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𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟾
Jimin was definitely ready to leave back to America, he'd decided that distracting himself with work would be the best plausible outcome. He borded his private jet, ready to finally get back to his job and busy himself from now on.
"Hatami.... Do I have anything scheduled, for when I return." Hatami had giving him a Solemn look, they had already talked after Jimin's video call appointment with his therapist, she was upset with the guy who did this to her boss.
"You have two meetings, back to back upon arrival, then a late lunch meeting with some ambassadors of the brand after. I can reschedule, if you're not feeling up for it." She told him, teetering around her words as to not make him have a full blown meltdown.
"No, it's fine, besides it's too late to reschedule anything, I'll be changing if you need me." He rose out of his seat and headed towards the back of the plane, changing into a more suitable attire. ꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀ
☕︎
After his flurry of meetings Jimin had felt exhausted, physically but mostly mentally. He had finally arrived back at his home where he put on some tea and sat on the terrace, as he'd love to do to relieve stress.
He had soon found comfort in his surroundings, an evening breeze, which lightly blew his hair, the busied people below, and the building lights that shined throughout the city. He'd felt calm in the scene, though it didn't last long as the nauseating feeling returned, only stronger. He shot up from his seat, quickly setting his teacup back on the saucer and rushed to the bathroom, the sound of vomiting could be heard within the marble walls.
Jimin lifted himself up from the toilet bowl, flushing it. He sat back from his kneeled position, and against the adjacent wall, his breathing ragged and heavy. 'What's going on? How am I sick?' He sighs, rubbing his hands up and down on his face. 'It's probably all of this stress.' He thought, pulling his knees to his chest and bawling up against the wall.
☕︎
Having believed that his sickness was a common cold, Jimin continued on with his work, he already had a few commissions he'd wanted to finish. Though anytime he would feel the need to, his body seemed to disagree, he'd go back into his room and rest. His rest would end up having him asleep until the next morning.
He'd have questionable urinal breaks throughout the night, and by the time he'd awoken, the nausea would return ten times fold. It became a cycle for a good couple of weeks.
By a week and a half of his constant ache, he'd decided to go to a doctor. ꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀꕀ
☕︎
Although the doctor only prescribed him with a simple cold as he thought before, he took it wholeheartedly. He'd understood and expected the sickness to go away eventually, and it did after a few more weeks. Though he had soon noticed the amount of weight he had gained over the time.
