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In the middle of the night, a familiar voice and a gentle shake tries to wake Do-il up.
It is the whisper of his girlfriend, Do-il can tell as he becames more conscious, although he can't exactly make out what she is saying.
He slowly opens his eyes and feels burning heat, as if someone has started a fire under their bed to cook him.
"Do-il, wake up. You have a fever. You should sit up and take this medicine."
A hand helps him sit upright. He can feel his head spinning, his limbs numb, and it is unbearably hot.
"Here, take it" the same hand grapes his shoulder and helps him take the medicine. Do-il leans his head on her delicate shoulder and closes his eyes to feel less dizzy.
Moments later, Do-il notices that he is lying on the bed again, and there's a cool cloth on his forehead that is being changed occasionally, while the same hand is gently caressing his hair in the most soothing way possible.
When the rays of the sun at seven a.m. passes through the window and illuminates the whole room, Do-il's eyes flutteres slightly, and he opens them slowly. He blinks several times at the same pace. His girlfriend isn't t lying by his side, which makes him get up and sit. His eyes quickly scan their room. After failing to find her, Do-il pushes aside the layers of sheets and lets his feet touch the floor. He feels light as he walks.
It doesn't take long to find his girlfriend. He watches her from the doorway. She is in their kitchen, making something on the gas stove.
Do-il closes the distance, aware that his sickness might be contagious. But he can’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head in the crook of her neck.
"Good morning" says In-joo, after letting out a small gasp. She turns around her head as much as it is possible. Even with closed eyes, Do-il can tell she is smiling.
"Good morning" In-joo can barley hear him. His sicky voice is little more than a murmur.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better" says Do-il as he nuzzles his head. Once again, he clearly see her grin widen.
In-joo turns around slightly to face him. She places her hand on his forehead to check his temperature.
"Good, fever is almost gone. Take a seat, the soup is ready" says In-joo as she lowers her hand and cups his face.
Do-il doesn’t say anything. He just ogles at her. His grip is still firm. It caresses him. It caresses his soul—that there is someone who take care of him like this.
Eventually, Do-il looseness his grip and sit behind the counter. In-joo puts a cup of soup in front of him, and she takes a seat beside him as she places her own bowl on the table.
The taste of the soup is perfect, which isn't a surprise; after all, It is cooked by In-joo.
The sunlight that kisses the living room, the smell of soup that permeates the kitchen, the taste of the soup, the sound of the electric kettle, his neatly folded newspaper on the table, and eating breakfast with his beloved—all of it, Do-il thinks to himself, is transformed by her. His little storm always turns ordinary flow of the air to romantic. Her presence makes everything romantic.
One day ago
"Let's buy it from our local supermarket"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's ok" says In-joo. She and Do-il continue walking to their house.
It is a sunny day, But it isn’t until some gray clouds decide to join together and block the sunlight.
"I think it's going to rain" Do-il says, and before any drop attacks them, he takes off his bomber jacket, and shelters both of them from raindrops. Few seconds later, coarse droplets hit the ground.
In-joo circles her hands around Do-il's waist, and under his jacket, they walk side by side to their house.
"Dear God, Do-il, you should change your clothes immediately" In-joo says with concern as they enter their house.
It seems that while they were walking in the rain, Do-il had held most of the jacket over In-joo's head, and his right shoulder was completely soaked from the raindrops, it makes his wet sleeve stick to his muscular arm.
"Okay, I'll change."
"I'll make a tea to keep you warm."
Outside their house, the sound of thunder can be heard. In-joo is filling the kettle with water when she hears Do-il's first sneeze from their bedroom.