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His breath uneven, he holds onto the sleeve of the other, tugging it slightly. The latter turns around and sends a soft smile, eyes soft and head slightly inclined to the side.
"Umm, could you maybe-"
"YAH, WOOYOUNG-AH WHERE ARE YOU? WE GOTTA GO OR WE'LL BE LATE!!"
San shakes the dorm searching for Wooyoung as he opens the door of the shared room, gazing at the two.
"Ah, were you two doing something? Sorry Sangie," his wears a smile small, slightly guilty, "Wooyoung and I have a cinema date that starts in fifteen minutes."
Yeosang, attempting slow and even breaths, utters not a word, but nods as his hand lets go of Wooyoung's sleeve. The latter no longer looks at him with worried eyes, but at the taller man, with star struck, loving eyes. He quickly makes his way towards San who then takes his hand and nods towards Yeosang. With a final; "bye Sangie, we'll see you later!" Yeosang is, again, left alone in the dorm as the final click of the door signifies the last pair's departure.
Yeosang, in a haze, hesitatingly lifts his aching body from his bed. Once standing straight, his world starts spinning, and his vision becomes blurry as he staggers forward. Slowly making his way towards the kitchen, he holds onto the wall for support. Yet, he stumbles over his own feet, and in a failed attempt to ease his mind with simple breathing, it gets heavier. The veins in his head feel as if their about to explode. The thoughts in his head are clouded by pain and agony. The beating of his heart ring in his ears. He clutches the cotton clothes above his deafening heart, seeking out some sort of comfort and relief.
Finally making it to the kitchen, he reaches for the highest cabinet and slowly pulls out a tray lined with an array of different medicated drugs. He takes out some relief medicine and proceeds to down a couple tablets.
"I'll just pack it up later," slurring his speech, he quietly mumbles to himself.
He leaves the tray on the counter, and makes his way towards the couch. He closes his eyes, slumping onto the couch, back leaning against the wide back, and feet propped on the hill of a fallen blanket. The silence is exhausting, instead of the chatter of people, all he can head is the chatter of his mind. It talks to itself, yet words, phrases, and ideas remain unknown to him as all he can do is scrunch his nose, ball his fists, attempt to even his breathing, ... and cry. He sobs into the empty room, violent outbursts of tears, as he chokes and gasps for air. He slides down the couch, holding his knees to his chest, head resting on top. He slowly rocks himself, back and forth, before falling to the side, hazy head hitting the ground.
*
He stretches out his arms, arching his back and pointing his toes. Yawning, his eyes flutter open exposing him to the dark room with only the city lights, dimly they give the room enough light to allow his the ability to see. He sits up from his awkward position at the feet of the couch, crossing his legs and slouching his back against the bed, head turned to the side as it rests on the coffee table, watching the night sky. In the centre of the window, he notices three purple lighted apartments, two blue, and another two are pink, all of which are centred in a group, they’re seven of the eight apartments to be lit with a something colourful. But not too far from these seven, is a dimmer red light, it looks to be apart of the same group as it is only one apartment away from the rest, yet because of this, it seems a little far away to be considered so, likewise the colours don’t match, and it’s a bit too dim.
He stretches out his arms, arching his back and pointing his toes. Yawning, his eyes flutter open exposing him to the dark room with only the city lights, dimly they give the room enough light to allow his the ability to see. He sits up from his awkward position at the feet of the couch, crossing his legs and slouching his back against the bed, head turned to the side as it rests on the coffee table, watching the night sky. In the centre of the window, he notices three purple lighted apartments, two blue, and two pink, all of which are centred in a group, these seven apartments are crowded with people. But not too far from these seven, is a dimmer red light, it looks to be apart of the same group as it is only one apartment away from the rest, yet it seemed a little too far away to be considered so, likewise the the dark red didn't match the bight colours, and it’s a bit too dim. Though the people seem to be having so much fun in that red dim apartment while he sit in the dark and watch. He moves closer to the window, cross legged, hunched back and his arms rest in his lap as his head lean against the clear glass.
He stays like that for a while, he doesn't know how long, but he sits there watching the apartment lights turn off one by one as the occupants start to sleep. As if on queue, right when the last apartment of red lights is turned off, the lights in the living room are turned on. Yeosang doesn't turn around, he doesn't move, he doesn't even realise the lights are on. He only watches the world from the window, the bustle of a handful of people below and looks above to see the dazzling night sky, as the contrast of the bright and beautiful stars decorate the dark canvas.
A hand finds its way to his shoulder, startling him enough to smack the hand away and turn around so fast he hits his head against the window. Alongside his already tired and hazy mind, the hit creates a loud ringing in his ears and immense pain in his head. Seven figures stand in front of him, they mutter and whisper something he cannot comprehend, shuffling about and reaching out to him. Noticing the seven got home together, most likely meeting up without him, tears start to sting his eyes. He gets up as quickly as he can, not wanting the others to see his tears, but he loses his coordination getting up and falls headfirst to the hard wooden surface. Without missing a beat, someone has lifted him up and he struggles he break free. Resting Yeosang on their lap, he takes this as a means to exit, carefully standing and walking towards his bed, making sure to place one foot on the ground after the other.
He falls into his bed, wrapping himself in his blanket, hiding himself from the world. He lays still and attempts to fall back asleep. Tears finally fall from his eyes, his breathing grows heavy, and his mind hurts more than ever before. There isn't a shuffle of footsteps towards his room, nor any murmuring or chatting from his roommates. It's as quiet as when they weren't at home, yet it feels more suffocating than before. Knowing they're only a few rooms away, his heart breaks at the thought that they never really was cared for or liked to the extent where they would care for him. Heart growing heavy, his senses become numb, crying himself to sleep.
*
“Yeosang? Yeosangie?” the repetitive words are endless yet quiet and soft, somewhat comforting to his ears.
Yeosang can only grunt in response, too groggy and tired to form any proper words. He turns onto his side, tightly hugging his blanket to his chest as he listens to the words spoken by the latter. Though the words sound like riddles, foreign to his ears, as the softness of the voices lulls him to sleep once again.
*
He feels icky. Hot. Sticky. He kicks his legs and flings his arms around. Tossing and turning as the heat on his skin grows unbearable. His hyperventilating, gasping for air and crying for any sense of relief from the heat of the sun. Yet his eyes stay closed as he cannot muster the energy to look for help, nor open his mouth to call for help.
A pair of hands reach his shoulders, shaking him violently as a voice calls out to him. His body becomes numb, his movements stop but his eyes flutter open. There stands a looming man watching him with wide eyes and messy hair. Besides him two other men, behind is another three, and two who he can hear quickly run to the room, pushing their way to the front to see Yeosang. Yeosang who is as pale as a ghost, hot to touch, shivering with goose bumps covering his body, watches them with scared and unsure eyes.
Seonghwa speaks first, “What’s wrong Yeosang? Are you alright?”
Yeosang stares at him, before slightly shaking his head.
“What’s ‘no’? Come on Yeosangie don’t fall back asleep, stay with us, yeah?”
His eye lids become heavy, threatening to fully close, allowing him to fall back asleep. But he listens to the words, attempting to keep himself awake.
“Do you wanna talk?”
He shakes his head again.
“That’s alright, okay? Mingi, can you go get the meds?”
Someone hurriedly exits the room, quickly running back in with a glass of water and a tray of bottles full of medicated medicines. Hongjoong opens a few, passing them to San who feeds them one by one to Yeosang who is now held up by Wooyoung as Seonghwa helps him drink the water. By the end, Yeosang is too awake to fall back asleep but he still feels groggy and sick, so he walks out the room with the members following him like little chicks. Walking out, the living room is brightly lit up from the sun outside with seven half-full plates on the dining table. His heart sinks, they ate without him? It’s fine though, all he has to do is find more food in the fridge, and so he does. He searches through the contents finding nothing for him to eat, but continues to do so as the others watch him with worry.
“Are you hungry Sangie?”
He nods instinctively at the question. The latter then pulls him to the table and sits him in front of a full plate of food, that looks to be newly set, not there when he first entered the living room. Wooyoung gestures for everyone to take their seats, then proceeds to grab a spoon full of food from Yeosang’s plate and feeds it to him. Yeosang reluctantly takes it, relishing the taste of the home made meal.
“How long have you been sick Sangie? Yesterday morning?”
He nods at the questions, sparking a few murmurs within the group as he continues to eat the food Wooyoung gives him. Wooyoung, too, looks a bit saddened at his responses but nonetheless keeps his smile unlike the others who share worried glances. It didn’t take long for the group to finish, Yeosang filling his stomach which hasn’t any substance intake within the nearly 36 hours.
He quietly murmurs a thanks before moving towards his room where his members comfort him to sleep. Now, he feels at peace, though still a little hurt, but feels loved in this moment and wishes they could last forever. His eyes close, as someone covers him with the blanket, another strokes his hair, and someone talks soothingly which soothe him to sleep.
“We’ll always be here, okay? Don’t be afraid and talk to us... Love you.”
Imagining a peaceful conversation when he wakes up, confiding the others in his worries, he can’t help but smile. He sleep like a baby that day, anticpating the love he’ll receive when he wakes.