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... ned my eyes with great difficulty. Dawon placed his hand over my forehead, which was damp with beads of sweat.

His small but cool hand felt soothing as it brushed against my forehead. Embarrassed, I kept my eyes closed and stayed still. Dawon didn’t move his hand and let me be for a moment.

"You have a bad fever," he said.

"…I guess so."

"Shall I bring you some water?"

"…No."

I shook my head, rejecting a situation where I would have to rise from my ...

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