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ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ’ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ
She isn’t here.
I’m sitting at our usual table in the back corner of the class, alone, watching the door, and waiting for her. Where is she? Is she late?
Half an hour later, I am still alone.
I pull out my phone, checking for any messages from her. There are none. Not that she ever messages me. I am usually the one to reach out first.
Where are ya, ari-yaaa
I wait for her reply for the entire two-hour duration of the class. At one point, our tutor calls on me, and I can barely give him a coherent sentence in response. He gives up on me and asks someone else, someone who isn’t glancing at their phone every ten seconds, clutching it desperately in their hand like their life depends on it.
Something is wrong.
I leave the class with my hood over my head and my bag slung on one shoulder, deciding to check the union house food court. Maybe she’s there, waiting for me, and for some random reason, she couldn’t make it to our two hour class that starts at ten in the morning.
But she’s not there. Of course she isn’t, and since I’m starving, I have no choice but to sit at a table by myself to eat. But then I spot someone at subway, someone I haven’t seen in a while.
“Hyung!” I run up to him, and his eyes widen as he holds out a hand for me to take, pulling him toward me in a brotherly hug.
“Taehyung! I haven’t seen you since the first week, man! How’s it going?” he asks me in Korean.
I beam at him. “It’s going very good, Namjoon-hyung. I’m so glad you’re here, come on, let’s eat together!”
I yank his arm and lead us both to a table. He is about to sit, but I stop him, pulling out his chair for him. “Wow, I have such a kind and considerate dongsaeng!” he exclaims as I sit in front of him, peeling the lid of my ramen cup.
“Of course, I have to be kind and considerate to my hyung, especially when he is graduating soon, and I won’t be seeing him as much.”
Namjoon chuckles as he unwraps his sub. “You know I’ll be doing my master’s degree next year, so I’ll still be around. But why haven’t I seen you lately? Have you been skipping classes again?” His tone becomes stern and very hyung-like, and I shake my head.
“No, no, I go to all of my classes now. Especially media,” I can’t help my smile, and Namjoon raises his eyebrows.
“Media? Ah, that’s right, it’s your breadth isn’t it? You must be enjoying it, right?”
“Oh, yeah, hyung, it’s the best! My favourite subject! But…”
“Oh, shit! Not again!” Namjoon wails in despair as his sub falls apart in his hands, its meaty contents spilling onto the table. I laugh in the middle of slurping up some noodles at my hyung who somehow always manages to make a complete mess of anything he touches.
“Yah, hyung, didn’t I tell you to stop eating subway?”
Namjoon scowls at me as he mops up the mess he made with a napkin, giving up half way when he realizes there’s only so much a napkin can do.
“Anyway, what were you saying?” Namjoon asks in English, so I decide to also continue in English.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, stirring my noodles slowly and looking down.
“What do you mean by that, Taehyung?”
I sigh, my eyes meeting his warm yet worried gaze. “Namjoon, I need advice. On a lot of things.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to help you, Taehyung. What is it?” his dimples appear as he smiles at me, but I can’t return the smile back. Not quite.
“There’s this…friend…of mine,” I begin. “In my media class.”
“What about him?”
“Oh, it’s…he’s a girl.”
“Transgender?”
I nearly spit out my noodles. “No! Hyung, no! Not like that!” I laugh.
“Taehyung, just spit it out, you always beat around the bush,” Namjoon frowns, and I swallow my mouthful before continuing.
“I think I…I mean, she’s really…I wish that I could…”
“Taehyung, you’re really frustrating me, just say it!” Namjoon urges with his mouth full of food, and Namjoon never talks with his mouth full.
“I really li –” I feel a buzz in my pocket, and I hastily grab my phone, almost dropping it as I check the screen.
i’m sorry tae i’m not feeling well today…
“Namjoon, I gotta go,” I stand up so fast that my chair clatters to the floor, and Namjoon watches me with wide eyes.
“Why –”
“She needs me.”
I leave him with those three words and my unfinished cup of noodles as I sprint out of the union house and across the road to the tram stop, catching the first tram there. I know where she lives now, and as I slam myself into a seat, I hastily type a response.
stay right there aria i’m coming
★
ᴀʀɪᴀ’ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ
He’s coming.
I don’t know why I told him I’m not feeling well, especially when I knew he would want to come, but it is for that specific reason that I texted him. Because deep down, I want him to come.
I was always the suffer in silence kind of person. I didn’t like burdening others with my own personal pain, especially if it’s temporary. But today…
I woke up in a sweat, and not because I had one too many layers over me, but because my body was fighting something. An invader of the worst kind. One that makes you a prisoner in your own body so that nothing else is possible than to curl up into a shivering ball and pass out.
My mother left for work while I was in a daze of icy perspiration and convulsions, not even checking on me. She never needs to, because she trusts me, and knowing her, she would have been too caught up in her hangover to remember me. I was sure during my hazy unconscious state I heard her throwing up in the bathroom, and then laughing as she spoke on the phone to someone, perhaps an old friend? Maybe she is meeting up with them now…
I am so weak, so completely drained of any flicker of energy that would give me the ability to stop shivering – do fevers usually last this long? – and leave this bed in search of food, water, or medication…
I am so out of it, that it doesn’t occur to me that Taehyung coming means he will see me in this wretched state, and I find myself losing consciousness once again.
★
ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴɢ’ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ
The door is unlocked.
I enter tentatively, drinking in my surroundings. The hall is so narrow, and I spot a picture on the wall of a young girl with a toothless smile and pigtails, wearing a nemo t-shirt and bright green shorts as she poses in front of an ocean, holding a starfish in her sand-encrusted hands out to the camera proudly. I crack a smile, feeling something tug at my heart, but I ignore it as I see the stairs. She must be up there.
The house is eerily silent, the only sounds being the faint humming of the refrigerator and the ticking of a clock. I trudge up the stairs, not before removing my shoes first, ensuring that I am as quiet as possible. The next level is just as cramped as the lower, with only three rooms, including the bathroom, which is the only source of natural light. I am suddenly very aware of how strange this is, walking into someone else’s house uninvited, and trying to find my own way through. Is this how thieves feel like?
I shake that thought out of my head as I remember my own regretful times as a thief, except I never robbed a house. If I did, I don’t think I could live with myself.
Her room is closed. I pause before it, wondering if I should knock. But what if she’s asleep? Or worse, passed out? I have seen enough in my life to know the difference.
Eventually, I decide to just crank the door open just a centimeter and peek inside. Sure enough, I can make out the dark outline of a body swathed in blankets. She is facing the other way, but I can still see the top of her head poking out of the covers, lying as still as a statue until suddenly, she stirs, whimpering. My heart clenches in my chest as she rotates to the other side, my side, and that’s when I finally see how unwell she really is. A film of perspiration glistens on her ashen skin and she is shaking, her teeth chattering behind her lips. Strands of ebony hair cling to her cheeks, and all I want to do is brush them away.
I can’t bear to see her like this.
I slip into the room and halt beside her bed, biting my nail as I suddenly become shy. What do I do?
I wish I could call Namjoon-hyung right now and ask him, but there is nothing he can tell me that I don’t already know.
Come on, Taehyung! You came all this way, so do something!
I crouch before her so that I am basically face to face with her sleeping one and press the back of my hand to her forehead. Shit. She’s scorching.
She needs a damp towel, I think as I stand up again. I better go get it before she w –
I’m about to turn around when I hear a small voice. “Taehyung?”
I slowly spin on one heel to face her again, and I notice that her eyes are still closed, but I definitely didn’t imagine her saying my name. This house is too silent to imagine things.
“Aria,” I exhale, almost in relief. “Aria, I’m going to take care of you, okay?”
She doesn’t respond, and I’m about to leave but then a hand snatches mine while a voice whispers, “Thank you.”
I look down at our hands, and then I look at her, squinting up at me, but then, just like that, she is asleep again, dropping my hand, so I go, embarking on a quest to keep my promise.
I’m going to take care of you.
★
ᴀʀɪᴀ’ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ
Slipping in and out of consciousness is a beautiful thing. Nothing feels real, yet everything is, but you are unaware of it. Someone strokes your hair, presses a deliciously cold damp towel to your burning skin and whispers reassurances to you, making you feel like a delicate infant. My memories are foggy, but I am sure at one point I was sat up and forced to drink a glass of water to wash down some pills. And then I was told to lie down again as sheets were tucked around me and I melted into a different kind of sleep that felt rejuvenating.
It is from this sleep that I finally awake, my body feeling heavy but less feverish, and I can smell something hot and delicious coming my way.
“What happened?” I mumble as I sit up, and as soon as I do something wet and heavy falls into my lap. A towel. I pick it up, staring at it in bemusement. Who…
“Oh, good, you’re up!” A familiar voice exclaims, and I blink up at the dark figure, still groggy. “How’re you feeling? Are you better?“
He sets something ceramic and hot onto my bedside table and then fumbles for the window, muttering to himself as he opens the blinds, bathing my bedroom in daylight and making me wince, hiding under my covers.
“Sorry, is it too bright? I’ll put it down.” The light behind my eyelids dims just slightly, but I remain hidden, cocooned in my warm bed. I feel the bed sink down as he sits, and then I am exposed as the sheets are torn away from me. I cover my face with my hands.
“Don’t look at me, I’m disgusting!” I shriek behind my palms, and I hear him chuckle.
“I don’t care, I’m not here to judge your appearance. Here, eat this.”
A bowl is pushed toward me, and I sit up properly, taking the bowl in my hands. It’s warm, brimming with soup and nutrition. My stomach growls happily and I laugh sheepishly. “I haven’t eaten today,” I admit. Taehyung grabs the spoon from me and scoops up some soup, blowing on it gently before bringing it up to my lips. I accept it with a slight groan of satisfaction, since hunger makes me shameless, and he laughs at me.
“Who’s the big baby now?” He teases as he brings another spoonful to my mouth, and I frown.
“I’m not a –” he pushes the spoon into my open mouth, scrunching his face up in laughter as I am immediately silenced, the warm tasty liquid sliding down my esophagus and filling my gut with happiness.
“Aigoo, look at you,” he pinches my cheek, and I glare at him.
“I can feed myself from now on, thanks,” I snatch the spoon from him and he laughs heartily, watching me closely. I don’t pay mind to his gaze on me as I eat but as soon as I finish – which doesn’t take long considering how starving I was – I start to feel self-conscious.
“Uh, thank you,” I push the bowl toward him, avoiding his eyes, and hastily start raking my fingers through my tangled hair as he places the bowl on the bedside table again. When he returns, my hair is less reminiscent of a homeless woman’s and more like me on a casual day at home, yet I am still flustered by his heavy gaze.
“Better?” he asks, and I nod, smiling. It’s so surreal to have him here, sitting in front of me on my bed, illuminated by the light of my window, but here he is, wearing his usual dark hoodie, looking like his usual rumpled self.
“I didn’t expect you to come, but…I’m glad you did,” I confess, and the corners of his lips lift into a smile.
“I’m glad I did too. You really worried me, Aria,” his voice is serious now, and I gulp at how sincere he sounds. He was worried about me?
“You were worried?”
“Of course! You never skip our media classes,” he grins. “Plus, you left me all alone, and you know I hate being alone.”
“I don’t,” I blurt out, and something flashes in Taehyung’s eyes, but I can’t quite catch what it is.
“No one actually enjoys being alone, Aria. When people say that, it’s not true,” he says quietly.
“But I do! Being alone is peaceful and –”
“Lonely,” Taehyung interrupts. I blink at him, and he licks his lips before continuing. “Aria, if I didn’t come, what would have happened to you, huh? Can you tell me that?”
His tone of voice scares me, and I am reminded of how scary he can be, which I witnessed firsthand last night. Wow, was it just last night?
“I…don’t know,” I mumble, staring at my hands.
“You wouldn’t be sitting up like how you are now and talking, would you? You wouldn’t have gotten better,” his words are sharp, and I wonder why he’s so triggered all of a sudden. “How long before someone finds you like that? When does your mum come home?”
“Around five,” I whisper.
“How many hours is that? Way too long, Aria, way too long,” Taehyung sounds tired now, and I sneak a glance at him. He really does look tired. “Too long for someone to be alone and sick with the flu.”
“The flu?” I echo in realization. Oh my God, I have the flu! “Taehyung, you shouldn’t be here, then! You’re gonna get sick too!”
Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t care. All that matters is that you feel better now.”
I am at a loss for words. Why is he making me sound so important? Who sacrifices their own health for someone else’s? Only parents and nurses do that, so why is he still here?
“Taehyung, I feel like I owe you my life now,” I chuckle out. “What can I do to repay you?”
Taehyung is silent, but I can feel his eyes on me, eyes that I dare to meet now, letting them consume my soul. He’s close, so close that I can feel his breath, and he licks his lips, that nervous habit of his, before saying in a low voice, “Take care of me too.”
I frown, wondering what he means by that, and I’m about to ask, “What do you mean?” when suddenly his lips, those same lips he ran his tongue over, are on mine, and the distance between us is no more.
【★】
to be continued…
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