“I got this,” Jun Dao said and Lin Xun, even if he was feverish and there were currently three Jun Dao’s on his bedside knew that he didn’t get it. He tried to articulate his doubt but a coughing fit wracked his body.
“Oh my god, he’s going to die,” Jun Cheng said from the other side of the bed and held Lin Xun hand as if he wanted to be there for him in the last seconds of his life.
“It’s just a cold,” Lin Xun was able to wheeze out but no one was listening to him.
“Does he need cold wraps?”, Jun Ping asked from the door, dripping wet towels in his arms.
It was the thought that counted, Lin Xun thought and swore that he would never allow the brothers to be in the same place ever again.
“Just call a doctor!”, he rasped into the silence and the brothers looked at each other as if the concept of asking a doctor was totally new for them. Was their immune system so boosted from their weird rich people food that they had no need for a doctor?
“That’s a good idea!”, Jun Cheng said. “Jun Dao, call the doctor, hurry!”
Jun Dao ran out of the room and please, Lin Xun prayed, he would do anything for the sweet nothingness of a faint.
“What about the cold wraps?”, Jun Ping asked.