gigi 🦝

Jinsol knew this was bound to happen. Even as they boarded the plane, the telltale signs of Jungeun’s incoming illness were hard to ignore. The leader settled herself into her personal cubby space their company booked in business class, fit her headphones on nice and snug, and let herself drift away until the distance between her overworked body and overwhelmed mind was immeasurable.

 At the very least, the flight wasn’t horribly long. Only a handful of hours from their last stop to the next but the longer the plane stayed in the air, the more Jinsol could tell this wasn’t just a teeny-tiny-pass-over-night kind of bug. Even with being sat across the aisle and not directly beside Jungeun like Yerim was, she could see the flush taking over the leader’s skin. She could all but feel the heat radiating from her direction.

For the sake of Yerim, Jinsol didn’t bring it up.

If she stopped the flight attendant once or twice to get Jungeun water and wake her up just long enough to drink from the cup held out towards her, no one thought twice about it.

If she let her wrist rest against Jungeun’s forehead simmering with the threats of a fever for longer than necessary when adjusting her headset back on, no one besides their manager gave it more than a glance.

It wasn’t until the descent that Jinsol really started to worry. Not only had Jungeun begun fidgeting in a desperate attempt to find some comfort through the turbulence, but she could also see the glint in her glazed over eyes. It was as subtly as the sun’s highlights shining through the cabin, yet Jinsol didn’t hesitate to dig through her backpack for the pocket sized Moomin plush she kept in case of instances like this.

 Jungeun didn’t grab it, not right away. It took her a moment to focus her eyes on the little white plush shaking in Jinsol’s palm, but she slowly reached for it and let out a small ‘thanks’ before rubbing at her face with her empty hand. It wasn’t an admission of what Jungeun needed but it wasn’t a rejection either. So Jinsol did what any good unnie would do and reminded them both to start packing what they could into their bags. Sure, she may have helped Jungeun wrap up her wires and cords without tangling them but what unnie wouldn’t help their dongsaeng keep everything together.

For the sake of Yerim, Jinsol hoped Jungeun could keep it together until they settled into their hotel rooms.

--

And she was wrong.

Not about Jungeun getting sick when they only had so many more stops on their first tour as an independent group.

Not about Jungeun being so close to regressing when she hadn’t let herself regress in months.

No, she was wrong about Jungeun’s ability to hold herself together while being sick and on the edge until they were behind closed doors.

 Jinsol caught Jungeun, just barely, as her weight gave out in the elevator. Yerim had already gotten off with their manager whose rooms were on Floor 3 instead of the 5th floor like the older two members. Probably an attempt to save a little money when they were still exploring their place in the entertainment industry as 3 instead of 12, but Jinsol was at least a little grateful to not have to explain anything to anyone.

She was not grateful for, however, the task of balancing a sobbing little and 4 luggage cases out of the elevator and into their room. She managed, because if the past 6 years taught her anything it was how to cope in unfavorable conditions, but a little shouldn’t have to worry.

Part of her could tell Jungeun was still holding back just a bit. Between her cries at the tormenting rumblings she must be feeling inside and the unfamiliar surroundings, Jinsol knew Jungeun wouldn’t let herself completely regress and accept the care she needed unless she forced her to.

That’s how Jinsol found herself half submerged in room temperature waters with a little one far too hot resting against her chest. Moomin wasn’t interested in bath toys, didn’t even care for the bubbles her carer worked hard on creating with the complimentary shampoo left beside the sink, but her tears had dried a little being close to someone familiar. Jinsol couldn’t offer her much of that: familiarity, when they were hundreds if not thousands of miles away from home, but she could offer her arms to protect her from it all.

Because Jinsol would.