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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

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we need a please love me argument or something drabble from after they got married and confessed their love for each other!!11!

Hi, they're back! Just a reminder to think of OC's personality bc this is already a 'fight' for her hehe. I don't know how this is bc I'm not in my best form but I still hope you enjoy 🥰

Title: Please Love Me Bonus 07 - The Fight

WC: 14,953

Tags/Warnings: angst; mentions of pregnancy; hospital setting/talks of illness that might be inaccurate (I just based some off my own experience)

Series Masterlist

It started small.

It was a fleeting moment that you barely missed it - one exhale and you felt that knot in your chest that once was familiar. You brushed it off, not thinking much of it. It wasn’t the first time, yet all those other times, once was enough and it didn’t happen again.

But this time wasn’t like that; this time, you felt it once, then another time, then another, the long intervals between knots getting shorter and shorter.

You try to even out your breathing, grounding yourself so you can listen more to what your body is saying, to what your heart is saying. It starts to work as you count the seconds and the minutes because it starts to go away. It may have taken a lot longer, but just like those other times, this one ends, too.

You’re unable to process what just happened as your phone rings, your husband’s sigh greeting you on the other end.

“Hey, Kook. Everything okay?”

“No. One of the associates gave me wrong figures and I overlooked some elements for my presentation tomorrow,” he groans. “I was gonna stay up late in the office but I’m too pissed off. Are you still at the studio? Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah, I’m just working on my last design,” you reply, already packing up. “And sure. I can call your favorite Japanese restaurant and we can pick up the food on the way home. Is that okay?”

“Yes please. That’s what I really need right now. And you. Be there in 15.”

“I’ll see you, hun. And chin up, you’ll be okay.”

He hums his goodbye and you feel the tiredness from his voice, and the earlier ache in your chest is now replaced by worry for your husband.

Jungkook rarely lets the toxicity of his job affect him, so hearing him frustrated is something you’re not used to. You feel for him, as the new project he’s taken on is a big one, and you just know he wants nothing more than to prove himself to his family this once. He’s begun having bigger responsibilities after all, and he’s said as much that he wants to step away from his brother’s shadow and be his own self, show that he’s just as capable and can get things done his way, too.

A small smile tugs on your face, knowing that a good meal and some encouragement from you might do the trick. You call the restaurant and head outside once he messages that he’s nearby.

Mr. Yu, the chauffeur, stops the car and Jungkook exits, enveloping you in a hug and mumbling his hi. He doesn’t even give you time to properly greet him back, as his body curls into yours and you feel him exhale - a deep one, as if he’s been holding onto his breath the whole day.

“Hi,” you smile, kissing his nose. “The food will be ready in a while. Let’s pick it up and we can talk, okay?”

Jungkook nods and leads you inside, immediately taking your hand like it’s his lifeline. He asks you about your day first and you narrate how it went - ocular of a hall you’ll be designing and then art class for the kids in the afternoon. Then he talks about his - the tense meeting with the staff member who gave him outdated information, the conversation with his father about the expectations for this upcoming project, and having to skip lunch to help his Japan team troubleshoot something.

“I’m exhausted and my head has been hurting all day but I’ve got so much to do,” he exhales deeply before falling into your lap, your hand reflexively combing his long locks that has him moaning at your touch.

“Hmm. And how much coffee have you had today?”

“Five cups,” he answers with his eyes closed, his breathing steadying now as you start to massage his temples.

“That’s 3 cups too much, hun,” you say softly; he said he’d regulate his caffeine intake and you know he’s been trying.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “It’s just been tough, but this is nice. Let’s eat then I can work in the dining room while you watch Masterchef or something?”

You hum your yes, saying you’ve actually got some design studies to work on so you can both work together downstairs.

And that’s what happens as you put away your dirty plates after dinner and settle in your respective spots. Jungkook likes to work with you around when he’s at home, only staying in his office off your bedroom when he’s pulling an all-nighter. Having you close calms him down, he’s always said, as your soothing voice and presence give him the most comfort, even if it’s just a quick look at your expression as you watch TV or your sweet laughter or your tender words.

“You look serious there, babe,” he looks over at you from the dining table. “You’ll get wrinkles if you frown too much.”

“I can’t find the right art piece for this one wall,” you groan. “This is gonna keep me up.”

“Maybe you just need to sleep on it. I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he comforts.

“Hmm, maybe,” you say, your body slowly giving up as it yearns for the bed, chest pains already forgotten. “Join me?”

You walk towards him and sit on his lap as he asks you to, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“Probably in 2 hours or so. I wanna get this presentation finished tonight,” he pouts, apologetic.

“Okay. I’ll wash up and go to bed. Rest soon, okay?”

He holds you a little longer for his goodnight kiss, tickling you before letting you go.

You walk to your room and fall asleep right away, suddenly feeling as if you’d run a marathon today when your body hits the bed. It seems to have been happening more frequently, though - feeling incredibly tired at the end of the day, whether you had a full-packed schedule or a light one. You went to a boutique store yesterday and painted at home then felt dizzy and faint by the evening.

It’s 4 hours later when you suddenly wake up, a mix of that knot on your chest and shortness of breath almost jerking you off the bed. But you catch yourself, turning to the side to see if you’d somehow disturbed Jungkook’s sleep, but you’re surprised to find he’s not there. You see light coming from the office and your husband’s mumbling, and so you get up and walk over to him.

“Kook, it’s past 2,” you stand by the door and sleepily call out to him. “Come to bed.”

“Baby, what are you doing up?” He turns to you with a frown, his long locks almost covering the glasses over his eyes.

“Just woke up. It’s hard to sleep without you,” you frown back.

“Sorry. I’m finishing up already,” he turns again towards his laptop.

“You can do that tomorrow. Just wake up early but sleep now. You’ve had a long day, come on.”

With you standing behind him and your arms around his neck, you pepper his cheeks with kisses to further convince him, knowing you need to shower him with affection so he’d listen to you.

And it works, as he chuckles and turns his laptop off. He heads to the bathroom to wash up while you lay in bed facing his side as you regulate your breathing again, feeling the tightness subside with every set of breaths.

He lies down next to you and kisses your lips before you turn around so your back faces him, his arms enveloping you, with him pulling you as close as he possibly can. Jungkook buries his head in your neck and finds his peace there.

“It’s hard to sleep without this, too,” he hums. “Love you. See you in my dreams.”

It started small, like it always does.

A pinch in the muscle - one, two, three seconds longer than usual; one, two, three instances more than what you’ve been having. You try to take a breath, knowing it’s what’s always worked, but it doesn’t this time. This time, your chest feels tight, too, like something is keeping you from breathing, like you’re gasping for air in the large space of the art studio.

“Hey, do you need some help to pack up?” The teacher for the next class asks; you can already hear the giggles of her little students not far away.

You try to pick up your tools from the desk but your hands and arms feel numb. This will take time, you think, so you smile at her and nod, letting her put away some of the palettes that your kids have left behind. You walk slowly, unable to fully feel your legs, too, and that’s when you start to panic.

“Everything okay?” She looks at you worriedly. “You look a little pale.”

“Oh? Just tired, I guess,” you fake a smile. “I’ll just, uh…”

“Rest, ___. You’ve been working hard on your project and your exhibition. You don’t want all that to catch up to you.”

Too late, you tell yourself, as the helplessness that once was familiar starts to overtake you. You just nod and assure her, then fortunately manage to walk out the street for fresh air and take some medicine. You’re relieved that those at least work, lessening the pain that you’re feeling.

But you know you’re not out of the woods yet, and so you raise your arm to hail a cab, thankful that the hospital is only a 15-minute drive away.

You settle in the backseat, ready to dial Jungkook’s number when you read the text he’d sent an hour ago - I don’t know why I’m so nervous, babe. I’ve barely eaten anything all day. But thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.

You’d messaged him earlier, wishing him well for his presentation today, and you know how much this means to him. He’s worked so hard on this; it’s a big project and the directors have got their eyes on him. There’s no way you’ll add to the stress that he’s been experiencing for the last few weeks.

It’s a little past 2 and he’s set to present a quarter before 3. His palms are probably already sweating as he dries them on his shaking legs. He’s never been nervous for any of soccer matches even when he was a teenager, but you’d understand if this is the one thing that’s making him lose his cool a little bit; he may never directly say it but you know he just wants to impress the big bosses, and that includes his father and yours.

You decide against calling him for now. Your breathing has evened out already, and you still think it’s just one of those moments and there’s nothing to worry about. You were always told that this could still happen, after all, but that doesn’t necessarily mean a relapse. It happened a few years ago and all you did was have a change in medication and all was fine after. Like then, this may as well be just a minor thing that you can easily get over on your own. You’ll call Jungkook after you know more about what’s happening to you, knowing he’ll be asking anyway, and not giving him an answer immediately will just scare him.

The emergency room has less people than you expected, although you can say you’re probably the calmest out of all the patients there. Given, you’re in one piece and not puking your guts out so you believe you’re fine, but the attending physician doesn’t seem convinced, as you narrate what you’re feeling.

“Your heartbeat is irregular and your blood pressure is quite low,” she informs you after doing the basics. She looks through your record and confirms your condition. “No relapse since your surgery 15 years ago,” she reads. “No reported abnormalities, no alarming findings… but these are still from last year.”

“Yes, I’m due for my annual check up in 2 months,” you say, as you sit on the hospital bed.

“Well, seems like you’re due now,” she hums, excusing herself to make a call then returning to you. “Dr. Kwon is just finishing with surgery so he’ll see you after, but I’ll have you run some tests already. We’ll call you for x-ray in a while. We’ll take blood samples as well just to be sure.”

You nod, suddenly feeling nervous. These tests are routinary for you at this point; you take it every year every time you have your check-up, the one you’ve been having since the surgery that corrected your heart over a decade ago.

But you’ve never had to come back to the hospital out of your usual schedule ever since you fully recovered. Because any pain you’d felt since then was never serious; it never lingered, it never left you feeling breathless or numb. It never got you feeling weak, and it definitely never had you feel this anxious because it had never hurt this way.

It’s 3:30 by the time you finish filling up all the forms, and though you know nothing more than an irregular heartbeat and low blood pressure, you decide to send Jungkook a text to let him know where you are, knowing his presentation would be done by now. But right as you’re about to, the technician calls your name for the x-ray, and it’s not until several minutes later when you get your phone back and decide to just give him a call.

He doesn’t pick up after the third try, so you go for your next option and call Junghyun, as he knows that you only ever call when something is up.

“Hey, ___. You okay?” He answers.

“Hi. Is Jungkook still presenting?” Your voice quivers.

“He’s done but he’s somewhere in front answering questions,” Junghyun responds.

“Did he do well?” You ask, wanting to know.

“He was really nervous but everyone was impressed,” the older man smiles. “Were you the one calling him? He left his phone in his seat and I saw it light up.”

“Yeah, I, uh… Once he’s free, can you just let him know that I’m in the ER? My chest felt tight and—”

“You’re what?” He almost yells, his voice in a panic. “What happened? How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fine… I think,” you sigh. “It was just chest pains. I’ll see Dr. Kwon in a while then I’ll know more.”

“Fuck, okay. Who’s with you?”

“Just me.”

There’s a pause in the other end. “What are you doing now?”

“Waiting for the next tests. Can you, uh, can you let Jungkook know once he’s done there?”

“I’m telling him now, ___. You’re in the emergency room and he needs to be there with you.”

“Okay,” your voice shrivels, not used to Junghyun’s authoritative tone. “I’m being called for my ECG. I’ll, uh, I’ll be waiting for him.”

Junghyun drops the call and returns to the conference room. He immediately walks to his brother and whispers what you’d said.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock, worry and distress painting them. He quickly excuses himself and runs out the door, leaving the older man to explain to their father and yours what had happened, both of whom panic as well and make calls.

It’s another red light that Jungkook beats, and he makes it to the hospital in 15 minutes, almost half of the usual time it takes to get there from his office. He asks around the ER where you are, and he’s directed to a room where he finds you lying in bed, looking perfectly normal, save for your furrowed brows as you seem to be answering messages on your phone.

“Baby!” He exclaims, rushing towards you and taking you in his arms. “What happened? What hurts?”

“Hey, honey,” you look up at him and smile nervously. “I’m fine, I just…”

“Babe, you can’t be fine when you’re here. Your check-up isn’t due in 2 months. What… what brought you here?”

“I was, uh, I was having—”

“___,” the familiar voice of Dr. Kwon calls out for you, prompting you to turn to him. “I wish I could say I’m happy to see you before our scheduled check-up, but it’s never a good thing seeing a patient here before I’m supposed to.”

“Hi,” you smile, returning his hug. “I suppose it isn’t. But I didn’t know what to do. It was getting too painful.”

“Tell me what happened,” he instructs.

And so you do, telling him of the times you’d experienced this since your last meeting, and how it had hurt too much earlier, forcing you to come here. Jungkook holds your hand the entire time, and you’re immersed in your narration that you miss the way his jaws clench and unclench as he listens to your stories.

Clearly this isn’t the first time it’s happened, although it’s the first time that he’s hearing about it. It seems like you’ve been experiencing this and chose not to tell him.

“What do you think may have triggered it?” Dr. Kwon asks.

“I don’t really know,” you shrug. “I mean, I’ve sort of been doing the same things - working at the firm, doing my own pieces, teaching art classes… just focused on my regular job.”

“Looks like it’s 2 jobs too many,” he responds, his eyebrow arching the way that doctors do when they catch you doing something you shouldn’t.

“I rest and exercise and take my medication,” you counter. “All the work is fine. It’s an imperfect heart we’re working with, you know?” You giggle, trying to diffuse the tension.

Dr. Kwon just shakes his head and returns to his records. “So you’ve got the x-ray and ECG done. You’ll have blood tests after this then we can do the 2D echo in the evening after I schedule it. I’ll need you to be confined for the other tests.”

“What other tests? Can’t I come back tomorrow and do them then?” You ask, not really keen on spending the night at the hospital.

“It’ll be easier to monitor you from here, especially since the pain seems recurring. But I’ll schedule the stress test and MRI tomorrow morning so you can go home right after,” he responds. “Better ask someone to pack you and your husband some clothes. I’ll have the nurse pick you up to bring you to your room; just wait here.”

You nod as Jungkook lets go of your hand.

“You’ve had 2 tests done already? What time did you get here?” He asks, his voice low and disappointed.

“Around 2:30,” you respond casually.

Jungkook feels his own heart rate shoot up. It’s 4PM, and he’s sure it was just half an hour ago when his brother had cut off their discussions to tell him that you’d called about your whereabouts. The fact that you didn’t call him - your husband - much earlier is making him incredibly upset. He wants to ask you why you’d delayed it, why you’ve been keeping all this from him, when you planned on telling him if it didn’t get this bad.

But knowing you, you’d pick up on this, and he doesn’t want to add to you feeling any more pain that you apparently have been experiencing, so he takes a breath and lets things go for now, and he just nods.

He gazes at you looking pale and nervous, and he tries to think of how you may be feeling - back in the hospital when you’d believed everything was already okay.

“Baby,” he says, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “We have to believe that things are fine, alright? That this isn’t serious. Worrying too much might make things worse.”

They’re things he doesn’t fully believe in himself. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He never experienced this with you; he hadn’t even known about your condition until 3 years ago, and he doesn’t know how you are when you’re in pain and what you need him to do or be for you. But he has to put aside his own concerns because this is about you, and the only thing he knows to be right now is strong so you can take that strength from him, too.

You smile, much more genuinely than you did earlier, and Jungkook thinks it’s a good first step.

“I’ll be okay, hun. Sorry I pulled you out of your meeting. Junghyun said that you did well, though,” you say, pulling him into a hug, your arms finally wrapping around his waist while his envelopes around yours.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter. You were here in pain while I was doing my presentation when I could’ve been with you,” he replies, trying to temper his voice. “I could’ve screwed up or completely missed it for all I care.”

“Nonsense, Kook,” you turn to him again. “You’ve been working so hard on that. I managed to get here on my own.”

You rest your head on his torso, not seeing his hardened and helpless face at how you casually dismiss what you’re experiencing and talk about his work like it’s all that matters when you’re the one in the hospital right now.

You still should’ve called, he wants so badly to say. I would’ve come here right away. But he decides against it. He was never good at bottling his feelings; he supposes he needs to learn that from you. He does it anyway, knowing that this isn’t the time nor place to get mad at you for it.

“Kook, can you be the one to talk to my mother?” You ask, giving him your phone. “She’s been calling and I’m too dizzy to rehash everything.”

“Okay, I will,” he responds, guiding you to lay on the bed and letting you take a nap first.

He calls your mother, then his, then your brother and sister, and then Nari and Yeji. There are so many people to update about your status but he pushes through it, despite the same words of you experiencing pain and needing to be monitored for the night becoming harder and harder for him to say.

“She seems fine, just looks tired as of now,” Jungkook informs each one. “We’ll know more tomorrow.”

They’ll drop by in the evening, they all say, and he’s thankful that there’ll at least be distractions, and he won’t have to be with you alone for long. He supposes that’s better, otherwise he’ll be tempted to push for answers on why you kept all this from him.

He calls Mr. Yu and Mrs. Na and instructs them to prepare your clothes for your stay and bring them over to the hospital. “Please buy a box of macarons on your way here,” he tells the chauffeur. “And her chamomile tea as well.”

Jungkook sits on the chair next to you and watches you take your nap. He sees you take deep breaths and he can sense your struggle, causing him to worry once more. You catch yourself and jerk awake.

“Was it hurting again?” He asks.

“A little,” you respond, raising yourself up off the bed.

“Just keep breathing. Here, drink some water.”

You follow as he says, and that’s when the nurse arrives and informs you that the VIP room is ready. You’re led there by wheelchair - an all too familiar scene - and Jungkook helps you lie down on the bed. The nurse takes blood samples and informs you of the scheduled test in 2 hours then leaves you right after.

“Tell me about your presentation,” you urge your husband. “What did they say?”

Work is the last thing that Jungkook wants to be talking about right now. He hates thinking about being in that room while you were here and all alone. You smile tenderly, as if you really want to know what took place, so he forces himself to think about it.

“That the project proposal was well-designed and well-thought out. I set out the plans and the entire process and got to show the expected outcomes and return of investment,” he explains. “They said it was sound and profitable, and that they were surprised I pulled it off on my own.”

“It’s silly that they still doubt you,” you frown. “Of course you’d pull it off. You’re innovative and incredibly hardworking, honey. They should know that by now.”

“Nah, I'm used to it,” he shrugs. “They’d take every chance they get to remind me that I’m not my brother.”

“And you aren’t, because you’re your own self with your strengths and own conviction. And don’t tell Junghyun, but you’re definitely funnier.”

Jungkook manages to chuckle a little, and your smile grows at the sound. “That last bit is definitely true,” he hums. “Thanks, babe. Though I didn’t mean to be so down.”

“Not at all. I just wanted to remind you of how good you are,” you comfort him, reaching out your hand that he takes. You sit up and pull him close. “You’re so good at so many things. Remember that.”

You cup his cheeks and kiss his lips, something you realize you haven’t done since he got here. It’s slow and gentle, which is exactly what you need after a scary experience; all you’ve been wanting is his touch and the comfort you get from being close to him.

Jungkook indulges you, kissing you back with just as much tenderness, and you smile against him, knowing that whatever happens, you have him next to you. And as long as he is, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

The knock on the door pulls you both apart, and you hear the familiar voices of both your parents and siblings who all hug you one by one.

A flurry of questions about how you’re feeling and what will happen next overwhelm you but you should’ve expected this; no one really thought you’d be back here after all these years.

Shortly after, your friends arrive and you have to say the same things, and you fumble for Jungkook’s hand next to you to keep you stable.

You dislike this part - the one where everyone is worried and no answer or assurance from you would be enough, and you hate that they have to go through that anxiety of not knowing as well. But you just smile through it and downplay the pain.

“It’s probably nothing; it’s more like a precaution thing, you know?” You reason. “I’m fine. Please, don’t worry too much.”

You mask the desperation with your smile, and you’re almost glad that Dr. Kwon enters and informs you that the nurses will start prepping you for your 2D echo.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kim,” he greets. “Not so great to see both of you.”

“Likewise,” your parents chuckle. “It’s never a good thing being back here, huh? But what happened? Why is she experiencing this so suddenly?”

“Well, your daughter did say that the chest pains have been recurring,” he responds.

“They have?” Your parents frown at you.

“They weren’t that bad,” you reason. “I mean, they weren’t painful to warrant a visit.”

“But this time it was,” Seokjin crosses his arms, looking disappointed. “And to the emergency room at that.”

“I didn’t faint or anything,” you reason. “Look, I’m fine now. It’s probably just stress. ”

“___, what did I say about stress? You’re not just like anyone who can experience it and then be fine. It’s not that simple,” Dr. Kwon warns.

“I know,” you whisper, feeling like that 13-year old child again who felt helpless when she was first told of the many things she couldn’t do despite having a normally functioning heart already. You’d like to think you’ve followed all the rules since then; it’s just lately when you’ve been more brave and wanting to do more.

“But is she going to be okay?” Soyeon asks this time.

“I suppose. The test results aren’t alarming and it seems it’s still bearable, but we’ll know more tomorrow,” he responds. “For now, she just needs to rest and take things easy.”

Everyone nods in agreement. The door opens with the nurses taking you away to be prepped. Jungkook kisses your forehead and tells you to just push through it and that it will be fine; you always said you disliked the pain from this specific test.

Back in the room, Jungkook feels light-headed. Perhaps he’s still reeling over seeing you on a hospital bed, being wheeled out and leaving him behind to wonder how much pain you’re in or how your heart looks like. Maybe it’s being in the room with your family and friends and all their questions that he doesn’t have answers to. He thinks it’s this new experience for him - this kind of fear that he’s never experienced before. It’s probably all of those, so he excuses himself to buy some snacks in the store just to get out of there.

Seokjin promptly follows his brother-in-law. “I want some snacks, too,” he responds after the younger man looks at him questioningly.

They walk in silence for a while before Seokjin asks. “Did you know about the other times?”

“No,” Jungkook almost whispers, his hands in his pockets as he mindlessly walks down the hallway. “She also only called earlier after 2 tests were done. I feel so fucking useless.”

“Hey, you aren’t, okay?” Seokjin sighs.

“If I wasn’t then I should’ve known about all the other times, and I could’ve convinced her to get checked earlier. Then she wouldn’t have needed to come here like this; then it wouldn’t have been this painful,” Jungkook responds, his voice more helpless now.

“Kook, you wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t told you. You’re not together 24/7. I love my sister but sometimes she tends to brush things off like that, thinking that the short-term burden of her sickness will just go away. But not this time. We just have to believe it’s not serious.”

Jungkook just nods, all the thoughts screaming at him and he just wants to lay next to you but also be away from you because how could you keep something like this from him.

There aren’t any more words exchanged, but Seokjin stays with his brother-in-law as they buy snacks and walk towards the wing where you are, probably currently squirming in pain as your chest is being pressed to get that image of your heart.

It’s some time later when they hear Dr. Kwon’s voice, calling for them.

“Jungkook,” he says. “It’s not surgery. You don’t have to be waiting here.” There’s a soft smile on his face, however, so that calms the younger man down a little.

“Just wanted to immediately know how she is,” he responds. “___ said she doesn’t like this test.”

“Ah, yeah she doesn’t,” Dr. Kwon chuckles. “She would pout her way out of even if she knows it won’t work. She did say she wished you were there with her though, holding her hand.”

“But what did you see?” Seokjin asks.

“A tired heart,” Dr. Kwon replies. “I honestly hope that’s all, but I’ll have to look through all the test results to be sure that there isn’t anything else.”

Your husband and brother sigh in relief.

“But keep an eye on her, okay?” The doctor tells Jungkook. “She mentioned feeling pain when she’s asleep so watch out for that. She just needs to breathe and be soothed. The tests tomorrow will tell me more but I can already tell you that she needs to rest.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Jungkook responds, his eyes softening at the sight of you smiling when you see him.

“You were waiting for me?” You ask.

Jungkook only nods but your brother responds, “everyone was so noisy in the room so we walked around. And got some snacks.”

You smile at them as they walk with you while being wheeled away to your room. You enter and sense the aroma of beef bone soup, and Minhyuk grins proudly at your satisfied face.

“You always said that hospital food didn’t excite you,” he says.

You express your thanks and the nurse announces your need to rest after dinner, prompting everyone to decide on leaving already.

Seokjin, who’d earlier sensed your husband’s own stress, whispers to him. “Just hold it in for now, okay? She’ll be alright.”

As the last parson leaves, Jungkook sits next to you on the bed and you both eat the delicious meal. He surprises you with the dessert he had bought and prepares your tea as you like to take before sleeping.

“Thank you, Kook,” you exclaim, kissing his cheek. “I’ll just wash up so we can both rest.”

“Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, I can do it in my own,” you assure him, disappearing into the bathroom.

Left alone for awhile, Jungkook takes to heart what your brother had advised him - hold it in for now. Knowing that you tend to absorb your husband’s own emotions - as you’d said once that it’s natural for you, that it’s how you get to empathize with him - he does as he’s told. He holds it in - the disappointment, the sadness, the doubt… and tells himself that this is about you and what’s best for you right now.

You finish up and he helps you in bed, then he washes himself, exiting the bathroom in his shirt and pajama pants.

“Do you want me to sleep next to you?” He asks. “You always said it’s hard to sleep without me.”

He gives the idea, knowing that it’s the only way for him to know if you feel pain while in slumber. He doesn’t think he trusts you in telling him otherwise.

“Yes, can you?” You ask excitedly.

“I guess? It’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll fit.”

So he scoots in next to you as you give him space, and you immediately wrap your arms around his torso as he wraps one around your shoulder. He supports himself against the headboard with his other arm behind his head.

He lets you listen to his heartbeat, confident that they’re perfectly normal, as if he isn’t buzzing deep inside.

“So how was your day going before all this happened?” He asks to eliminate the silence that’s suddenly feeling awkward for him.

“I was just at the studio,” you respond, snuggling next to him and enjoying the comfort of his warm body. “I got to finish a design study and then had class with the kids.”

“Did it start hurting then?”

“Hmm, right after, just when I was fixing up,” you say, slowly dozing off.

Having your class schedule memorized because it’s your favorite thing to talk about, Jungkook knows what time that was, and he knows you could’ve informed him then if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“So you just came here on your own?”

“Yeah,” you hum. “I hailed a cab. It’s a good thing that the hospital’s just near the studio.”

What if it wasn’t, he thinks. What if you were driving when it happened? What if there were no available cabs and it took long for you to get here? What if you were somewhere else where no one knew you? What if something worse had happened, and then he wouldn’t have known it at all because you waited so long to call him?

“Why didn’t you call me?” He manages to ask.

Somehow he has an idea of what you’ll say. You’ve only been married awhile but he knows enough about your courteousness, how you don’t like to burden other people, how you always put others before yourself. You’d developed that attitude because you don’t like being fussed over; you dislike having others worry about you. He noticed it earlier when you took his hand and held onto it tightly as your loved ones asked how you were feeling. And so he knows what’s coming next. He just didn’t think it would hurt and anger him this much.

“You were busy with work, Kook,” you mumble, and he knows you’re about to fall asleep. “Felt like I could manage and I did.”

What if you didn’t, he thinks again. What if it was someone else who’d called him? What would he do then?

“Sorry,” you add. “Just didn’t want to worry you.”

He hears you take a long breath and the succeeding low snores let him know you’ve fallen asleep. It’s been a long day for you, after all.

It’s been a long one for him, too. But unlike you, he’s filled with too many emotions to fall asleep. And contrary to what you wanted, he’s worrying even more. He’s worried about your condition. And he’s worried about himself.

Hold it in for now, Seokjin had told him.

Jungkook will try. But he doesn’t know for how long he can, and he doesn’t know how he’ll deal with you - how you’ll deal with it - once he’s unable to keep it in anymore.

Jungkook didn’t get a wink of sleep. Other than being unable to because he wanted to make sure that he’d be awake should you feel any sort of pain, he also couldn’t help but think about what you’d said.

In your few years of being married, you’d had small and brief arguments, mostly stemming from how incredibly different you both deal with emotions and conflict.

You tend to be unnecessarily courteous at times and too patient. You also prefer to let tension fade rather than addressing it, so more than half the time, any negative emotions you have are kept in and rarely ever mentioned. You don’t hold grudges, though, and you easily forgive, unlike Jungkook who’s always very transparent about what he feels. He talks about things, and he always talks about them with you, whether it’s about you or something else.

Despite all this, your little misunderstandings never escalated. They never really lasted, because more than half the time, he’s the one crawling next to you, hugging you tightly and saying that he doesn’t care whose fault it is, just that he wants to be okay again. He admits that a lot of times, it’s on him. He gets too emotional, too proud, too shortsighted, and unable to let things go. But right now, he doesn’t care if he’s all of that. He’ll feel what he’s feeling; he just won’t be able to express it fully.

The knock on the door puts him out of his thoughts. The nurse enters and Jungkook has to wake you for your MRI and stress test today.

“You’ll be okay to wait here?” You ask, as you watch him from the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just think about what you’ll do this morning. Don’t worry about me,” he says dryly.

“Okay, I’ll see you after.”

You’re wheeled out and Jungkook allows himself to fall asleep. He’s still exhausted from preparing for his presentation yesterday, and he’s dealing with too many thoughts in his head about you, about both of you, and an hour or so of slumber is what he needs.

He’s awoken by a phone call over an hour later, and he’s reminded that he failed to inform his team that he won’t be going to the office today. Perks of being the CEO’s son, he tells himself, but he also can’t bring himself to think about work and the project that he has to fine tune for immediate implementation.

All he can think about is you. And despite feeling anger and hurt, he also just wants you to feel okay. He hopes that deal that your parents made with the universe when you were born - the one where they asked to keep you alive and they’ll give you a life you’ll be happy with in return - holds up for the longest it possibly can. Regardless of what he feels about you, he also knows that seeing you smile can make him forget about his own pain.

And that’s what happens, albeit temporarily, when you return to the room and see a breakfast spread prepared for you, one that Jungkook had asked Mr. Yu to buy.

You smell the carnations that’s come with your meal and your face lights up.

“Where did you get this, Kook?”

“There’s a flower shop in the other building,” he responds. “Thought that can make you feel better.”

“Of course,” you say, walking towards him where he’s seated on the day bed. “But you’re also here and that's really all I need.”

Then why didn’t you ask me to come earlier, the question rings in his head. But he lets it stay there. For all the times that he’d willingly and easily put you first, he didn’t think that holding all his emotions in for your sake would be the hardest.

He hugs you back then lets you rest your head on his shoulders as you talk about the tests and that you have 2 hours before Dr. Kwon can meet you for the results and diagnosis.

You and Jungkook use the time to eat, take a shower, and pack your things. It’s not long after when you’re in your cardiologist’s clinic where he explains your condition.

“As I suspected, your heart is overworking,” he says. “Fortunately, the tests show no holes, no enlargement, or any other complications.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and take Jungkook’s hand. You didn’t want to be thinking of the worst and this is definitely not it. It had hurt so much yesterday that you were almost sure there was something severely wrong again, but this is actually welcome news. At least it’s something you know; it’s something that you can deal with, and it’s something you can easily address.

“What’s causing it?” Jungkook asks.

“Stress, perhaps. And lack of sleep,” the doctor answers, turning to you. “I know you’re eating well and exercising, but there’s still so much you’re doing. All that mental and physical and emotional exhaustion pushes your heart to overwork, to pump blood more than it’s capable of doing.”

“What does this mean, then?” Your husband asks once more. “I mean, what should she do? Will it get worse? How can we prevent this from happening again?”

“She should rest. And I mean, rest.” Dr. Kwon glares at you to emphasize his point. “Take a few days off from work, do some very light exercise, and have a change in medication. It will only get worse if she doesn’t let her heart breathe, if she doesn’t let it take its time to do its job properly. I know it sounds simple but that’s really it; there’s no shortcut to it. It’s just something to be done consistently.”

“Okay,” you hum. “I can take the week off. I can just turn over my design studies at the firm and then get back to it after. And the kids will understand if I don’t see them this weekend. My exhibition also isn’t in 3 months so I have time to get back to my pieces.”

“___, I don’t mean to rest for just this week,” he responds. “You’re gonna have to rethink all the work that you’re doing because it’s too much for you, and this isn’t me telling you what you can or can’t do. Your heart is functioning normally, but it’s still relatively weak, weaker than a normal one’s. Sure, there are things you can do now that you couldn’t before but being perpetually stressed isn’t one of them, okay? And I feel that as long as you’re doing all those things at the same time, you’ll always be at risk.”

“So you’re telling me that I have to let one of those go?” You look up at him, feeling heartbroken that you’re gonna have to give up one of the things that’s been giving you so much joy.

“It’s more practical than cutting off your time in all those. It’s still work, ___. As long as you’re doing all of them, you’re gonna keep spending time on them, and you won’t even notice it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right. You do so much on a normal day; work doesn’t end even on the weekends. It just doesn’t feel that way because you get to do it at home and you manage your own schedule and you genuinely enjoy it, but you have been feeling the exhaustion all over your body. You know there’s more to lose if you don’t follow his orders.

“Okay then. The next exhibition will be my last for a while,” you announce, deciding right then.

“Are you sure, babe?” Jungkook asks, surprised. He thought for sure that that would be the last thing you’ll let go. “Don’t you have invitations in Paris and Mexico?”

“I can pass,” you smile faintly. “I’ve still got commissions that I’ll spread out. I’m sure the patrons will understand. There’s this big project at the firm that I’m so excited to do and I can’t abandon my team. And the kids…” you sigh, “I love them too much. They take my stress away so I can’t let go of the art classes that I teach.”

“But you’ve been waiting for the shows, too,” Jungkook reminds you. “Those are huge and not easy to get invited to.”

“I know but there’s gonna be another time,” you say. “And if there isn’t, then that’s fine. I can always paint, Kook, even when I’m gray and old. But all the other things? I can still manage them. I wanna help my team, I wanna teach the kids… those things matter more.”

Other people always matter more, Jungkook tells himself. Your art is what you’ve loved your whole life, he knows that much.

“It’s really up to you, but it’s good that you’ve thought about it already,” Dr. Kwon says. “You just really need to stabilize your heart for now. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“I will,” you smile at him. “And uh, I just want to ask. This won’t affect any future pregnancies, right?”

You nibble your lips, and Jungkook can see the nervousness in your eyes.

“Not unless it’s immediate. Are you both—”

“No,” you interject. “I mean, if it happens then it does but we aren’t really… uh,” you turn to your husband, knowing that despite the last conversation you had about this months ago, you’re still unsure of how comfortable or open he is talking about this. “We haven’t planned everything out yet. But I just wanted to make sure that this whole… overworking heart thing isn’t going to risk me and our future baby. I don’t… I don’t know how I’ll handle a complication.”

“Your condition will always be a factor but you’re not in any more risk than you were before this incident,” Dr. Kwon assures you. “You don’t have to give up everything. But just always consult and make sure you rest. That's really all I can tell you.”

“I’d give it all up when I’m pregnant if I need to,” you giggle, missing the way Jungkook’s gaze saddens at your words.

Clearly that desire hasn’t waned, and the worry on your face at the thought of what this scare could mean to your future family - one that he’s still not able to give you - says a lot. But that scares him, too. Would you be open about your struggles once you’re pregnant unlike what you’re being now? Would you be honest and open? Would you let him carry your burden with you?

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Dr. Kwon announces, handing you the prescription of your new medication. “I’ll see you again in 2 months for your regular check-up.”

You bid your goodbye and head out, taking Jungkook’s hand as you walk to pay the bills. He doesn’t say much, merely humming to your musings the whole time - when you head to the car, on the way home, and when he decides to take an afternoon nap.

That night, after you both had food delivered for dinner and have washed up, you wait for him in bed as he sends emails to his staff. You kiss him goodnight and turn your back towards him, ready for his tight hug and his nuzzle on your neck. But he doesn’t.

He merely gently lays his hand on your hip and doesn’t pull you close. He doesn’t kiss your shoulders nor tell you he loves you or that he’ll see you in his dreams like he always does.

There’s silence where there shouldn’t be, and you slowly fall asleep to drown out the worried thoughts in your head. Maybe he’s just tired, you reason to yourself. Maybe he’s still processing what just happened. Either way, it’s just tonight, and you know your husband - he’d never been able to resist you. And you let that comfort you. Tomorrow, things will be back to normal. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up and fall asleep in his arms again.

The mid-morning sun peeking through the blinds provides you with much needed warmth that you’d missed last night. There was no arm wrapped around you, no hot breath on your neck or soft lips on your skin. It felt cold, even with the blanket covering your body, and you have half a mind to go to Jungkook’s office for that morning kiss that you didn’t get and which usually wakes you a little everyday.

But to your surprise, you hear his voice, deep and low as he gives instructions to whoever it is he’s speaking to. You get off the bed and find him in his office nook, in an online meeting with his team. As it looks, he probably decided on working from home to look after you.

You know that he has to iron out details of the new project and delegate tasks to his team. Those from the Busan and Daegu offices have to be briefed, too, and you can just imagine how much is on his plate yet he’s home because of you. Sighing, you turn around to head to the bathroom when his voice stops you.

“___? Everything okay?”

You look at him and see that he’s turned off his video, his questioning eyes greeting you.

“Yeah, just feeling a bit bad that you have to be home when you should be out there with your team,” you share. There’s a small, selfish part of you that’s glad that you get to spend time with him, though it’s not something that you say.

Jungkook shrugs. “We can manage. Are you feeling better? No pain or anything?”

“Better, yes. And no, no pain,” you reply. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah,” he responds. “I asked Mrs. Na to stay over for the next few days since I’ll be working from home and I won’t be able to cook for you. She’s downstairs so just tell her what you want.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll go there, then,” you say dryly. You wish he could join you but then again, he’s working from home; he’s not on a break or anything.

“Just call me if you start to feel anything different.”

You nod and quickly wash up before heading to the kitchen for breakfast, chatting with Mrs. Na. It’s been a while since you’ve caught up with her, the woman who looked after you growing up.

That whole morning, Jungkook heads downstairs twice only, both times to grab coffee and ask you if you’re feeling okay. You are, and much as you want to tell him not to worry, you want him to seek you out. It seems as if that’s the only time he’s interested in speaking to you, anyway. He’s worked from home a few times and just like when he pulls all-nighters, he’d always insisted on having you close by.

Not today, though. Ironically, it seems as if he’s home to keep you at a distance. That night, he sleeps late, and so do you. You wait for him to come to bed, ready for even his slightest touch to assure you that he’s here. He does come to bed at 2AM, but the touch doesn’t come. You take a peak over your shoulder and there he is, on his side of the bed, with his back turned against you.

Jungkook insists on seeing your families that weekend - Saturday with yours and Sunday with his. Being out of the house to feel the fresh air seems quite the experience. You’ve only been cooped up in your house for a few days but you already feel like suffocating, even more with your husband’s passiveness towards you.

Just as he continued to work at home, so did his minimal conversations with you and absence of affection. He’s kissed your hand a few times and it was only because you were cupping his cheek, but he doesn’t do more, doesn’t say more. You’ve come to expect nothing from him, if you’re being honest.

You watch from the kitchen of Junghyun’s home as Jungkook speaks to Yeri, massaging his temples, and your sister-in-law, a doctor, seems to be instructing him on what to do and what to take, scribbling something on a pad and giving it to him.

You reckon that his headache hasn’t gone away, but you wouldn’t know how painful it is because there’s nothing about him now that he’s sharing. He used to pout at you to tend to a small paper cut but somehow, he just can’t bring himself to tell you how he’s feeling and where it hurts.

“You holding up okay?” Junghyun interrupts your thoughts.

“For the most part, yeah,” you respond, glancing at your husband again who’s now laid his head on the couch, his eyes closed shut.

“And the other part?” Junghyun cocks an eyebrow.

“Just worried about how stressed Jungkook is,” you sigh. “I wish he’ll give himself time to rest. He barely sleeps. I… I don’t feel him close, especially at night.”

“Well, the project is at its planning stages and he’s managing all the teams from home,” the older man explains. “And then there’s you.”

“Me, the burden,” you sigh, hating the thought.

The older man is familiar with your musings. It’s why you didn’t want people knowing about your condition; it’s why you didn’t want Jungkook to know. You always despised being someone’s baggage, and right now, Junghyun thinks it’s what you feel.

“You really scared him, you know?” He nudges your shoulder to get your attention back that’s focused on your husband. “He’s experienced a car accident, getting lost in a cave, skydiving… yet he’s never been more scared than finding out that you were in the hospital. He looked even more helpless that he wasn’t there with you. And as his brother, I was afraid of how he was gonna take it. You know how he is.”

“Exactly. He worries a lot. Too much sometimes,” you agree.

“As he should, especially since you don’t. Or at least, since you don’t show it.”

With your silence, he knows he’s right.

“You were scared, too, weren’t you?” He asks this time.

You nod, fighting back the tears. “I’d forgotten how it used to hurt. I kept thinking that it was gonna subside, you know? That it was gonna go away right away but it didn’t. And I just didn’t want him to worry too much. I didn’t want him to be scared because I was. I didn’t want him to carry that with him if there was a chance that it really was nothing. I don’t like seeing him helpless, Junghyun. I don’t like seeing him feel like he’s not enough to make it not hurt.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can control, ___. You’re his weakness. There’s nothing that scares or hurts him more than your fears and your pain. That’s kind of what love is, you know?” Junghyun continues. “That’s part of being married. And when you have children, you’ll learn that it’s part of being parents, too. You can’t be the only one carrying it all. That’s what having a partner is all about. It isn’t just you. And it isn’t just about you.”

Jungkook wakes up from the nap he didn’t realize he’s taken and finds you, wrapped in his brother’s arms who seems to be whispering something in your ear as well. He can sense it’s another one of those comforting things that Junghyun’s always given you, and while Jungkook has long accepted that special friendship you share with the man you look up to, it doesn’t take away the small bit of envy over the fact that you trust Junghyun, that you let yourself be honest with him.

It’s an accepted fact by everyone, including Seokjin who knows that his overprotective tendencies compared to Junghyun’s calm nature have led you to open up to the latter one more.

But for Jungkook to see you get comfort from someone else who isn’t him and be hurt by it makes him feel hypocritical, especially since he’s been distancing himself from you, too. He only checks up on you just so he won’t lose his mind, but he doesn’t know anything else.

Are you scared or worried? How bored are you at home? What do you wish to do? Is there a place you want to go to? Do you miss his touch as much as he misses yours? Does it hurt you to be close to him as much as it hurts him? Do you feel angry and disappointed like he is?

Jungkook wouldn’t know. He also doesn’t know how he can love someone so much yet feel so powerless, so useless, so hurt by them. Your love always made him better, but he didn’t think it would ever let him down like this.

It’s not pure jealousy he feels when you finally pull away and smile at Junghyun. It’s a mix of emotions, really. Jungkook wants to comfort you but he feels upset. He misses you but he doesn’t want to say anything that would hurt you. He wants to be the one you run to but he can’t bring himself to be close to you. He wants you to feel his love but he doesn’t know how to show it.

You meet his eyes as you turn towards the living room, but Jungkook looks away. He busies himself on his phone and keeps to himself during dinner. He holds your hand during the car ride home when you reach for him and then lets you lay his arm on your waist when you both sleep that night, with your back against his chest while he feels you still so far away.

He doesn’t get to sleep much just like every night. He worries you’d feel pain again. Somehow he wants to be alert enough to know you’re still breathing; he needs the sound of your soft snores to assure him that you’re alive, that you’re still next to him despite his unwillingness to be close.

Is this what love is like behind closed doors? He’d been surrounded by his family and yours and only seen the happy parts of it. When it came to Jungkook’s past relationships, he broke it off after the first fight because he didn’t think it was love if it hurt or made him angry like that.

But now there’s you, and even if he feels every possible negative emotion out there, all he thinks about is just how much he loves you. All he knows is that he can’t live without you. But right now, he also can’t deny that he’s upset.

Maybe love is like this, he thinks. Once the honeymoon phase has lapsed, your differences surface, and you have to learn how to navigate it all without losing yourself and the other person, without drowning in the depths of both of your shortcomings, and then coming out the other side still intact and willing to learn and grow.

Monday comes and you wake up to the sound of keyboard typing once again. Jungkook hasn’t been going to the office despite needing to physically meet the teams who’ll be working on the project, and you hate that he feels like he has to babysit you even if you’re perfectly capable of looking after yourself. Mrs. Na is home; you don’t want Jungkook to have to give up even more than he needs to.

You don’t bring it up though, not wanting to interrupt him during his incredibly busy day, as he goes from one meeting to another. It’s the next day when you wake up to the same scene that you finally suggest going back to work.

“Hun, you can go to the office, you know?” You say sleepily as you stand by the door. “I’m sure it’ll be easier to manage everything from there. I’m fine here, I promise.”

He turns towards you as he types on his phone. “And if you aren’t, would you call me?” He looks at you pointedly. “Will you let me know this time?”

They don’t seem like rhetorical questions, but they’re not something you want to answer, given the hint of bitterness in them. Jungkook says it blankly, almost devoid of emotions that it shakes you because of how unfamiliar he sounds.

You don’t answer, and he faces his laptop to continue with his work. “I’m fine here,” he repeats your words. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

You let the next 2 days pass while slowly retreating into yourself. You’re bored out of your mind but you can’t do anything remotely productive or entertaining. Much as you can sneak in time to paint, there’s no thought or inspiration that’s pushing you to create something. The TV shows suddenly seem boring without Jungkook to talk about them with, and even your books can’t keep your attention long enough past one chapter.

It doesn’t help that you can hear your husband’s frustrated groans as he gets off a phone call or as he types away. His raised voice echoes from his small office down to the living room. You want to let him rest, relieve him in some way, or comfort him like you used to do, but you don’t think any of those would be welcome. He’s told you enough with the absence of his touch that he doesn’t want any of that.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think he wants you right now either.

Jungkook surprisingly goes to bed early that evening, and he’s tucked under the covers by the time you lay next to him after a warm bath.

“You feeling alright?” He asks with his eyes still closed, as he feels the dip on the mattress.

“Yeah,” you muster enough energy to respond.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to his side away from you again and by now, you’d be surprised if he didn’t.

You turn on your side, too, content on just imagining his soft smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he speaks to you. Those have gone away somehow, and there’s a twitch in your heart that’s not caused by overworking; it’s caused by the feeling of distance you didn’t think you’d ever feel with the man you’d promised to love your whole life.

It’s afternoon the next day when you find yourself more frustrated than anything. You wanted to go to the park and get some fresh air but Jungkook insisted on going with you, commenting once more that you may not call him if something comes up. It usually takes a lot to make you irate but his snide remarks and aversion towards you have slowly been eating you up inside.

You decided against going out, not wanting to take him away from work, especially as you’d heard him raising his voice at someone on the phone, his groans echoing throughout the loft once more.

You always loved being around Jungkook. Whether he was busy at work, frustrated over something, or being needy or clingy, he makes you feel wanted. It’s the random kiss on your cheek or his loving glance or the way he’d affectionately call you ‘baby’ or when he’s finally next to you and he doesn’t want to let you go. But right now he’s being confusing - he wants to be where you are but he somehow finds it difficult to be around you, to talk to you, to look at you, to be close to you.

“You should go for a run or head to the gym or something,” you tell him from the living room when he heads down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Why should I?”

“So you can release your frustrations elsewhere,” you turn to him, looking him straight in the eyes but he looks away. “Your desk will break if you hit it one more time. And you’ve been snapping at your staff and that’s not how you should be treating them. Just go, take a break. Work can wait. You just need to clear your mind.”

“And if I go, would you call if something happens?”

It’s that line again, but by now it’s gotten old.

“Nothing will, and if something does, I won’t be alone,” you respond. “Yeji and Nari are coming. I asked them over, so you can go spend time on your own. I know you want to, since you can’t seem to stand me. You won’t talk to me, you won’t look at me… might as well just spend a few hours away from me.”

Maybe then you’d start missing me, you don’t say.

“Fine, I’ll go when they get here.”

He doesn’t refute, he just accepts. In your mind, that’s him agreeing. A part of you hoped he’d say you’re wrong, that you’re just imagining things, or maybe explain why he’s been acting the way he has. It isn’t like him to bite his tongue and not express himself through words. He’d never had a problem doing that, you remind yourself.

It isn’t like you to let your emotions get the better of you, too, as you let a tear fall when he heads back to your room with no other words said.

He hears your friends arrive, as not long after they do, he hurries down the stairs and walks out the door, his jacket hood over his head and his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Okay, talk to us,” Nari says, as she watches the exchange between you and your husband, a rare sight indeed, as all she’s known of both of you since falling in love was that unabashed joy and affection that’s infectious and heartwarming.

Folding your knees and hugging them tightly, you pout then let the tears fall. “He hasn’t held me since we got back from the hospital,” you say. “He barely talks to me, he doesn’t look at me. He’s cold and irritable and distant, l…”

You take a deep breath and lean onto Yeri’s shoulder when she pulls you for a hug. “He’s been working at home but his presence is so intimidating and tense.”

“Maybe it’s just work,” your best friend reasons as she hugs you tighter. “Isn’t there a big project that he got approved? It might just be the pressure, you know? And what happened to you is worrisome. Maybe it’s all just piling up.”

“But he’s never been like this,” you insist, sniffing and trying to find your voice. “He doesn’t just ignore me or act like I’m not around. Even with our small arguments before, he’d never spoken to me coldly or bitterly. He’s never…” you trail, feeling the ache in your heart at the newness of this, of this feeling of being unwanted or needed. “Oh god, I feel so silly. I totally sound like a spoiled, bratty, needy wife.”

“Hey,” Nari nudges you and takes you from Yeri, wiping away your tears and urging you to stop excusing your feelings. “You aren’t being silly. If he’s making you feel that way, then he should be a grown up and tell you directly why, not ignore you and make you feel bad about it. You just went through something terrifying, ___. He should be comforting and taking care of you.”

“Do you know why he’s acting that way?” Yeri asks now. “Because I feel like I do. I mean, knowing you and him, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

It’s your tear-stained face and pouty lips that give it away that you have an idea, too, and both women know that as your best friends, they need to be on your side while also knocking some sense into you.

“Why didn’t you tell him what you’ve been experiencing?” Yeri continues. “Why did you keep it all from him?”

“I thought I could just brush them off without having to make him worry,” you finally answer after a long beat of silence. “If it was nothing, then I didn’t want to burden him with unnecessary things.”

“___, we’ve talked about this,” Nari groans, frustrated because this has always been her issue when it comes to you, how you just brush things off for fear of worrying your loved ones about your condition, without realizing that you’re making the other person feel distrusted, unworthy, powerless. It’s this unnecessary courtesy that she always felt you developed as a coping mechanism because of how overprotected you were growing up, being doted on and treated like a fragile doll who couldn’t break a sweat or be inconvenienced in any way.

“It’s hard to unlearn,” you mumble, knowing what she means. The only way you felt like your illness would stop defining you was if people didn’t know it still affected you.

“So what, you’ll just let it affect your health again like this? And now your marriage, too?” She counters. “I know you don’t want it to, so unlearn it faster. And talk to him. It’s the only way.”

You nod, knowing that some days, you just need your best friends to spell out the things you already know, because somehow it makes sense when they’re the ones telling you.

You sit in between them, anxious about how you’ll face Jungkook when he returns. You were never good at this, and during the few times you and your husband had fought, he’d been the one to initiate talking and working things out, insistent to hold onto your promise to each other of not sleeping until you’ve resolved your issues, no matter how late it already is. But now, he seems to be the one who’s letting it drag on, not wanting to address it or even acknowledge it.

Nari and Yeri help you prepare dinner, as you’d let Mrs. Na go home to attend to family matters. The stew smells amazing, but to be honest, you don’t really have the appetite for it.

They leave after cleaning up, and you’re left with your own thoughts in the quiet of the loft that’s gotten colder, lonelier the past week.

Your heart leaps out of your chest at the sound of the door opening, and you watch in pain as Jungkook merely walks past you and heads towards the stairs.

“Kook, talk to me,” you beg, voice low yet desperate. “Please. I can’t do this anymore.”

This stops him in his tracks and he turns around, his jaw clenched and his eyes unreadable.

“I can’t,” he says, turning away.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to say things I’ll regret. Because I’m angry and upset and I can’t express any of that when you can have another relapse or something.”

“I don’t care,” you exclaim. “Say whatever you want to, and say it now. Because that’s way better than you blatantly ignoring me. Your hurtful words would be better than none at all.”

“Yeah, because I’m the one who’s hurting you, right?” He says, his voice getting louder now. “I’m the one who doesn’t trust you, who’s not honest with you, who keeps secrets and shit… I’m the one who’s at fault for worrying about you being in pain and then being upset that you kept it all from me. Right? You’re the only one who’s hurting? And not me?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you huff, feeling the tears pool in your eyes again.

Jungkook decides against saying something, exhaling deeply instead and massaging his temples as he paces around the living room.

“I was in that fucking room presenting some fucking project while you were in the ER, all on your own, taking tests and just waiting to be told if your illness is back,” he says, seemingly restraining himself.

“If I could spare you the worry, I would,” you argue. “I just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t anything serious before—”

“Before calling?” He scoffs. “You’re my wife and I won’t forgive myself if anything bad happens to you! So what, you were just gonna wait there for bad news and not let me be there for you? What if it was worse and you didn’t manage to get in a cab? What if the hospital was far away and you fainted? What if something was wrong with your heart again? And then I wouldn’t have been there because you didn’t fucking call! Because I didn’t know you were experiencing all that in the first place! Because of all the things that you chose to keep from me, it was this. As if hiding it from me our entire lives wasn’t enough.”

There it is, all the what-ifs in Jungkook’s mind that he’s always been so scared of. He’s never brought himself to envision you in any sort of pain but then you were, and the intense fear of what could’ve happened swam in his mind, and there’s nothing worse than feeling powerless to protect the love of his life from all that.

“If this is about you feeling guilty that you’re not able to do anything–”

“Fuck it is! That and more!” He yells, the frustration overtaking him. “Don’t you get it? I can’t stand you in pain, and I can’t stand it when you feel like you have to bear it on your own, like you have to spare me or something. Yeah, I’m fucking terrified, but I’m still your husband. And you tell me these things,” he heaves. “I’m sorry I worry, or that I overreact or become dramatic and overly cautious, what do you expect? But you can’t hide this from me. I can’t not be your first call. That’s not fucking fair.”

“Kook, honey, I’m sorry,” you cry, trying to reach out for him but he pulls his arm away.

“Are you? You knew what you were doing, ___. You chose not to tell me the first time, and the next, and the one after that. And I had to fucking learn it from my brother again and I just…” Jungkook stops, and you look at him to see that he’s crying, the pain in his eyes so piercing that it’s probably gonna haunt you for days.

“I know you’ve always turned to him and he’s someone you can be honest with but… why can’t you trust me that way?”

“You know that’s not it,” you try to explain. You know that as much as you can reason that you only called Junghyun because Jungkook wasn’t picking up your calls, your husband would argue that you could’ve called way earlier, and he’d be right.

“Then what is it, ___?” He asks, and you realize that the most painful thing he can say is calling you by your name.

“You… you’re always the first for me,” he continues. “Whatever I’m feeling, whatever I did that day, you’re the first person I think about, the one I need to tell everything to; you’re always my first call. It’s always you because we promised each other. Through the good and the bad, it’s me and you. And keeping that promise was never hard because I want it to be you. Because I trust you. And to realize that it’s not the same with you just fucking sucks, okay?” He huffs, sounding defeated.

“What else are you not telling me? That you’re taking more art classes because being with those kids compensates for us not yet having our own because I’m fucking terrified of what that would mean for your health? I mean, how the hell can we have our own kids if you can’t even communicate with me? If you can’t even tell me what you’re feeling? If you don’t even trust that I’ll do everything to ease your pain and be there for you? How could you think that anything else is more important than you are?”

The sob that escapes you is immediate. The scene feels familiar, as the last time you’d cried this hard in front of Jungkook was years ago, in this exact spot, but this time, you know this is on you.

His words should be comforting - he loves you, and he loves hard, he loves openly, bravely, unapologetically. But all you can see is the hurt in his eyes. And all those times that you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your illness define you feels stupid and hypocritical now, because here you are, hurting the man you love because you wanted to carry the burden on your own. But as you’re learning, being someone’s partner means sharing all that with them, and trusting that you’ll pull through together.

Jungkook watches you cry and this feels familiar, too. He never really fully got to remove this very scene from years ago out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Nothing hurts him more than seeing you like this, but much as he wants to hold you in his arms, he’s afraid to find out that it wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m not really hungry,” he finally says, changing the subject because he honestly can’t bear talking some more. “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

He turns around and heads towards the hallway and closes the door, leaving you rooted on the ground to watch him walk away.

There’s a different kind of pain that’s filling your entire body. The one caused by your illness is purely physical, as if you could feel it only the very structure of your organ - it’s straightforward and familiar, something that medication and a few breaths could relieve.

But the one you’re feeling now is different - you feel it all over. There’s a ringing in your head of all the things that Jungkook had said. Your mind is going through all the times he’d called you first, or put you first, or followed through his promise of sharing his world and his heart and his soul with you. There’s that feeling of something missing - his fingers in between the spaces of yours, his arms around your waist, his soft lips against your own. There’s that absence of the affectionate tone of his voice and his boyish laughter, and it’s like without those, you can’t hear anything at all.

The past week has felt like a month of being without him, or at least, being without his comfort and security. It’s like being stripped off of your basic necessities - everything is hard without him, everything is worthless and unhappy and incomplete without him.

Is this what it feels like when you carry everything on your own? When you restrain yourself from sharing your fears and your burdens and your pain with someone else? Because sharing the joy - the good things - doubles it; and now you know that sharing the bad things increases it, too.

You sigh and wipe your tears, thinking of how much more you need to learn about love and marriage and being someone’s lifelong partner. Your grandmother once said you’re so full of love, and you wonder how you could’ve possibly failed at giving it to the person you love the most.

Knees bent against your chest, you hug yourself for that warmth you need, but you aren’t enough for it, as you should know by now. On the other side of the door in the hallway is the person you need, the person you want, the person you love, and there’s no way that you’re going to let him sleep all alone tonight.

Mustering up the courage, you get on your feet and stand outside the room. You want to keep a promise this time, about not sleeping until you’ve both resolved the issue, or at least made up somehow. You don’t want him to go through even just one night thinking that you don’t care enough to face him, to be uncomfortable, to be accountable, because you are. And you want him to know that.

The door creaks open and you find Jungkook in bed, lying on his back with one arm over his eyes. It’s already been half an hour and you’d be surprised if he’s still crying. But you don’t miss his clenched jaw and fist, the frustration clearly still evident.

You walk towards the other side of the bed and slowly position yourself - close enough for the distance not to feel too much, but far enough for him to still pull away.

You reach out for his hand and he flinches a little, but when you uncurl his fingers so you can caress them, he lets you. The sight of your name tattooed on his finger makes you cry again.

He doesn’t like playing soccer or hitting the gym with his ring on, but he doesn’t want - “even for a second,” he’d said - for there to be no trace of your marriage on him. “Seeing it makes me smile,” he’d told you. “I got to marry the prettiest woman on earth and I know when what I do is over, she’ll be there waiting for me.”

Jungkook has always put you first, in every sense possible. Junghyun told you once that his brother has always sought a high from being reckless, from doing what he wanted, when he wanted, but he’s never wanted to do anything right as much as when it comes to loving you.

“I don’t have an excuse for how I handled things, and I handled them pretty terribly,” you start, your voice shaking. “I never got to outgrow that selfishness, that need to always prove to everyone that I can handle things on my own. And it’s because of that that I hurt you, Kook. It’s because of that that you’re feeling like I don’t trust you, that you’re not my first call. And I’m so, so sorry.”

His lips quiver, and he nibbles them to keep himself from sobbing again.

“I’ve needed help and assistance for more than half of my life and that feeling of weakness frustrates me; it makes me uncomfortable because I don’t like burdening others. And you’re right, I’ve been unfair to you; I’ve been unfair to us. It’s this fear of disappointing you, of seeing you scared that makes me think that you don’t need to know trivial things like that and I was wrong. I’m so wrong, Kook,” you continue.

“Because all I’ve wanted this past week was to be with you and tell you I’m scared, that I miss you, that I wish you could comfort me, that I’m so bored and that I want to go out but I want to go out with you. I wanna tell you that my students sent a video, hoping that I’m feeling better and that they’ll be waiting for me. I wanna tell you that I learned how to make egg noodles, and that I’m craving pork soup. I wanna tell you that the medication and rest are working because the chest pains are gone but the palpitations are few and far in between now.”

Wiping your tears, you see that Jungkook is pressing his arm harder on his eyes, and the way he heaves tells you that he’s crying just as much as you are.

“You’ve always tried to understand me and give me my space,” you say. “You’re patient when I don’t open up right away. You make sure to make things easy for me, that I always feel protected and loved and I don’t ever want to take that for granted, Kook. I want to be better; I’ll do better. I’ll love you much better. I just—”

Dark, glassy eyes that are looking at you cut you off, and you see the sadness in them, the care and affection and apology and forgiveness. And somehow, this makes you cry even more.

Jungkook gently nudges your hand that’s still holding his, and it’s your cue to throw yourself next to his side, your arms immediately wrapping around his torso. He’s warm and safe like you remember, even more when he tightens his hold after you cry harder, with your head laid on his chest.

You can hear his breathing and his occasional sniffles. You try to inhale his scent with your stuffy nose, but even if you barely can, you know he smells like comfort, and like always, he smells like home.

“I don’t like it when you cry,” he says softly after a while. “Doesn’t crying make you palpitate or something?”

“A little,” you respond, peeking up at him. His eyes are drier now, but they’re focused on the ceiling. “It was faster earlier but it’s slowed down now.”

“I’m sorry,” he turns to you. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say those things the way I did.”

“Don’t be,” you respond, wiping your tears. “I had to hear them, and I don’t blame you for how they came out, either.”

“I… I don’t think I’m angry anymore but I’m still upset,” he says softly, apologetically. “I wish I wasn’t but I just…” he trails.

“It’s okay,” you look at him and smile. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. Take your time. I’ll just be in our room.”

“Okay,” he mumbles.

He kisses your forehead, and the feel of it is all you really need to assure you.

It’s not ideal. You wish you could sleep next to him, maybe talk about how the past week has been or apologize some more. You don’t want to focus on the fact that this would be the first time that you’d sleep separately. It happens, you tell yourself. You’d rather that he’s honest with you like this, something you couldn’t be to him and you owe him his own space and time.

You kiss his cheek and get off the bed. “I’ll leave the stew in the oven in case you get hungry. Good night, Kook,” you say, and head out the door.

You settle for fruits for dinner, barely having an appetite as well. You take a long, hot bath and think of all you’ve done, where you went wrong, and what you can do after all this. You meant what you said that you’re going to be better. You always knew you were lacking in many things; you’ve been told that communication isn’t your strongest suit. But you can’t let the doubts creep in because you know Jungkook, and you know you. The last thing you’ll ever doubt is how much you love each other.

Maybe love is like this, you think to yourself. It hurts because it matters, and people fight because there’s something to fight for but it’s the kind of fight where nobody loses. You and Jungkook are different people and maybe that’s why it works the way it does, but it also doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t constantly work hard to meet each other in the middle. He does, and you will, even harder than before. Being loved by Jungkook is a gift, and being able to love him is a privilege.

You think about this even more as you lay in bed. It’s colder without him next to you; it feels empty. But you can sleep well knowing he’s taking his own time just downstairs, hopefully missing you, too.

He asked you to trust him. You always thought that was easy and that it just meant being faithful, that he wouldn’t hurt you. You realize now it’s more than that; that despite the fights and the fears and the tears, it’s trusting that you’re both going to be okay.

You fill your mind with Jungkook’s smile, knowing that maybe in a few days, you’ll be blessed with that sight again. You don’t know how many scenes and memories you’ve gone through when you feel a dip on the mattress next to you and Jungkook’s arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close to him. He nuzzles your neck like he always would, and though he doesn’t say or do anything else, you know that this is his way of telling you that he trusts you, too. That he trusts both of you.

Maybe love is like this - it's when you hold each other the tightest after a fight; it’s when you pull the other close even if neither of you wants to say anything; it’s when you’re upset but not enough to spend a night apart. Maybe it’s when you can be honest about being mad but not doubting the other person’s devotion.

Jungkook’s warm breath against your skin eases your mind and your heart, and you know that whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll wake up with him next to you. It’s been a tough week and a hard night but you think that maybe, this is when you learn to love each other even more.

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jayteacups · 1 year

Text

Remedy

Struggling to keep up with your university workload, you fall sick, much to your dismay. Your boyfriend takes care of you, but Levi's spent too much of his life watching a loved-one struggle with illness, and can't help the rising fear within him when looking after you.

Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader

Tags and warnings: SFW, University AU, sickfic (Reader is ill), established relationship, some hurt/comfort. (EDIT: in one line, Reader’s hair texture is implied to be straight or wavy.)

Word count: 2.0k

A/N: I wrote this a few days ago when I first fell ill, and my symptoms have changed a little since then, but I digress. Reader’s got one hell of a sore throat and all round feels kinda bleugh (since then my sore throat has turned into a cough and my energy levels have NOT improved fml). This is your regularly scheduled reminder to get some rest, drink water and eat properly so you don’t end up like me or Reader here lol

The shifting of the mattress underneath you interrupts your slumber, and a small whine of discontent escapes you. You feel oddly disoriented, a film of exhaustion clinging to your eyes.

“Sorry,” you hear your boyfriend whisper quietly from behind you, as he readjusts the cover over your shoulder and slips an arm around your waist. “Go back to sleep.” Nimble fingers slip through your hair softly.

“Mm. Okay,” you rasp, burying your face into the pillow, sighing at the welcome contact of Levi’s chest pressing up against your back. You’d spent the entire day slaving away at the library, desperately trying to force your overworked brain to focus and catch up on uni work, and his touch was sorely missed, and—“wait…”

He kisses the back of your head. “What?”

You just about manage to force your eyes open, focusing on the lamp on the bedside table. You’re in your room, judging by the random paraphernalia placed atop it. Levi’s room, to nobody’s surprise, is much less messy. “How’d I get back here? Was at the library.”

“D’you not remember?”

“… no…” Eyes drifting shut again of their own accord, you sigh drowsily.

“You must’ve been really out of it, then.” Levi sighs, holding you a little tighter to his chest. “You fell asleep at the desk, and Hange phoned me so I could come pick you up, since they needed to stay a little longer. I woke you up and you miraculously didn’t fall back asleep on the drive back, but you were practically a zombie the entire journey.”

“Oh.” His words are starting to sound a little fuzzy, but you just about understand them.

“You need to take care of yourself. I’ve never seen you this out of it.”

“I still need to catch up with work; I’m so behind,” you protest, cut off by a yawn. If you’d been more awake in the moment, hot shame would be running through your veins at just how bad of a student you’d become. You’d always been on top of things, and you’re still not sure how you’d fallen so far behind on lectures, assignments, everything. Struggling to wake up on time, struggling to drag yourself to classes, struggling to care at all; only until you’re hit with the sudden realisation that if you continued, you’d be so far behind it’ll be impossible to even consider catching up to your peers. Hence—the last few days of panicked overworking. But even then, you still can’t work as efficiently as you once could, and it just feels like the more you work, the larger the list of tasks to complete…

You’re too tired to care about it now, though. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

“Wake me up early.” Your tongue feels too heavy to formulate the words properly, but you hope he understands.

Levi clicks his tongue—of course he understands. “Not a chance. You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep at it like this.”

You’re deeply asleep by the time he finishes the final word.

———

You wake up to a dry throat and golden light trickling through your curtains.

Sluggishly, you roll over. The other side of the small mattress where Levi had been is now empty and cold.

Groaning, you wonder why all your limbs feel heavier than concrete blocks. Even your eyes are struggling to open, more so than last night. Feeling an unpleasant, dull ache in your throat, you swallow to get rid of the dryness in your mouth.

Shit. Your throat hurts.

I cannot be ill. Not now.

Against your body’s wishes, you open your eyes (the sun is definitely way into the sky, judging by the light seeping through the curtain gaps), lift an aching arm and turn the alarm clock to face you, bleary-eyed and blinking slowly at the time displayed. Confirming your suspicions, the clock tells you that it is quite late in the morning… much later than you’d hoped to… wake…

When you next come to, you want nothing to bury yourself so deeply into the covers that you fuse with the quilt permanently. A warm hand rests gently on your forehead, taking your temperature.

You call out Levi’s name—or at least, you think you did, but for all you know it could’ve come out as an incoherent mumble instead. Throat feeling worse than before, you can’t help but grimace. Levi’s hand moves away from your forehead, coming to cup your face tenderly instead. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek.

“Are you awake?” He ventures.

You open your eyes again, and squint up at him. He’s perched on the side of the bed, his hair falling over his eyes.

“I think I’m awake now.”

He looks down at his lap for a moment. “You look like crap.”

“Yeah. I don’t feel all too sunny, either.” You grouse, lifting a hand to rub at your face.

“That’s what I thought.” Something clenches in his jaw momentarily, before it smooths out. “Feel like drinking anything?”

It is only then you finally register the fragrance of a hot drink. “You didn’t,” you say hoarsely, turning your head to the side. A cup of steaming hot tea sits atop the bedside table. Dragging yourself up into a sitting position with a supportive hand on your shoulder from him, you say, “you’re too good to me, baby, thank you.”

Bashfully avoiding eye contact, Levi squeezes your shoulder before removing his hand. “Your voice sounded a little rough last night, too. At least you don’t have a fever, but… just drink up.”

Beaming at him, you comply. It tastes bright and sweet, just the way you like it—no, sweeter. He’d put a spoonful of honey in it to soothe your throat.

As you slowly sip your tea in bed, Levi disappears, likely to continue with household chores around the flat—chores that you should be doing today, since you and your flatmates created a rota. Currently, two are out of town and one’s been staying over at her boyfriend’s place more and more, so the entire accommodation is yours for now.

Tamping down on the guilt flaring up inside you, you set the empty teacup aside and lumber over to the bathroom, wincing at all the little aches and pains that comes with moving around in this state.

Freshening up takes far more effort than it should, forcing you to shamefully trudge back into your bedroom once you’re done. Flopping on your bed face-first, you moan.

“Hey,” Levi says from your doorway. “I emailed your professors. They’ll send you the material, and if you want, I can go to your lectures and take notes too.”

“You’re a godsend,” you groan from the bed. “No need to go to my classes for me, though. The digital handout will be just fine.”

He sighs. “Okay. Do you want to eat something too? It’s past noon.”

“No thanks, I’m not feeling hungry.” You sigh, clenching the sheets in trembling fists. The hot searing shame from the last few days has returned. You’re so fucking incompetent. “Please, don’t do my chores. It’s okay. I’ll do ‘em later, yeah?”

“I don’t mind doing them.” Levi’s footsteps approach the bed before you feel a dip in the mattress. He smells like antiseptic, the scent sharp and invading your nostrils. “Cleaning is therapeutic for me.”

The guilt comes creeping back in. No wonder he’s also been looking stressed every time you see him—he’s worried beyond grief for you. You don’t know the full details, but you know that his mother has ongoing health issues ever since his childhood, and that there had been a number of close calls and scares. Therefore, it’s not a surprise to you that he’s always been extra anxious about illnesses, mild or severe, or that he takes to intense cleaning sprees whenever somebody in his life falls ill.

You turn your head and crane your neck - he’s wearing a surgical mask over his lower face. “I’m sorry for making you worry,” the words slip from your mouth before you can think. “I promise it’s not that bad, I’m just a weakling… I’ll feel better soon, I swear.” you chuckle half-heartedly, frustrated beyond belief and trying to make the mood light-hearted to distract both of you, but judging by his furrowed brows, Levi doesn’t find any of this amusing. Neither do you, though. There’s absolutely nothing amusing about being such a shitty, undeserving student and girlfriend who fell ill due to her own fault and forced her boyfriend to put everything on hold to look after her.

He shakes his head instead, eyes darkening with sorrow. “Don’t promise me. Just do it. Just… get better soon.”

Wincing, you roll over so that you are now flat on your back and looking up at him properly. “It’s probably just fresher’s flu or something similar, nothing I won’t get over…” Your voice wobbles. “I’m sorry all the same, but please, don’t worry.”

Stormy eyes flutter shut for a moment. His next words sound heartbreakingly strained. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry or that I shouldn’t worry, damn it, you just have to get better, alright?” He swallows, and then moves to get up. Quieter, he adds, “let me know if there’s anything you need from me to help you do that, i-if there is anything I could do at all.”

Tears prick at your eyes. Damn it all—you weren’t feeling emotional at all ten minutes ago. Yet all the shame at your own shortcomings, the exhaustion from what little you did today, and worry for Levi’s sake come bubbling to the surface. The tears leak, and run across your temple and into the pillowcase. Sniffling, you wipe roughly at your face with one hand, and lurch out with the other to grab at his hand.

“Just stay, please.”

He freezes.

Time ticks by slower than a snail’s pace.

His hand closes around yours. Moisture gathers at his lash line, but he refuses to let them fall.

“I’ll stay.”

You smile weakly, shuffling to make room for him on your tiny bed. Cautiously, Levi sits on the edge, noting your wincing.

“You’re in pain,” he observes. “I can get paracetamol.”

“Just a little achey all over,” you sigh. “I’ll take a tablet or two in a minute, yeah? Just… be here with me. Please.”

He tilts his head. “I have an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Get on your front. I’ll give you a massage.”

You comply, but not without taking his hand and squeezing it first. “Like I said,” you say as you shuck off your sleep shirt and get yourself in position, “you’re too good to me. I’m going to be just fine, because you’re here, okay?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be like that. It was never about me and I shouldn’t have made it so. You shouldn’t be worrying about me. Just relax and enjoy the massage now.”

“But I can’t help but worry—oh.” Levi’s hands grip your shoulders, rubbing firmly, but not painfully. “Oh. Yeah, keep going.” Burying your face in the pillow, you let your eyes flutter shut. In another context, there would be something undeniably erotic about this entire situation, but now? You just want to bask in his comfort.

“Tired?” Levi asks as your sounds of relief and words of encouragement fall sparser and sparser until the room is filled with nothing but silence.

“Mm hm.” You smile drowsily. “I’m good, though, thank you baby.”

“Get some sleep, then,” he says, as you readjust your arms that were resting underneath the pillow. “You deserve some rest. It’ll help you later with work. Okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, unable to open your eyes all of a sudden. There’s still so much the two of you need to discuss later: his anxieties when it comes to illnesses, your insecurities and struggles when it comes to university life. But, you think, being lulled gently by a wave of sleep, that can be discussed later.

Right as you dangle on the precipice of sleep, another question escapes unbidden. “Can I get a kiss?”

You hear something akin to a chuckle above you. “No. Get better first, and then I’ll consider it, love.”

“It’s a deal,” you mumble, and your consciousness fades to the best sleep you’ve gotten in a long, long time.

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi x mc #levi ackerman x mc #levi fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi x oc #levi ackerman x oc #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #reader insert

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