A Senior with a Cold
The senior had caught a cold. The weather was overcast. Still, Jinwoo's mood was good. With a faint, mysterious smile, he hung the last remaining hanger on the rack.
The closet he'd organized while putting away his school uniform was now perfectly arranged. He was the type who couldn't relax if the books on his shelf were even slightly out of order, so the sight of everything in its place filled him with quiet satisfaction. But the closet wasn't the real reason for his good mood today.
I should contact her soon, right? It was the pink notebook Eunbyul had left behind. More precisely, it was the perfect excuse it gave him to call her.
Of course, he was genuinely worried about her too. A writer lived on ideas, no matter what else. He could easily imagine how important that notebook must be to her.
So calling like this isn't weird at all.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Jinwoo dialed her number. The name Eunbyul Sunbae appeared on his smartphone screen, and the ringtone lasted a little longer than usual. Soon came the soft click as she picked up.
“Uh...... Jinwoo. What's up?”
Jinwoo, who had been about to speak, felt his lips twitch on their own. But though they moved, no words came out. He was too startled by how weak her voice sounded.
The Eunbyul he knew always spoke with boundless energy and cheer. Just listening to her was enough to lift his own spirits. Yet the voice coming through the phone now was hoarse and completely drained of life.
“Sunbae, what's wrong? Did something happen?”
“Mmm... it's nothing serious. I think I caught a cold.”
The image of Eunbyul shivering after getting caught in the rain yesterday flashed through his mind. He'd thought they'd avoided the worst of it, but it seemed she'd come down with something once she got home.
What followed was pure worry for her.
Didn't she say she lives alone?
That meant no one was there to look after her. She'd have to handle everything herself—taking medicine, bundling up to rest, even preparing meals. For someone sick with a cold, even those simple tasks felt impossible.
“So what is it?”
While he was still worrying, Eunbyul asked again in that frail voice. The realization that he'd kept a sick person on the phone too long snapped him back to attention.
“You left your notebook behind. The pink one—it's yours, right?”
“Oh, really? Why would it be there?”
He heard the rustle of her searching for it. Even that small movement sounded weak, and he was sure it wasn't just his imagination.
“Yeah... I didn't even notice I'd left it. Sorry, but I'll come pick it up later. Could you hold onto it for me?”
“Ah! I'll bring it over!”
“No, then I'd feel bad. You might catch my cold, so I'll come get it once I'm better. Please take care of it until then.”
Even while sick, she was still thinking of him first. That was so like her. With those words, she ended the call.
Normally she would have chatted in that playful voice of hers, teasing him about all sorts of things. She really must be feeling terrible.
If no one's there to look after her, she won't recover properly. Did she even go to the hospital?
Worry rose like smoke, scorching his chest. Thoughts of Eunbyul—the respected writer and senior he admired—the anxiety of her being sick, and a touch of guilt. All those feelings merged into a single image: Eunbyul lying alone in bed with no one to care for her.
......Should I go see her?
He had to meet her to return the notebook anyway. It felt awkward to invite her to his place again, so visiting her should be fine this time.
After a short internal debate, Jinwoo started gathering his clothes. Even if she didn't need any help, that would be okay too.
I shouldn't have come after all.
Reaching Eunbyul's house hadn't been difficult. He'd driven her home just yesterday, so he already knew the exact address. He started the motorcycle, pulled on rain gear to stay dry, twisted the throttle, and arrived in no time. Buying nursing supplies had been surprisingly easy too—one quick stop at the mart had covered everything. He was even impressed that stores carried those kinds of things now.
But standing in front of her door and pressing the doorbell? That was strangely hard.
I wonder if Sunbae felt this way when she first came to our house.
He suddenly felt like he'd done something ridiculous. It was only a door. Why did it feel like some sacred ground he shouldn't trespass on?
Still, he couldn't turn back now. Most importantly, Eunbyul was sick with a cold. It would be better for her to have someone around to help, even a little.
I'll just hand over the stuff I bought and the notebook and leave.
With that thought, Jinwoo took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.
A slightly longer silence than expected. Just as he wondered whether he should ring again or if she'd already gone to the hospital, he heard the lock click and the door opened.
“Cough! ......Who is it?”
There was a hint of wariness in her voice. That was understandable—she was sick and someone had shown up without warning. Even knowing that, a small part of him still felt a chill.
“Hello, Sunbae. It's me.”
“Huh? Jinwoo?”
Eunbyul's eyes widened as she opened the door the rest of the way. Her slightly flushed cheeks made it obvious she was running a fever.
And Jinwoo froze for an entirely different reason. She was wearing a simple white short-sleeved t-shirt and black dolphin shorts. There was nothing particularly revealing about the outfit—it was standard loungewear for women at home.
But on someone with Eunbyul's figure, the effect was devastating. Her chest strained against the fabric, creating soft, full curves, while her thighs and hips formed a dangerously alluring line.
Jinwoo felt a flash of embarrassment at the subtle sexiness of it, but he quickly remembered she was sick and held out the bag.
“Here, take this.”
“What is it? Did you really come all this way just to return the notebook? It would've been fine.”
“That's part of it. I also bought some things that should help with your cold.”
The white bag contained her notebook safely tucked inside a ziplock bag, along with cold medicine, headache pills, electrolyte drinks, and simple porridge that only needed to be microwaved.
“I only grabbed what seemed immediately necessary. There's porridge too, so if you haven't eaten yet—”
Worried he might be overwhelming her, Jinwoo had been explaining in a rush when he suddenly stopped dead.
Tears were rolling down Eunbyul's cheeks.
......Huh?
It was such a beautiful, movie-like sight, but a woman's tears had always held the power to fluster a man. Jinwoo was no exception.
“S-Sunbae, why are you crying?”
The flustered Jinwoo tried to soothe her, but like a child who cried harder when given attention, Eunbyul burst into loud sobs.
“Huuuuurgh!”
“S-Sunbae?”
“I-I...! My head hurts, I've got a fever, I feel like I'm going to throw up, and there's nothing to eat at home. On top of that I forgot the notebook and caused trouble for you again, Jinwoo... I feel so pathetic!! Waaah!”
“O-okay! I get it, I get it all, so please calm down first!”
He'd always thought Eunbyul was pretty cool despite her clumsy side. But it seemed she'd been hurting more than he'd realized and had simply reached her limit. He hadn't expected her to cry like this. Coming over had definitely been the right decision.
“Sniff, sniff.”
Jinwoo had finally managed to calm her down and get her back into bed. Even lying there with a tired face, she still looked beautiful.
“Don't cry too much. If you wear yourself out, it'll take longer to recover.”
“Yeah...... thanks.”
Maybe because she was sick, she seemed more docile than usual. Seeing an older woman like this felt strangely cute.
Jinwoo tidied up the things he'd brought and glanced around the house.
It's a nice place, just like I thought from outside.
As expected of a star writer. Eunbyul's home was quite large for a single woman, with multiple rooms. Yet for that very reason, it felt strangely empty. Maybe the vacant rooms made it seem even more so.
She did say she'd moved in not long ago.
Jinwoo was used to living surrounded by a noisy family. The quiet atmosphere here felt oddly foreign.
While looking around, his eyes landed on a white bra sitting in the laundry basket.
“Hup!”
He whipped his head away. Then, carefully avoiding contact, he covered it with other clothes.
It was only natural for such things to be in a woman's home. But for Jinwoo, it was an overwhelmingly strong stimulus.
It wasn't just underwear—it was something Eunbyul had worn. And the size was much larger than he'd imagined…….
I really am turning into a pervert.
What kind of thoughts were these in a sick person's house? Jinwoo shook his head hard, trying to clear his mind.
He headed into the kitchen.
“Sunbae, you haven't eaten yet, right? Is it okay if I use the kitchen?”
“Yeah... please……”
Her voice was even weaker than before. She sounded completely out of it.
This is exactly when she needs proper nutrition.
There was instant porridge, but he'd leave that for her to make later. Since he'd come all this way, he wanted to prepare something real. Of course, nothing too heavy or spicy for a patient. And as she'd said, the fridge was nearly empty.
After a moment's thought, he decided on egg porridge.
Eggs are full of nutrients, after all.
It wasn't something he made often, but porridge was simple enough. He prepared broth and finely chopped vegetables, mixed them with rice in a pan, and once the rice had softened, added the egg and stirred again. A light touch of salt finished it.
He let the porridge cool so it wouldn't burn her tongue, ladled it into a bowl, and brought it to her.
“Sunbae, I made porridge. Think you can eat some?”
“Yeah, I'll eat. I'm hungry.”
Eunbyul wriggled upright with half-lidded, dreamy eyes. She hadn't seemed this out of it on the phone. Maybe having someone here to look after her had let her relax. She looked both lethargic and strangely spoiled, like a child throwing a tantrum. It made him smile.
“It's egg porridge. It might still be hot, so let it cool a bit first.”
Jinwoo carefully set the tray in front of her.
But instead of picking up the spoon, Eunbyul simply stared at the bowl. Then, looking up at him, she mumbled softly.
“......Feed me.”