SEVENTEEN | SICKFICS - HURTFICS I

Seungcheol | Faking Sick Part II

Meanwhile, Seungcheol lay in bed, shivering despite the warmth of the blankets. He groaned softly as another wave of pain surged through his stomach. "This isn't good," he muttered to himself, reaching for the pain medication he had taken earlier. It was almost gone, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Hours passed, and he felt increasingly weak. "I can't believe it's come to this," he whispered, feeling a mix of regret and frustration. He wanted to call out to his members, but fear of their rejection held him back.

As he lay there, he couldn't help but think about how he had created this divide. "Maybe they're right," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Maybe I don't deserve their concern."

That evening, as he struggled to find a comfortable position, he thought of Jeonghan, wishing he could be there to check on him. But Jeonghan was busy with work, leaving Seungcheol to suffer in silence.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a message from Jeonghan: Hey, just finished up! How are you holding up?

Seungcheol hesitated before replying. I'm fine. Just tired.

He didn't want to worry Jeonghan further, but the truth was he was far from fine. The pain flared up again, and he gripped the sheets, wishing for some relief.

When he didn't receive a response right away, he felt a wave of loneliness wash over him. Why can't I just get better? he whispered into the darkness, the heaviness of his situation settling over him like a thick blanket.

As the night dragged on, the silence in the dorm felt deafening. Seungcheol clenched his teeth, trying to distract himself from the pain, but it was futile. He knew he should reach out, but he feared the scorn he would face if he did. Instead, he lay there, waiting for the dawn and hoping that somehow things might change.

Jeonghan returned home at 2 AM, the dorm enveloped in silence. He slipped into Seungcheol's room first but found him asleep, unaware of the pain etched on his face. Feeling a sense of relief that their leader was resting, Jeonghan quietly made his way to his own room.

Morning broke, but Seungcheol's pain had escalated overnight, becoming almost unbearable. As he lay in bed, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "I can't take this anymore," he groaned, determination pushing him to get up.

With great effort, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, feeling dizzy and unsteady. "Just need to get to the medicine," he murmured to himself, focusing on the goal ahead. He stumbled out of his room and made his way down the stairs, leaning against the walls for support.

Downstairs, his members were gathered around the breakfast table, chatting and laughing. But when they saw Seungcheol, they fell silent, watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Is he really trying to pull this again?" Mingyu whispered, crossing his arms.

"Looks like it," Hoshi replied, skeptical. "He can't possibly be that sick."

Seungcheol didn't notice their stares; he was too focused on reaching the medicine cabinet. His body swayed as he walked, and his vision blurred. "Just a little further," he murmured, pushing through the pain.

When he finally reached the cabinet, he grasped the handle and pulled it open, but just as he did, Jeonghan emerged from the hallway, his hair tousled and eyes bleary from sleep. "Seungcheol! What are you doing?" he exclaimed, noticing how pale and weak his leader looked.

But before Seungcheol could respond, the dizziness overwhelmed him. "I just need—" he started to say, but his legs buckled beneath him.

"Seungcheol!" Jeonghan shouted, rushing forward as Seungcheol collapsed to the ground.