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the-ghostbebe · 6 months

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I'll Take Care of You | Son Hyunwoo

Paring: Son Hyunwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of vomiting, sick!reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Hyunwoo couldn’t see himself leaving for work knowing his girlfriend was sick.

Masterlist

It was roughly 5:30 in the morning – approximately three hours from when he had to greet the rising sun a good morning - when he heard it. A slight cough that rolled into an ugly set of coughing fits. It merely startled him awake, causing him to jolt awake and glance towards his left, where he saw his girlfriend sit up in panic. Not a moment later were the covers thrown off her body, and out the door, she ran without much of a word.

Hyunwoo’s heart pounded at the sight, instinctively launching him from the bed. He quickly slipped into his slippers and ran after her, the cool apartment air biting at his bare chest. He found her in the bathroom, hunched over the sink, water splattering around her as she ran it, hoping to calm down. She looked up at him, dark circles prominent under her ghostly pale face.

She was sick.

He had noticed her sniffles and occasional bouts of coughing the few days prior, but he didn’t think they would escalate to such a state. His work plans immediately went out the window. There was no question about it; Hyunwoo had made his choice. He was going to stay home to take care of her.

His day began with brewing a cup of warm chamomile tea for her, garnishing the honeyed liquid with a sprig of mint and a slice of lemon. He brought it to her, slowly easing her onto the couch with a gentle hand supporting her back. She was weak, her body wobbling slightly under his touch. He pulled a blanket around her to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Taking care of her meant more than just making tea. He monitored her temperature, doling out medicine when necessary. He made nourishing soups loaded with vegetables and proteins from recipes he remembered his grandmother making him as a child when he fell ill. His lounge became a temporary infirmary, with tissues, throat lozenges, and a humidifier setting up the environment.

Seeing her under such distress caused a gnawing anxiety within him. But he masked it from her, providing an unwavering presence of comfort, support, and care. It was a tiring day, the shadows under his eyes clear evidence. But Hyunwoo was resilient. After all, the woman he loved needed him, and he was right where he needed to be.

He glanced at her once more than the time.

8:25 a.m.

He sighed softly to himself to know what was meant to be done. A quick glance at his lover showed her struggling to keep her eyes open. A few coughs laced with exhaustion broke through the quiet room. Her hand weakly reached up to cover her mouth, but her energy was evidently draining. Her skin was as pale as the sheets she was wrapped up in, and her dark hair stuck onto her forehead from perspiration.

Despite the disheartening sight, Hyunwoo composed himself, keeping his worry concealed so as not to worry her further. He gently brushed the damp hair off her face, his touch soft to not startle her weakened state. A small whimper escaped her as she curled further under the comfortable warmth of the blanket, stirring a heavy feeling within him.

He decided it was now the right time to break away momentarily to handle the other part of his life. He gently got up from his position, delicately pulling his hand from under hers to avoid any unnecessary disturbance.

He stepped out of the room, pulling his phone from his pocket with slightly trembling hands. As he scrolled to Kihyun’s number, he took a deep breath. He hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button.

The line connected, and Kihyun’s alert voice echoed, “Hyunwoo?”

“I won’t be able to make it to practice today,” Hyunwoo confessed immediately, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a pause on the other end as Hyunwoo’s words sank in.

“What? Are you okay?” Kihyun’s alertness was instantly replaced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hyunwoo reassured him. “But… she’s sick. Really sick. I… I need to stay with her.”

A longer silence followed this before Kihyun replied. “Oh… yeah, of course. We can manage here. Make sure she’s okay, alright?”

Hyunwoo nodded, though he knew Kihyun couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I will. Thank you, Kihyun.”

He ended the call but didn’t move for a minute, taking in the weight of the situation once more. His heart was heavy, but it was also filled with determination. He stepped back into the room with renewed resolve, ready to face whatever was to come.

Making his way back into the living room, Hyunwoo immediately noticed the lack of her presence. A chilling silence hung in the air, a stark contrast to the soft whimpering he left to. Filled with anxiety, his heart pounded as he rushed through the living area into the bathroom, the one place she could be.

The sight that greeted him was a heart-wrenching one. Kneeling beside the toilet, she was shaking violently, vulnerable, and trying to muffle her sobs. A feeling of helplessness washed over him, but he quickly pushed it away.

He moved forward as gently as he could to comfort her, but she threw a weak hand up to stop him.

“No… don’t,” she whispered hoarsely, “I don’t… want you to see me like this.” Her voice was barely audible, but the words still struck him like a physical blow.

Hyunwoo couldn’t help but worry. She might want him to stay away, but he couldn’t leave her in such a state. Ignoring her weak protests, he dashed into the kitchen, his heart pounding louder with each step. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, he quickly filled it with water and hurried back. He skidded to a stop by the bathroom door once again, the water sloshing slightly over the rim.

“Y/N…” Hyunwoo sighed, moving closer to her. Kneeling beside her, he moved her hair out of her way, ignoring her words in favor of being there for her.

Not caring about the drops staining his sweats, he comforted her with soothing words and gentle strokes on her back as the convulsing of her body began to subside. Her suffering was a sight that pained him immeasurably. His heart ached within him, torn between fulfilling her wish for privacy and the urgent need to care for her. Although she had protested, he understood that, at this moment, his comforting and stable presence was necessary.

Gently, he took hold of her hair, pulling it back from her face as another wave of nausea hit her. She leaned forward over the toilet, her body convulsing with her dry heaves. He could feel every tremor, every shake of her body, as he held her steady, providing the support she was too stubborn to ask for.

As she finally slumped back, drained of all energy, Hyunwoo handed her a glass of water he had brought, helping her rinse her mouth. His other hand reached for a damp cloth, dabbing it gently against her sweat-drenched forehead. Despite her protests, he never wavered, his actions proving his unwavering support.

Seeing her in this vulnerable state was hurtful, but he was there for her, showing his care quietly, hoping it would provide her some comfort. His touch was gentle, his voice soothing, as he whispered encouraging words, stroking her back in a rhythmic motion, all in a bid to ease her discomfort.

As the morning light filtered in through the window, casting a warm glow over the dismal scene, Hyunwoo felt a sense of determination. Seeing her like this only made his resolve stronger. He would do everything possible to help her through this. No matter how tough things got, he would not leave her side.

Once her retching had subsided, Hyunwoo gently helped her back up, placing an arm around her for support. His other hand lightly held a glass of water. His eyes searched her own, begging her to drink.

“Here, have some water, slowly,” he said, handing the glass to her. His gaze was full of empathy; his firm voice disguised his anxiousness.

Seeing her frail body leaning heavily on him, he sighed softly and said, “Let me get you a bath. It will help you feel better.” He gently carried her to the bathroom, ensuring she was comfortable as the bath filled with warm water. “You’ll feel better once you’re clean and fresh,” he murmured reassuringly.

He cautiously held her in the bath, his steady hands careful not to upset her fragile condition. As he bathed her, their silence was filled with innocent camaraderie. His small actions brimmed with care, from the warm water to the gentle way he helped her clean. His voice broke the silence only to guide her, “Can you lift your arm a little? Good, and now your other arm.”

He continued to utter calming words to her. Hyunwoo continued to speak to her gently, his soothing cadence acting as a salve to her weakened state. Each word was a careful selection aimed to infuse her with strength and to let her know she was not alone.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he encouraged, his tone a mere whisper. As he helped her sit up, he reassured her, “Just lean on me; there’s no rush.”

His words were a balm, his sentences woven with kindness and understanding. Each reassuring phrase was designed to ease her pain and to instill her with the certainty that he was there, steadying her, supporting her. He softly praised each bit of progress, no matter how small, his encouraging words like rhythmic lullabies designed to soothe her tired soul.

Throughout it all, the calming words never ceased. They filled the room, creating an environment of tranquility amidst the chaos. His comforting murmur acted as an anchor. While his words floated around her, she drew strength from them, feeling cocooned by the warmth and care in his tone.

“You’re nearly there,” he would say, the soft timber of his voice echoing a quiet confidence that this, too, they would overcome together. “So beautiful, do you know that? A sight to be seen. I fall in love with you more every day.”

Hyunwoo smiled at her softly, brushing some hair from her face. He hated how warm her cheeks felt against his fingers. His heart felt like it was breaking while his mind tried to think of any way to have the roles reversed. She looked far too frail to him. Almost too vulnerable to him. It cut away at his already bleeding and crying heart.

“Take it slow. We have time,” he whispered gently. After the bath, he helped her out, wrapping a plush towel around her. He carefully led her to the bedroom, supporting her with a firm grip around her. “I won’t leave your side.”

Once in the bedroom, he helped her into fresh clothes, handling her with practiced ease, ensuring her comfort at every step. He brushed her hair, using gentle strokes. Her eyes met his, filled with gratitude and a glimmer of relief.

“You’re doing great,” he said as he brushed her damp hair, his voice filled with warmth. Small comforts, understanding, and a promise to stick through colored the air between them, transforming the dismal morning into a touch of warmth. His resolve only amplified. There was no going back; he was there to stay until the very end.

Hyunwoo observed her reaction. Even when she wasn’t feeling 100%, he couldn’t help but fall for her even harder. His heart raced in his chest like the first time he saw her. He was 100% smitten with her.

“Hyunwoo,” She finally spoke up, her voice hoarse, “You didn’t have to call out of work to take care of me. I… I don’t want you to miss today’s practice or whatever was planned.”

“Practice can wait,” Hyunwoo responded, gently shaking his head, his hand still threading through her hair. His tone held a soft yet unwavering firmness. “There’s no place I’d rather be than here, taking care of you.”

He soaked in the sight of her - her vulnerability in stark contrast to the usual fiery brilliance that she embodied, fueling his determination. Securing her tucked under the plush blanket, he rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry about anything,” he gently commanded, pressing a light, tender kiss to her forehead. “Just rest, okay? I’ll be right back.”

With those soothing words still lingering, he quietly exited the room and went to the kitchen. His mind busied itself with what tea flavor she’d prefer or whether she’d like noodles or rice in her soup. The kitchen, usually a place of effortless culinary exploration, transformed into a makeshift refuge where he could channel his worry into creating something comforting for her.

The click of the stove brought him back to reality as the kettle began to heat. The gentle wafting aroma of her favorite tea - chamomile with a hint of honey - filled the air, offering a further semblance of tranquility.

Next, he focused on the soup. He wanted something hearty yet easily digestible - an amalgamation of nutritious ingredients that would nurse her back to health. A chicken broth with a sprinkle of her favorite herbs and spices, he figured, should do the work.

With every chop, stir, and seasoning, his love for her permeated into the food, a secret ingredient perhaps more potent than the conventional ones. With the soup simmering on the stove and tea steeping beside it, he couldn’t help but hope that these simple gestures comforted her as much as she comforted him. He wanted to provide her the same strength she had given him multiple times. Today, he could try. Today, he would be her strength.

Hyunwoo removed the soup from the heat with a final pinch of salt and a sprinkle of fresh parsley. The aroma wafting into the chilly air gave him a sense of subtle satisfaction, hoping it could provide the warmth she needed. He poured the delicately brewed tea into her favorite mug, its usual cheerful pattern seeming to glow a little brighter today.

He made his way back to her. The path seemed longer than it actually was, the anticipation slowing time. He made his way back to her. As he softly nudged the door open, the sight of her sitting up and waiting for him made his heartbeat spike up again. Setting the tray down on the bedside table, he helped her adjust the pillows supporting her back.

“I hope this makes you feel better,” he murmured gently, dipping the spoon in the bowl to scoop up some of the warm soup. He blew gently on the spoon to cool it, the steam rising and dissipating in the air. “Here, open up,” he said, holding out the spoon.

As she savored the soup, her face seemed to relax bit by bit, offering him a slight, thankful smile. This assured him he was doing something right. He continued this process, feeding her gently, quietly cheering inside when he saw her delicate complexion gaining some warmth and color.

The warm tea was served next, her sip indicating her satisfaction. He observed her, his attentions undivided. Seeing her regain a little energy made him feel accomplished; his once broken heart once again felt whole.

A small, content sigh escaped her lips after the last spoonful of soup and a final sip of tea. She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes still possessing a hint of weariness but now with a spark of something more – a quiet request.

“Hyunwoo,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “could you stay with me? Maybe watch some TV?”

He paused, taking a moment to process her words. Despite his initial hesitation, the thought of leaving her alone seemed out of the question. So, with a slight nod and a faint smile, he gave in.

“Of course,” he replied, his tone soft yet decisive.

Moving to clear the tray, he carefully climbed beside her on the bed, ensuring he did not jostle her. As he flicked the remote on, wrapping her carefully into his arms, the channels began to blur past – none of it compared to the woman in his arms.

He hugged her close with her snuggled into his chest, her head resting over his heart. His heart thundered beneath her ear, a familiar soundtrack to their intimate moments. She changed the rhythm of his heartbeats and made them dance to the tune of their love.

He felt her relax in his hold, her breaths syncing rhythmically with his. As they lay there, wrapped in a comfortable silence, the faint sounds of the television humming in the background, he realized that he was her comfort as much as she was his.

Feeling the tiny tremors that ran through her body, he realized she was sniffling. It was a soft, almost inaudible noise, muffled against the fabric of his shirt. His subconscious mind registered the dampness on his chest where her tears must have soaked through. His fingers gently ruffled through her hair, cooing her closer into his embrace. This was the only solace he could provide: the comfort of his warmth, the refuge in his arms.

Nuzzling her face into him, she attempted to catch his familiar scent. The scent reminded her of home, of safety - a comforting aroma that always made her head spin a little. But to her dismay, her stuffy nose would only allow the faintest waft of him to pass, curtailing her desperate urge to sink into his quintessence.

For her, his scent was her anchor, her safe place amidst the tempest that life often became. The mere recognition of his aroma was enough to alleviate her worries, to calm her racing heart. And now, even that small comfort seemed just beyond her reach. His hand stroked her hair gently, his low hums and whispers offering a melody that sought to comfort her failing senses.

Bound together in this quiet moment, the underplayed drama of everyday life faded into the background. Their shared warmth attempts to dispel any chill their bodies might be holding onto.

Unseen by her, his face softens at the sight of her struggle. In that instance, he becomes even more determined to be her balm, her solace. In silent promise, he wraps her even tighter against him, a cocoon of warmth meant only for her, assuring her that regardless of the storm outside, here in his arms, she would always find her shelter.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, softly interrupting their intimate moment. He was fully aware of what she was trying to do. Her sniffles, loud despite her attempts to make them unknown, were an obvious giveaway.

“There’s nothing for you to sniff,” he gently teased her, a light giggle escaping him as he tightened his arms around her body protectively, mindful of her delicate state. This was a side of her he cherished - raw, vulnerable, yet spirited to the bone. It brings about a sense of endearing admiration in him. “I probably stink. Your stuffy nose is saving you from my nasty smell. Believe me, Minhyuk would’ve commented on it the second I stepped into the studio.”

“Give it a break, will you? I’m trying to preserve…” she started before a sneeze cut her words short. “…The essence of you,” she continued hesitantly after a brief pause, her voice barely a whisper. An admission so innocent, it instilled an honest joy in him. “Your scent is comforting to me. And I can’t smell you, so I’m going crazy.”

“You always were curious and slightly crazy,” he chuckled lightly, whispering into her hair. “But, sweetheart,” he added more seriously, “I really think you should rest. You’re not well,” he reminded her. His tone was soft, filled with concern and a gentleness that managed to soothe her despite her resistance.

Despite his valid argument, she was not one to back down easily. Sickness or not, her stubborn streak won out. “I’m alright,” she quipped stubbornly, snuggling closer into his warmth. “Rest is for the weak. And I, for one, am not weak.”

“Of course you are, my fierce little fighter,” he murmured affectionately, kissing her forehead.” His lips formed a soft smile at her tenacity. Giving in to her refusal to rest, he simply strengthened his hold on her, a silent vow to be there for her regardless of the storms brewing inside or outside. He grinned at her stubbornness, “Alright, Miss Invincible. Remember the round of trivia we played last week? Five questions, fastest answers?”

She squinted at him suspiciously, but a spark of challenge fired up in her eyes. “You’re on.”

“Great. Question one: who was the first man on the moon?”

“Neil Armstrong,” she responded quickly, her grin widening with every rapidly recalled fact.

“Who wrote ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”

“Jane Austen.” Her voice held a note of tired triumph, yet each answer was tinged with a softness that only presaged further exhaustion.

Their harmless banter slowly melted into softer whispers, her voice growing feeble with each passing minute. Round after round, she answered each query he rolled out with the tenacity of a true fighter, albeit drowsy.

Towards the end, her responses were barely above a whisper, her words slurring and sentences starting to lose their coherence. “The capital of… that’s…no, wait…” she mumbled, struggling to string her thoughts together correctly. “I know it…”

Even in her sleep-encroached state, he found her endearing. Gently hushing her, he gently carded his hand through her hair. He looked down at her fondly, whispering, “Sleep now, my warrior queen. The trivia can wait.”

Her words, turning into an unintelligible mumble, eventually faded into a deep, steady rhythm of breaths. And as her resistance gave way to sleep, he smiled, holding her closer with a renewed sense of warmth and playfulness from their quiet banter. The faint mumble of her breaths and her body cuddled close to him was a silent reminder that this was his to protect, to love, and to comfort.

Resting his chin atop her head, he whispered, “Sweet dreams, fighter.” And with that, he let the soothing rhythm of their shared warmth coax him into his own descent into calm and quiet sleep.

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