I was leaning heavily against the granite kitchen counter, waiting for the electric kettle to boil, when a sudden, violent tickle detonated in the back of my throat.
"ACHOO!"
I sneezed hard enough to rattle my own spine, immediately followed by a rough, dry cough that left me gasping for air.
"You sound like a dying lawnmower."
I whipped my head around, my dizzy eyes adjusting to see Ha-neul standing in the hallway. She was wearing her comfortable home clothes, her glasses perched neatly on her nose, holding a clean water glass. She squinted at me, her sharp gaze scanning my flushed face, glassy eyes, and slouched shoulders.
"You look terrible," she observed bluntly, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you sick?"
"No, no," I choked out, attempting a quick, reassuring wave of my hand and forcing a weak chuckle. "Everything's fine. Just... a little morning dust in my nose, that's all. Mountain-level immunity, remember?"
Ha-neul didn't buy it for a microsecond.
Without a word, she stepped straight across the kitchen tile. She closed the distance between us, stepping right into my personal space, reached up on her tiptoes, and casually pressed the cool palm of her hand flat against my forehead.
'Aish,' I complained violently in my own head, standing entirely frozen under her touch. 'How can she just reach up and touch my face so casually like that?! Does she have zero spatial boundaries?! My fever is bad enough without my heart doing strange, erratic jumping jacks!'
Ha-neul kept her cool hand against my hot skin for three long seconds before dropping her arm and shaking her head in deep administrative disapproval.
"This won't do," she declared sharply. "We need to go to the doctor right now. You can't afford to skip school this week, and if you miss the final exams and mock assessments, it's going to be big trouble for your grades."
I let out a heavy, suffering sigh, leaning back against the counter. "I told you, Ha-neul-ah, I'm fine. It's just a little fever. I'll drink some hot tea, sleep for three hours, and sweat it out."
"A little fever?" Ha-neul retorted, narrowing her eyes through her lenses. "You are literally burning up like a toaster. We are going to the clinic."
"Besides," I interrupted, trying to summon a logical defense, "I don't even have a registered primary care doctor here in Seoul! It's Sunday morning!"
Ha-neul stared at me for a beat, and then a sudden, genuine laugh broke across her face.
"You really are funny, Mountain," she scoffed softly, shaking her head at my sheer stupidity. "Why on earth would you need to search for a doctor when your own host father literally owns a private medical clinic?"
My brain stalled. Oh. Right. Mr. Lee's medical group.
"Now go back to your room and get dressed," Ha-neul commanded, switching back into her relentless vice-president mode as she turned toward the medicine cabinet. "I'll bring you a fever reducer to take right now, and then I'll call us a taxi."
I opened my mouth to launch one final, stubborn protest, but Ha-neul shot me a look over her shoulder, a tiny, teasing smirk playing at the edge of her lips.
"Additionally," she added nonchalantly, "I just wanted an excuse to eat out at that new place near the clinic anyway. So hurry up. Don't be such a baby."