At first, especially when Lyndon visited, I had high beliefs I'd recover just fine, in about a day.

But no, not really.

I feel sick. I feel like I need to throw up every minute of the day. I feel like something is still about to happen. How many times did Austin suddenly show up just when we were about to be safe?

The dealer, who appears to be named Marcus, is no longer even the problem. He's dead. He was crazy. But Austin was crazier, in some way.

"Ready to take a shower?" The nurse shakes me out of my thoughts. I'm glad she does. And she's also pretty sweet.

"Not really," I say quietly. "I don't think I'm, like... capable of it. Physically. But I really want to feel cleaner."

Most of my pain radiates from my head. It's a fierce throbbing that blurs my vision now and then. My body aches, too. I feel every little bruise from all the times I've fallen. From being pressed against the wall, choked. Little cuts from running through the cornfields. I don't even know what some bruises came from— they're just there and they hurt.

My skin feels raw and tender yet dirty. Heat pulses through my body, while chills run through my bones. Hunger's gnawing at my insides. It's a hollow feeling that's twisting tighter by the time.

"I can help you," she suggests.

I look up at her. I think my face says enough.

"Or someone else. Who would you be comfortable with?"

Lyndon, Minho, Jennifer, Dad, and somewhere, Amina.

"Minho," I say. Then I remember she obviously has no idea who he is. "Eh, the... the..." The really beautiful and amazing one. "...just call his name. He'll know and he won't mind."

She smiles at me. "Got it."

This will actually be the first time I'm seeing Minho in this bed. Besides the fact the nurse already didn't want me to see a lot of people and be overwhelmed, my head started hurting. So badly that I just couldn't handle more visits.

I need every visit to go amazing. To make me feel better. To reassure the other. Not some messy thing in which they're sitting beside my bed as I try to get over my concussion.

A minute later, the door opens and Minho reveals himself. He doesn't look much different, though he seems a bit tired and is in the need of a haircut. But that second thing is literally the least thing I feel like worrying about right now.

"Hi, there." My whole insides warm up at his voice. And boom, I'm crying again. "It's so good to see you." His arms slide around me, suddenly so large compared to my torso. He takes my hand, warming it up immediately.

I inhale. And exhale, choking out a sob. And inhale again. The familiar smell of his aftershave comforts me. Or it's deodorant— I don't care. He could've shown up all sweaty and I'd still be glad to smell something else than that sick cloth they put in my mouth, for example.

"You're burning," he mutters. "Did they say anything about a fever?"

"I don't know." I pull him closer. "I was busy in my head. Sorry if I stink—"

He chuckles. "I wouldn't be able to blame you. But they mentioned a bath?"

"Yeah. Could you help?"

"Of course."

We stay there for a little while, hands intertwined, arms wrapped around each other, half-crying until I let go of him and announce where the shower is.

Minho removes the sheets off my body, then helps me get up. I feel like I'm floating once we're walking. I can't tell if that's the fact he's basically carrying me, or if my head is just that light.

"How do you feel?" He asks, putting me back down on the ground. "Can you stand? It doesn't hurt?"

"I can stand," I assure. "But I feel pretty shitty."

He nods. "What water temperature do you usually bath in?"

Hesitantly, I twist it to the hottest temperature possible.

"Ah. No, no. That's gonna burn your skin and turn you into a grandma, ma'am." He shakes his head.

"You'd still love me if I was a grandma."

"Yes, but this is not healthy for the skin." He lowers the temperature. The water starts running. I hold my hand beneath it. It's hot but not too hot.

It's perfect.

"Do the nerves even still work after all that hot water you've bathed in before?" He wonders, pressing his fingers against my ribs.

I start yelping in a second, trying to pray him off. "Don't do that!"

"Hm, alright. Nerves still work." His smile is so bright that the dimples appear, and I want to stare at his face forever. "Passed the test. Now we'll go check if we can manage to get those knots out of your hair. And maybe leaves and sticks."

I pull a face. He smiles another time, then starts undoing the thing the hospital dressed me in as the tub fills with water.

After eyeing the shampoo, conditioner, and soap they put down, Minho walks up to the door. "Wait a second. I'm going to get something better."

"This is fine," I say quickly. I don't want him to leave for a full ten minutes to get a better soap or something.

"No, I promise. It will take like one minute."

In the end, he appears to be right. He's back in about thirty seconds, a mini Rituals body wash in his hands.

"Where did you get that?" I think my eyes are heart-shaped at the sight of it.

He grins. "Mom's handbag."

"Thank you." I smile so hard it hurts.

"No problem." Minho places a kiss on my forehead before he squirts some of the soap in the bathtub.

Slowly, while holding his hand, I step into the water. A shiver runs down my spine at the sudden warm feeling and the little bubbles the soap has made.

"Is it okay?"

"Mhm." I sit down on the bottom of the tub. "Maybe we should start with conditioner to get the knots and everything out. Is there a brush?"

"Yeah. Just sit and I'll do it."

I smile. "Free massage with it?"

"Shh! I was about to do that. Now it seems like I don't do it voluntarily."

"Oh, sorry," I laugh. "I take my words back."

Minho puts a ton of conditioner in my hair and starts running his finger through my hair. At first, it hurts. The concussion isn't working in my benefit and neither are the knots. But eventually, it starts to feel nice.

He rinses it out after a few minutes, then starts with the shampoo, running his hands down my back and shoulders as well. Rinses that out, another shampoo, and rinses again.

"Clean enough or another round?"

"Clean enough," I reply.

So as the last step, Minho applies conditioner in the ends of my hair. While we wait, he circles his fingers all over my skin. I close my eyes. The second I do, I feel the world ebbing away from me. I'm probably getting the best sleep of my life after this.

"How's Thomas?" I ask.

"He woke up for like one second. Asked from Teresa and his parents. But by the time they sat down next to his bed, he was back asleep."

"But he's okay," I state. It comes close to a question.

"Yes, he's okay. It'll take a while before he can properly walk, with that stab in his leg, but he'll be okay."

"Okay." I allow the relief to deeply sink in. After a few deep breaths, I feel a thousand times better than a few hours ago.