Running on 2 hours of sleep with zero food in his exhausted body was bad. It was bad, and he knew that. He knew he should stop working out, he knew he should get something to eat. Anything. He knew how unhealthy this was, how dangerous it was.
He knew all this, very well.
Yet, he doesn't stop. He continues running on that treadmill, feeling like his legs were turning into jello. His head was spinning, his body felt weak, he felt nauseous. But he couldn't stop, he still doesn't have his abs, he hasn't lost much weight. He can't stop now, not when he hasn't reached his goal.
Johnny knew how fucked he was.
YOU ARE READING
Perfect | Johnhyuck
FanfictionJohnhyuck SHORT STORY It would all come tumbling down at some point, right?