SEVENTEEN | SICKFICS - HURTFICS I

JeongCheol | Appendicitis Part II

The hours passed slowly as Jeonghan lay on the couch, his body a burning furnace from the fever. He started to feel pain in his abdomen, a sharp, unbearable, stabbing sensation that only seemed to worsen the longer he stayed still. He could feel his heartbeat in his temples, a constant throb that refused to let him forget how sick he was. Yet, he didn't want to move. He didn't want to disturb the stillness of the house or bother anyone with his condition, not even Seungcheol, despite how badly he needed him right now.

He had long stopped crying out in frustration or pleading for attention. In the beginning, he might have done that-expressed his hurt, his anger at being ignored, at feeling invisible. But not anymore. That part of him had shriveled up under the weight of too many silent nights, too many unspoken words.

When his phone buzzed, Jeonghan's already weak hand fumbled to grab it. His vision was blurry, his head spinning, but he still managed to check the message. It was from Seungcheol.

I can't come home tonight. I have a lot of work to do. I might be home the day after tomorrow.

Jeonghan's heart sank, but he didn't let himself react. This was nothing new. His boyfriend's work had become the center of his life, and Jeonghan had learned to accept that. If anything, this message was almost expected.

He stared at the screen for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. The words he wanted to send were right there on the tip of his tongue-I need you. Please come home. But he swallowed those words, pushing them back deep inside, the way he had been doing for months.

Instead, he typed out a short reply, trying to keep his voice light and understanding, even though his heart felt like it was breaking a little more with each passing second.

"It's fine. Take care and don't forget to eat your meals."

He sent the message before he could change his mind, placing the phone on the coffee table and pulling his knees to his chest, curling into a ball as the pain in his abdomen surged again. He clutched at his stomach, groaning quietly, but quickly silenced it with the back of his hand, biting his lip as he tried to bear the discomfort. He knew that if he let himself show any sign of weakness, if he let himself feel too much, it would only hurt more.

Tomorrow, he told himself, Tomorrow will be better. The lie was the only thing he had to hold onto in that moment, the only thing keeping him from fully breaking down.

So, despite the fever that burned through him like wildfire and the pain that had become nearly unbearable, Jeonghan lay there, doing his best to sleep it off. He pulled the blanket around him tightly, trying to block out the shivers that racked his body, trying to force his mind into a place of rest.

He could hear the sounds of the world continuing around him-the distant hum of the city outside, the quiet tick of the clock on the wall, and the constant rhythm of his own heartbeat in his ears. But within the walls of that mansion, he felt utterly alone, as though he were a ghost, fading more and more with each passing day.

And so, in the silence, with his heart heavy and his body aching, Jeonghan finally let himself drift into an uneasy, restless sleep, hoping that tomorrow, when he woke up, things would feel just a little bit better.

The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting faint shadows in the quiet house, but it did nothing to ease the weight pressing down on Jeonghan's chest. The night had been a restless blur, the fever making him toss and turn, his body drenched in sweat, his stomach churning with pain. Every breath felt shallow, each moment of stillness broken by waves of nausea and the ache in his abdomen that never seemed to let up. He had tried to sleep it off, just like he promised himself, but the pain had only gotten worse with the passing hours.