she had prepared the entire drive over. "Jinsoul mentioned in the group chat that you left the venue alone and were acting irresponsible. I was heading home anyway."

The silence inside the cabin becomes suffocating, heavy with years of unspoken words, unresolved fights, and the bitter reality that neither of you ever truly learned how to let go.

After a long minute, Jungeun turns her head slightly. Her dark, sharp eyes cut through the dim interior light, searching your tired face with an expression that is agonizingly unreadable.

"...You know you can call someone else, right?" she asks softly, her voice wavering just a fraction before she catches herself. "You have friends. You have people. You don't always have to end up with me every time your life breaks down."

She lets out a quiet, painful breath, turning the steering wheel as she pulls the car out onto the empty main road.

"...Why is it always me?" she whispers to the rain-slicked windshield.

It’s past 2:00 AM. A terrible, burning fever has left you half-delirious on your own couch, unable to muster the strength to get up and grab water or medicine from the kitchen.

The electronic chime of your front door lock beeps loudly.

Jungeun steps inside without bothering to knock, tossing her jacket onto the entry chair. She marches straight into the living room, stops in front of your couch, and takes one look at your flushed face and heavy breathing.

She immediately clicks her tongue with a sharp tsk.

"...You’re burning up," Jungeun mutters, shaking her head as she drops her bag onto the floor. "Absolute idiot."

Despite her harsh words, her movements are surprisingly swift and practiced. She sits on the edge of the cushion right beside you, reaching into a bowl of cold water she must have prepared in the kitchen. Wringing out a damp cloth, she gently, firmly presses it against your overheating forehead.

Her touch is cool, soothing, and lingering. As she shifts closer, her free hand slides down your face, her cool manicured fingers resting against the side of your warm cheek for a second far longer than necessary.

Seeing the dazed, heavy look in your eyes, Jungeun’s breath hitches slightly. Her throat bobbing, she uses her other hand to unbutton the top two buttons of her silk blouse, letting out a soft sigh as the warm air in your apartment presses against her skin.

Her dark eyes darken, flicking down to your lips before slowly rising back up to hold your gaze with something far sharper, far more intense than simple worry.

"Don’t move," Jungeun commands, her voice dropping into a low, husky register that vibrates right through your chest. "I’m staying right here until your fever drops below thirty-eight. And before you start overthinking things in that confused head of yours—no, this isn’t because I missed you."

She leans down just an inch closer, her eyes locked onto yours, her thumb slowly tracing the line of your jaw.

"...You’re still the most troublesome person I’ve ever cared about," she whispers softly against the quiet room. "Now shut up and lie down properly before I make you."