You're to Die for (NewJeans x male reader)

Fragments

Every since the day you fainted, you felt wrong.

Like you couldn't walk, or breathe, or do anything right.

Not that you were physically incapable of it literally, but it felt different.

Your normally quiet yet light demeanor turned to one of silence and sorrow.

The girls had texted, called, even visited; you hadn't answered them. Your mind felt too busy searching for her face to do anything other than eat, do school work, and sleep. Before you knew it, it had been a week of this lostness.

You had picked up working out as it helped you concentrate and allowed you to replay the dream over and over again.

Now that you thought about it, how many times had you reimagined it?

The way her skin shone, the tone of her voice, how you felt so unbelievably comfortable around her.

Did it really matter?

"Get up," you heard you mother say from the door way.

You looked up from your phone.

"Why?" You questioned.

Her eyes were sad and worried.

You wondered why.

"Because all you do is go to school, eat, and sleep. Do you know how worried those five girls are?" She asked.

"Does it matter?" Your voice void of emotion did nothing but question these days.

Her brows furrowed and she stormed over to you before sitting down on your bed.

"Honey," she began as she took your hand. "What happened?"

You stared blankly.

"I don't know," you answered honestly.

Your mother looked heart broken.

She sighed.

"Well, if you need me, please tell me, okay?" She rubbed her thumb across your knuckle.

Looking down, you didn't think, just paused.

"Okay, I will," you said.

"Good, and make sure you go down to see your father, he's off work today," she explained as she got up and walked back to the door before turning to look at you. "Love you."

"Love you too," you responded with little to no effort.

Her gaze dropped as she closed the door.

You sat upright for a while.

Maybe it would be nice to see your dad.

You got up and made your way downstairs, knocking on the door to your fathers office.

"Come in," a muffled voice called.

You opened the door to see your dad and Liz.

"Look who it is, we were Just talking about you," your father explained as he opened a case, revealing four syringes.

Liz looked to you with weary eyes.

"Looks like you gained some muscle in a week," your father mentioned.

You looked down at your biceps and pecks, they had grown a lot for one week of working out.

You looked back up to see your father giving Liz a shot.

"I guess I have," you said.

He nodded as he picked up the second syringe.

"How's it been going with those girls?" He asked.