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by CarmenKB

by CarmenKB

I shakily grasp Chan's extra apartment key. Opening the door, I notice the kitchen light on. I go check it out with a huff.

I stand in the doorway, watching the elder look around in his tiny fridge for what I'm assuming to eat. Shit. He had a day off because he's a senior.

He turns, jumping out of fright. "Shit! Jisung, you scared the shit out of me. What... are you okay?"

I stare at him, tears welling up in my eyes. I fall to the floor onto my knees. He's quick to collapse next to me, holding me up.

"What happened? What did he do?"

"He... I..." I try to get it out, but I can't. All I can do is cry. Because it hurts so fucking much. "Please... Channie, make... away. Make it go away."

"Baby, don't talk. Just cry, okay? Cry it out now. I'm here with you. I'm here."

And I do. For hours. Ignoring every buzz I felt in my pocket. Ignoring every other concern I had in the back of my head. Ignoring the soreness in my knees and back. I stayed in that moment with him. Because I couldn't do anything else.

Hours went past. He picked me up, letting me continue to cry in his bed. He texted my mom, letting her know I was safe. He didn't text the boys. I didn't tell him not to, but he knew how I was about it.

"Hey, Sungie," he comes back in the room after using the bathroom. Tucking some hair behind my ear, he asks, "do you want Minho?"

I shake my head no. The harsh sobs had stopped, but my tear ducts still overflowed.

"What about Changbin?"

I shrug. Changbin and Chan were the best duo to help. I love Minho, but I can't let him see. I can't let him see how I've turned into a zombie. Into a mess. It'd kill me to see the look on his face.

"Okay, he'll be here soon. Can I get you anything? Water or food?"

I shake my head again, staring out of his open window. I felt nauseous for some reason. What causes nausea when someone is upset? Disappointment? Sadness? Anger? I've never thrown up because I was sad.

"I-I'm gonna be sick," I warn, heavy breathing stirring up. My stomach churned and my throat clogged. Nothing made sense anymore.

He rushes to get a trashcan, helping me sit up only to dry heave. When he set it down, he felt my forehead. His cold hands felt nice.

"You aren't running a fever... did you just start feeling sick? Or has it been the entire day?"

"I don't know. I felt sick when I saw him and it never went away."

"Hm, okay. I'll look it up. Are you going to try and sleep? Or do you want a movie on?"

"Do you have anything for pain?" I close my eyes, holding my hand up in front of my face to block out the light.

"I, uh, I think I have Aspirin. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. I just have a massive headache. It hurts to even keep my eyes open. Can you shut the light off?"

"Yeah, course. I'll be right back."

Everything just hurts.

_____

•I remembered :D•