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In the middle of the night, Bok-su awoke with flashes of heat rippling across her skin. Sitting up quickly, only for her skull to drag itself back down. Down onto her dearest chest…
"Bok-su?" Da-Jeong grumbles, blinking blearily, her hands reaching in the darkness for what cat landed on her breasts. Only for the body to roll away, prompting Da-Jeong to sit up as well. Her voice is clearer now, alert because Bok-su's getting up so fast she's thinking something's wrong. Did they forget something on the curriculum? Impossible. "Bok-su," she calls out. No reply, "What are you doing?"
Bok-su could only hear her own heavy breathing, chilling yet heated shivers resounding throughout her limbs. Bok-su moves as if she's tethered beneath the foot of an elephant. Her body is incapable at the moment. Rolling away like a floundering fish dying on land, trying to roll towards the water. She doesn't meet the tide, only the floor. As her head spins, the impact dulls against her back.
The reply Da-Jeong gets is in the form of a thud that vibrates underneath her. She's fully awake now, wondering what in the hell that thump in the night was—flicking on the lamp light to see Bok-su struggling to do something as simple as stand, a lump of a body shadowed. Bok-su's vision swims, the sudden light flash-bangs her into scrunching her eyes closed, and the next moment it returns to her. Da-Jeong is on her face on the floor.
Bok-su startles back when Da-Jeong pulls her hands away from her face. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Da-Jeong would've asked, but she answered that it was the middle of the night until she saw the sweat beading off Bok-su's temple and her flushed cheeks. Bok-su takes a deep breath to steady herself, preparing her words to effectively eliminate all her concerns. Despite her brain fog, Bok-su was already mentally planning to sneak away and sleep on the sofa.
"I tripped, I'm fine," Bok-su mutters gruffly. She didn't realize her voice would sound so scratchy. Da-Jeong doesn't buy it, her brows furrowing in concern. The back of her palm touches Bok-su's forehead.
"You're burning up! Here, let me—" Da-Jeong grabbed hold of Bok-su to lug her onto the mattress, but Bok-su squirmed out of her touch. Moving to stand on her own, stubbornly. Da-Jeong lets her, but she stays by her side as she trudges like molasses into the kitchenette to get a drink of water.
"Baby, you're walking weird. Why won't you let me help you?" Da-Jeong almost whined in Bok-su's ear. Her hand was hovering underneath Bok-su's, which held a glass. Bok-su's grip is unstable and shaky. Da-Jeong gently took the glass, and that was the moment Bok-su's resolve crumbled, and just like that, she gave up trying to keep up the front. Bok-su sighs.
"Don't make that face," Da-Jeong cooed, grasping Bok-su by the face and making her meet her eye. "Look, I'll get you some medicine, you probably have like—…" She pauses, dragging the word 'like' on her tongue to the point that Bok-su rolled her eyes.
Bok-su's voice came rough, as if her larynx was against gravel. "Don't try to downplay it, please. I know I'm sick." Da-Jeong stopped then, something sparkling in her gaze. "And don't try to infantilize me; we are both grown women."
"You don't have faith in me. I love how independent you are, but," Da-Jeong smiled, "You can be so stubborn," she mused, leaning in to kiss Bok-su, only to be shoved away. Bok-su watches as she pouts, sulking as if she's the one sick.
"You can't kiss me." Bok-su's palm stays pressing against Da-Jeong's chest as if holding back a dog that's eager to lick your face. "You don't even know what I've got yet."
"Ah, such a bummer," Da-Jeong mumbles, "It's not like you have herpes," she says louder this time. Bok-su only replies with a look and 'are you twelve?''
"You can't infantilize me either!" Da-Jeong whistles before it hits her. Bok-su is about to defend herself before she speaks, thoroughly moved on, "Come, come, you'll be under nurse Choi's care tonight." Da-Jeong grins, leading Bok-su away to sit on her bed.
"I'm not doing nurse x patient tonight, I'm sick," Bok-su says whilst wiping sweat off her face. Da-Jeong made a confused sound, rummaging through their shared medicinal box, which is also in their shared pantry. Plucking out a bottle, Bok-su's grown to be familiar with. Da-Jeong is running the water to fill a cup.
"I'm not trying to do sexy med-play," Da-Jeong explains slowly, as if Bok-su didn't understand her intentions were purely out of genuine care. "Maybe I just wanna make you feel better, is that so unbelievable?"
"Sorry, maybe I shouldn't accuse you like that," Bok-su mutters, smirking to herself. Her apology was not so genuine. Maybe she knew what she was saying.
"No your fine!" She chirps. Reassuring Bok-su, who wasn't worried in the first place.
"Honestly, this could just be another one of my migraines," Bok-su states matter-of-factly. Da-Jeong snickers, and the sound is melodic to Bok-su's ears. She can't see what Da-Jeong is preparing in the kitchen, but she trusts that it will help. Not that she needed help in the first place. Of course.
Da-Jeong turns, holding two pills in her palm and a glass of… Not water, but… Tea? The glass is full of a warm liquid substance. She has half the mind to ask, but maybe Da-Jeong must've seen the confused tick in her eyes. Or maybe her migraine spiked, if she has one that is.
"Even then, you are still in treatment," Bok-su gulps down the pills dry, and Da-Jeong gives her a look but doesn't comment. What weirdo, she thought fondly. "You're still pretty hot,"
Bok-su is silent for a beat, and the two stare at each other. As if waiting for something, both of their lips were quirked to remain pursed. "I know I'm hot," and Da-Jeong throws a pillow her way, which Bok-su fails to catch, and it billows in her face.
"My affection has made you spoiled and proud." Da-Jeong makes a playful, disapproving expression as Bok-su recovers. She pulls the pillow away, and the first thing she sees is a monitor in her face, and she jumps back, nearly falling back onto the mattress. Choking on a yelp. Da-Jeong giggled at her ridiculous reaction, using Bok-su's vulnerable position to climb atop her like a centipede.
Bok-su squirms, yet it's in vain. Her arms outstretched to cover her forehead, Da-Jeong squeals. "Bok-su—! Stop resisting," She stops to pry Bok-su's arms away from her face, she looks to Da-Jeong with wide eyes. "The untouchable Su is scared of this thing?" She waves the thermometer, so that Bok-su's eyes follow it, one hand rising to cover her forehead. "Do I need to strap my patient down?"
"I can do it myself," was all Bok-su managed to say before Da-Jeong found an opening and yanked Bok-su out from underneath her, flipping her onto her side. Uttering a sorry close to her ear, her breath caressing Bok-su's earlobe before she felt the cool air fan against her forehead as Da-Jeong parts her bangs like some dense, verdant jungle with hot humidity—humidity, referring to the sweat that drenches her shiny forehead.
Bok-su felt strangely comforted by the weight against her and Da-Jeong's breasts in her face from their position. The thermometer descends, and Bok-su pushes against Da-Jeong weakly, only to slump against the mattress when she hears the beep. Da-Jeong pulls back to inspect, and she gives a long whistle.
"Yup, you've got a fever." Da-Jeong turns it around to show Bok-su as she sat up to look. 38° Celsius. Standard. Bok-su thought to herself, before she grumbled as her condition became a real concern.
"Oh, Baby," she cooed, "don't be that way." Da-Jeong sat beside her, nudging Bok-su to lean against her. She complies, too tired to resist anymore. "See this as a reason not to show up for lectures," but Bok-su didn't see a positive in that, only leaning forward to face-plant into her hands. Da-Jeong rubbed soothing circles in her back. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No," Bok-su grumbled, her tone much more annoyed than before. She doesn't look up from her hands. Her head was practically buried in the sand. Da-Jeong clears her throat.
"Then what?"
"I have a headache, and I have to draft an email to our professors about my condition, state my reasons for not showing up tomorrow in advance," Bok-su explained through her gritted teeth as she felt the dull pounding sharpen into spikes behind her eyes, like thorned vines twisting and creeping around her brain.
"I could do it," Da-Jeong offered easily without thinking. Bok-su only shot the offer down. "You could stay with me," Bok-su gave some excuse about not wanting to be in her hair, risks for illness, etcetera, "Bok-su, baby, can you look at me?" Da-Jeong pleaded, leaning her own skull against Bok-su's, who leaned away, making a pained noise.
"Shouldn't it be working by now?" Da-Jeong asked, and Bok-su nodded.
"It is, just taking a minute," Bok-su assured, but it didn't reassure Da-Jeong in the slightest. Bok-su moved to stand, but Da-Jeong made a disapproving noise once more.
"Uh uh uh not so fast!" Da-Jeong catches Bok-su by her shoulders and shoves her back down onto the bed. "You're going to let me take care of you whether you like it or not. I know you think I'm not the better nurse from us both, but I'm not as incompetent as an assistant or an intern!" Da-Jeong declares as if it's nonnegotiable, with both hands on her hips as she looms over Bok-su.
Bok-su's chin touched her sternum, looking to see Da-Jeong at the foot of the bed. With a determined expression on her face. Bok-su sighs, sinking into the mattress. "I just want to sleep, please, no more of the theatrics." Bok-su turns over, burying her face into the pillows.
"Will you at least acknowledge how much I love you?"
"I love you too," Bok-su said into the pillow.
"What was that?" She waved her hand near her ear. "I didn't hear you!" Then, ripping Bok-su's pillow away from her face, she covered her face, hissing like a vampire being blinded by their bedside lamplight.
"I love you!" Bok-su squeaked. Fair enough, Da-Jeong decided.
"Okay," She clicks off the light, watching Bok-su's previously tense shoulders and brows melt away into a more tranquil expression. Da-Jeong sidles into Bok-su's side, sliding the pillow beneath Bok-su's head and fluffing it up for her. They both adjust underneath the blankets, adjusting solely to lie on their sides and stare at each other. "Please drink the lovely tea I made for you," Da-Jeong whispers.
Bok-su opened one eye to stare, not saying anything at first. As if concluding on her own, "I should," Bok-su replies, just as quietly but not whispering. Turning over to reach for the cup, sitting up just enough to take a sip without tipping it over on herself. Something clenched in Da-Jeong's heart watching Bok-su stretch to drink, so she leaned forward with her hands to steady the cup in Bok-su's hands. Wiping away a droplet threatening to spill from her lips.
Bok-su's Eve's cherry bobbed as she drew the cup away, placing it back on the bedside table. Da-Jeong coaxes Bok-su to turn around instead. She complies, she moves slowly as a snail, but she moves. Da-Jeong snakes her hands around Bok-su's waist, her chin resting atop Bok-su's cranium.
Da-Jeong hums happily, Bok-su parrots the sound in her own rehash, the sound as if straight from a grinding mechanism. The sound was breathy as if she squeezed out the noise. But it was a sound of relief nonetheless.
About two hours or so, because the sun was soon to rise after they woke. Da-Jeong woke up first and left the bed first, opening the curtains and getting ready for the day. Da-Jeong did in-fact sent the emails to their professors and study groups today, because she had access. Bok-su didn't feel the light at first, but she did feel lovely kisses being littered onto her shoulders. Bok-su then realized that she must have ripped her shirt off in her sleep for a tank top.
Bok-su didn't sleep in because she felt the pain in her joints and muscles start to sharpen as she kept on. So she instead sat up against the headboard, sipping the freshly poured tea Da-Jeong rushed to give her. Watching as Da-Jeong moved around the room to get ready. Coughing a couple of times, but keeping her illness to herself.
"Okay," Da-Jeong breathes, as if she ran a marathon, slinging her bag on. "Since I can't stay here with you, I prepared some things in the meantime. I ran a warm bath for you. There's a bowl on your side of the bed on the floor for vomit," She explains quickly. Bok-su wakes her hands to stop her, "What?" Da-Jeong asks.
"My dear, please," Bok-su's voice came rough yet soothed Da-Jeong. "It's still early," She holds her hands out as if asking for closeness. Da-Jeong softened and hooked her bag on the doorknob. Da-Jeong is closing in on Bok-su to draw her hands around her head, cradling her by the skull close. Bok-su leans into it, smiling to herself when she feels the peck of lips on her forehead.
She pulls away, and Bok-su watches with a question in her face as Da-Jeong prepares something in the kitchenette. Until she returns with a bowl, filled to the brim, and a large spoon in her other hand, she usually uses it for both soup. Bok-su's heart drops to her feet, porridge.
Da-Jeong steadies Bok-su by her shoulder, setting the bowl aside, and Bok-su wretches away as if it were water to a cat. Adverse. Da-Jeong watches her expression of disgust when the substance sloshes around against its ceramic walls and the spoon mixes in it as an absent movement. Bok-su covers her mouth, the sound irking her.
"It's berry porridge, I thought you'd like it," Da-Jeong says, her voice small. Bok-su only turns up her nose and makes a noise of grumpy disapproval. Da-Jeong thought to compare her behavior in her head to stubborn toddlers refusing to eat, back when she used to babysit in grade-school. Da-Jeong sat down beside Bok-su, cradling the bowl. "Do you feel too sick to eat?"
Bok-su shakes her head.
Da-Jeong raises a mouthful and a larger spoonful, holding it up. Bok-su doesn't budge. So she had the brilliant idea, if she's going to be childish, she'll treat her as such. "Preewwouu~"Da-Jeong sputters, charting a path for the spoon toward Bok-su's mouth.
She covers her mouth and turns away slightly, her eyes going to the roof. "Are you serious?" she asked through her hands. Her voice muffled.
"Yes! Bok-su-ah, please eat!" Da-Jeong whines, her voice high-pitched, her foot jack-hammering into the floor for a moment. Bok-su covers her face and her ears halfway, going completely silent. "Please," Da-Jeong tries again, to no avail. Her spoon dropped into the bowl.
Bok-su wiped the sweat away from her forehead, covering her eyes again. "Sorry," Da-Jeong utters, raising her hand to touch Bok-su, hovering nearby before naught. "Are you um… okay?"
Bok-su is silent for a beat. "No… I feel all sweaty and gross," she grumbles. "And that damn porridge… It's making me feel worse just looking at it, and my fucking fingers are locking up."
"So… Overstimulated?" Da-Jeong inquires gently, not too versed in the knowledge of the topic. She sets the bowl out of sight, mentally noting to toss the contents. "I can turn on the fan? Your bath is waiting for you still as well." Da-Jeong offers, trying to assist. Bok-su uncovers her face, hugging herself and staring down at the blanket that was bunched up and shoved away. Bok-su shrugs.
"Can I hug you?" Bok-su nods.
"I'll miss you," Bok-su whispered.
"I'll miss you too, my love," Da-Jeong says into Bok-su's hair. Her hand carding through her strands, catching on a knot, before smoothing over instead. Taking note of the forgotten hair-tie. "I think we should freshen up." Bok-su makes an agreeable noise, feeling a bit better.
Bok-su looks up then, letting Da-Jeong press rolls into her fingers in an attempt to loosen the tightening ligaments. "You want a quickie?" Da-Jeong pats her on the back hard, stepping away. Distraught flashed across her gaze before she furrowed her brows and smiled.
"Idiot, no! I'm going to bathe you before I leave!" Da-Jeong lectured before dragging Bok-su into the bathroom with support. Bok-su's naked body sinks into the water, leaning against the tub walls, stretching her legs out with a groan. Her ligaments were swelling pretty badly, her bones already ached at times, specifically her joints, akin to the warmth that soothed her, akin to kitten licks to open wounds.
"You feel okay?" Da-Jeong asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she soaped up a washcloth, "Not like… Nauseous?"
Bok-su shook her head. Her throat was sore, and the steam from the waters unclogged her nasal passages. Da-Jeong leaned in to run the cloth along her body, and Bok-su felt relived almost, that she had Da-Jeong. That she had her girlfriend to bathe her, even if that fact alone would've been embarrassing, Bok-su lacked her shame at this point. She feels more ashamed at the thought of having no help, or refusing it altogether…
Without Da-Jeong, she would have to struggle against the walls, and eventually her knees would give out, and she would have to half bathe herself on the floor of the tub and strain herself further… But with Da-Jeong… Da-Jeong. Treating her with such care, always glad to help, and she was always glad to refuse…
Da-Jeong noticed Bok-su staring. "What is it?" she asked, worried, thinking maybe this would be when Bok-su would vomit. But she doesn't look like she's holding a gag. Bok-su shook her head, looking down at herself.
"I guess I just wanna say," Bok-su trails off, her eyes following her hand, which wades the water slowly. Gathering the courage. Da-Jeong's ministrations halted to listen. "Thank you… I don't appreciate your help—love, often."
Da-Jeong's eyes widened for a second before she gave a warm smile. "You don't have to thank me, my love," was all she said. "I know you appreciate me, you just don't tell as most people do, I know your tell, and you show it more so say it."
"That's an odd way of saying I have my own way of telling you I appreciate you in my own way," Bok-su muses with a thoughtful smile. Da-Jeong dips her hand into the warm, sudsy water, her fingers brushing against Bok-su's underneath as she takes her hand gently in hers. Holding it close and cradling it tenderly, Da-Jeong leans down and kisses Bok-su's loose fingers. The gesture causes Bok-su's cheeks to flush despite her condition.
"I love you," Da-Jeong says reverently. Sincerity drenched her voice, her gaze pure as they met Bok-su's eyes.
Bok-su's heart swells, not in a painful way but a good swell. Which seemed impossible with what she deals with, "I love you too."
Da-Jeong continues her ministrations, scrubbing Bok-su's legs and thighs, every square of her skin washed with attention and care. The cloth was making its way underwater slowly, like a sea slug, gliding along her body. Before she soaps it once more, gently diving towards more intimate spaces. During this part, Da-Jeong shifts the topic with a light smile, "Do you want anything specific to eat? I could pick something up when I come back." Da-Jeong explained the options thoughtfully: Bok-su could either choose something from home, wait for her to return, or perhaps even do both if she felt inclined.
Bok-su thinks for a moment before answering, the question easily distracting her when Da-Jeong cleans the space between her thighs. "Microwave rice and boiled eggs." The simplicity appeals to her now—low-calorie food that isn't overwhelming and won't upset her stomach easily. "And broth-less ramen," she adds with a sparkle in her eye. Just then, Bok-su coughs into the inside of her elbow, trying to stifle it. Da-Jeong immediately reacts with concern, showing as she instinctively covers her own mouth.
While Da-Jeong pondered what to write down, about to mentally note Bok-su's order, when Da-Jeong suddenly brightens with an idea, "You know, I could just make that here, right now. It's no trouble at all. Let me buy you something extra special, a sweet treat!" Da-Jeong's enthusiasm is contagious, and Bok-su can't help but smile. Da-Jeong gestures for Bok-su to turn for her back to face her.
"Well, if you're going to treat me," Bok-su says smugly, lips straining not to smile, turning her body to stare at the wall, "Then buy me a strawberry & mint chocolate chip milkshake." Da-Jeong licks her own lips at the thought of such a thick curdled shake (how Bok-su likes her shakes).
Bringing the cloth to her bare back, Da-Jeong noticed her dead skin flaking off. The cloth slipped between her armpits. "That's your go-to choice when it comes to ice cream," Da-Jeong mumbled to herself as she set the washcloth aside to work on Bok-su's hair. She gently tugged the strands, and Bok-su's hair came loose. Da-Jeong decided to dampen her hair but chose to brush it when it's dry.
When she's done, Bok-su gets dressed in another tank top and breathable pants. Da-Jeong guides her to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands steady on Bok-su's shoulders. Bok-su's damp hair is now dry, her tank top sticking slightly from the residual steam. "Sit still for me," Da-Jeong murmurs, the only sounds the fan on low as she reaches for the roll of KT tape she keeps tucked in their drawer. Bok-su felt her bones buzz at the sight, as if it couldn't wait for the relief.
Da-Jeong peels the first strip with practised ease, having applied this for Bok-su before. During late-night study sessions, Bok-su's fingers and wrists stiffened, and she suffered from a blinding migraine from staring at a screen and a sea of words. Or after intimacy, when Bok-su felt too weak, or when she felt overstimulated from the pain and stress combined, and needed relief. Da-Jeong was there.
She presses the tape along Bok-su's knees, positioning her leg so it flexes accordingly, smoothing it with her thumb, stretching it to lift the skin and support the joint underneath. Bok-su exhales sharply. "You okay?" Da-Jeong asks, and Bok-su only nods.
She moves to Bok-su's wrists next, and Bok-su lifts her arms reluctantly. Eyes falling away as she felt her fingers lock up for seemingly no reason, not wanting to see it stiffen in real time. Her nerves are sparking. Da-Jeong pauses at her reaction, "Do you want your compression gloves instead?" Her tone is soft, never pitying but always attentive.
Bok-su hesitates as her pride flickers, then dims. "Yeah…" Da-Jeong moves to her shoulders, shifting on the mattress for easier application. Peeling a strip along her back, Bok-su suddenly speaks.
"It always hurts so much worse when I'm sick." Bok-su spoke. Da-Jeong made a noise of acknowledgement, pressing the tap along her shoulder, her fingers following the curve of her muscle. Bok-su felt the ache numbing as the support was applied. She stared down at her fingers, nerves sparking to flex them only to misfire, wincing at the feeling. Applying another on Bok-su's neck, just in case.
"It's your immune system, you're usually fatigued from its strain, but being sick like this makes it worse," Da-Jeong says, and Bok-su scoffs.
"Tell me something I don't know." She hears the shuffle behind her, and the bristles of a brush comb through her hair next. Da-Jeong leans over to hand her the compression gloves, and Bok-su takes them with stiff movement. Merely holding them instead, knowing that she couldn't do it herself right now. Da-Jeong notices and finishes brushing her hair. Checking the clock as she did, making sure she had enough time.
Da-Jeong nudged Bok-su's hands before gently taking the gloves, manually easing her stubborn fingers into their individual sleeves, one by one. Bok-su felt the warmth from her nimble and free fingers, and she didn't envy it; she relied on Da-Jeong's life, relied on that warmth when her tendons felt like rusted hinges.
"There," Da-Jeong whispers, rubbing soothing shapes into Bok-su's back as she coughs into her arm once more. Bok-su's shoulders drooped, and didn't ache at the motion. Da-Jeong's hand came around to the side of Bok-su's face, guiding her temple to meet her lips. Bok-su leans against her, and in Da-Jeong's free hand, she offers pain medication. Bok-su takes it gladly, relishing in the kisses that land on the side of her face with exaggerated smooching noises.
Bok-su quickly got embarrassed and eventually squirmed. "Ah-ah your not going anywhere," she giggles. Wrapping her arms around Bok-su's midsection to prevent her from getting away. She let her head tip sideways once more, surrendering.
Da-Jeong microwaves some packaged rice and boils eggs in a mini pot alongside its ramen. Not spicy, kind of sour though. Kiwi tinge? Da-Jeong thought the flavor came with it. Da-Jeong returns, tucking Bok-su in, placing her food down beside the bed. Making sure the fan was on low, the humidifier on low. Peeling a cooling gel sheet that previously sat in the fridge and applying it to Bok-su's forehead.
"Try not to cause too much trouble while I'm gone. I'll swing by your dorm and grab your favs," Da-Jeong pecks another kiss to Bok-su's forehead, as though she couldn't get enough of her. Tossing her the controller to the television. Her carbineer jingling against her pants with her essentials. "Okay, I'll be back as soon as you know it—! Bye, love you!"
"Love you too," Bok-su says to an empty room as the door closes. But she isn't deterred; she's comfortable, thanks to her dearest.
…
Bok-su doesn't remember when she fell asleep, but she remembers almost vomiting into the bucket beside the bed. Curled beneath the blankets, not waking up with pain all over, thanks to the KT-tape Da-Jeong put on her. The K-drama she seemingly fell asleep to playing softly near the foot of the bed, the sky outside the window of drawn curtains was late-evening blue. The humidifier is humming along with the fan, creating its own symphony.
Thanks to the lotus Da-Jeong prepared for her, her throat didn't feel as raw. Her forehead was cool beneath the gel sheet that had slipped halfway off her face, but it did its job. Bok-su recognized that the TV drama was far past where she left it. At a plotline she wasn't familiar with. She pauses the TV with ease.
Da-Jeong steps inside, shoulders slumping with the kind of tiredness that comes from a long day of lectures followed by a full shift at the senior home. Her scrubs were wrinkled, her hair messily down, but her eyes lit up the moment she saw Bok-su awake.
"Honey, I'm home," Da-Jeong quotes, giggling, "You're up, looking like you've had a good nap for once."
Bok‑su tried to sit straighter. Da‑Jeong was already at her side, setting down a recyclable disposable bag full of things Bok-su recognized dearly, snacks, the comfort sweater she's worn since grade school, and a plushy Da-Jeong must've known she slept with every night.
"You're practically glowing, baby," Da-Jeong murmured against Bok-su, not quite leaning into her. Even if she was tired, she could imagine how Bok-su felt. "Not as tired as before, as you?"
"Mm hmm," Bok-su hummed. Leaning against her as Da-Jeong settled into bed alongside her. Da-Jeong kicked off her shoes. Leaning over and kissing her cheek, way too close to her mouth to be healthy.
Da-Jeong reached for the disposable bag and put it in Bok-su's lap, retrieving a bottle of electrolyte drink — the brand Da-Jeong and Bok-su exclusively used to be clean. A silicone pastel straw peeking out.
"I managed to buy your milkshake on the way too," she set down the dual drinks with pride. "It's chunky like you like it."
Bok-su, naturally, drank the electrolytes first, sipping steadily. It cooled her throat in an instant. She takes her sip/bite(?) from the milkshake, her eyes fluttering shut, an excessive suction needed to get the bigger bites and chew in her mouth. "Oh my—" Bok-su utters, "It's so good,"
Da-Jeong laughs breathlessly, "Too bad I can't try it," She practically petted Bok-su from her motion of stroking her hair. "But I got my own milkshake in the fridge for tomorrow when I leave."
Da-Jeong's arm slides from behind Bok-su. Pulling her close, Bok-su exhaled as she took another eager sip from the straw, sucking the absolute sweetness from its core. "How was work?" Bok-su asked quietly.
"Ugh, never a good question, I deal with sad old people with some form of amnesia and are bitter toward me." Da-Jeong groaned, and Bok-su only smiled to herself. Da-Jeong could complain, and she could praise the job all at the same time; she knew. "Mr. Lee keeps trying to bribe me with jelly cups he saw me happily receive once, so I'd let him skip physical therapy. I had one of our guy workers deal with him later when he asked for more shower time… Like dude, you're not slick."
Bok-su listened as Da-Jeong ranted about the good and bad, updating Bok-su on the lectures for today, which reminded Bok-su that maybe she should review a couple of things. Her finger clicks on the remote to change the TV, scrolling through Da-Jeong's watch-list and skimming summaries to find something that interests her. One thing caught her attention. "They asked about you, the seniors, and our coworkers,"
"Me?" Bok-su asked, her voice small. Doubt blossomed in her chest as she selected a movie with a plot that intrigued her.
"You were my favorite topic today, since you weren't there."
The two of them lay there, the TV flickering at the foot of the bed, the room dim and cozy. Bok‑su sipped her milkshake again, then set it aside so she could curl deeper into Da‑Jeong’s embrace.
"What did you tell them?"
"That you were taken care of and staying at my place," Da-Jeong smirked, knowing that people talk.
"It's really none of their business," Bok-su utters, her cheeks flashing with heat. Burying her face into Da-Jeong's chest."No matter what some old geezer tells me, I'm not ashamed of my love for you, not ever," Da-Jeong replies with a firmness that holds no room for argument.
Bok-su didn't plan to argue. "Me either…"