[EDITING] TOUCH | Nakamoto Yuta

03 |

TW// talk of abortion

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡.:*･*:.｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

He was panicking.

It wasn't going away.

For the last two weeks he's woken up so damn early at ass o'clock in the morning, before anyone was awake —but he bets if he lived in the fifth floor, Taeyong would be the only one who was awake— and would stumble into the bathroom only to vomit his guts out.

It hadn't gone away, and the only thing that was keeping him sane was the fact his body hadn't change, not that he could see at least. He looked as he always did, his stomach was flat, perhaps he gained a bit but he looked normal, as if he was a healthy weight for an average male so there was no concern there, his figure was the same, somewhat narrow shoulders, small and thin waist. All in all, he was the same. Yet what concerned him, left him paranoid, was the sickness in the morning, the unwillingness to eat certain food he usually would eat in an instant, how weak or heavy his limbs felt when he danced, random dizzy spells that would strike him at any moment.

He found himself watching the other members, the ones in 127, and have found himself staring at Johnny, Taeyong, and Jaehyun the most... they were the three that had been closest to him when they woke up, right? What if he really was... that –he didn't want to say the "p" word, as if saying that or merely thinking of it would make it real, realer, and saying so would mean he acknowledges the grand chance that he was, and didn't want to accept it— and that one of them was theirs.

But they were all drugged, no one remembers that night, not that he knows of, and it could be anyone's, hell, for all he knows, that night he could've been intimate with Ten, Mark, or even Donghyuck for gods sake —that last one gave him shivers.

   Once, they were taking a break from dance practice, he was sitting in the corner exhausted, and Mark
approached him, "Hey hyung, why do you keep staring at me through the mirror?"

   Not wanting to admit his thoughts, as it'd lead to a whole different discussion he wasn't ready for, he decided to choose a lighter response, that he of course would've said any other day as well, "Because you're hot while you dance? Need there be another reason?"

   He giggled when he saw the younger's face flush, a real smile appearing on his face as he watched the other sputter over his words before mumbling, "Aish hyung, you can't do that!" In English.

Walking the younger male walk away he unwrapped a brownie he had brought in his bag as a snack, and as he took a bite, his stomach instantly felt queasy, the familiar feeling of bile rising in his throat. Yuta scrambles to get up, leaning into the trash can near the doorway where Dongyoung and Taeyong were talking, spilling his insides.

"Hyung?!" Dongyoung's voice sounded in his ear as hands came to hold his shoulders. He cursed himself, Why did I have to puke here? With all the guys here... what if they make me go see a doctor—

"Taeyongie, he's been sick for a while... I think we should take him to get checked out..." Mark revealed to the leader, walking over. Yuta looked over his shoulder in betrayal.

   "What!?" Dongyoung exclaimed, "For how long?" He demanded.

   Yuta begged silently with his wink as he looked to Mark over Dongyoung's shoulder. Mark shakes his head, he wants all his members to be healthy and happy, and Yuta was neither at the moment. "Three weeks I think. Almost four."