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“Don’t look at me.”
Taehyung shows up to class the next day with a black mask on, hiding himself into the folds of his hoodie. His hair is a tousled mess, and judging from the redness of his eyes, it is safe to conclude that he is, in fact, sick.
“I’m not here to judge your appearance,” I speak the same words he said to me when he came into my room with a bowl of hot chicken soup, straight from the packet. Five days later, and he is finally showing symptoms. “So now you’re sick too?”
He nods as he pulls out his laptop, coughing in the process. “I – probably – shouldn’t -“
“Have kissed me? Yeah, I agree, I told you it was stupid,” I murmur as the tutor begins the lesson.
He shakes his head, coughing a little more. “No, I don’t regret anything,” his eyes crinkle up in what I assume is a smile, but it’s hard to tell with the mask obscuring his mouth. “If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change anything that day. But I do regret coming tod -” his sentence is swallowed by another round of coughs, so I slap his back. Hard.
“Ah, Aria!” he exclaims, and the whole class turns to stare at the boy in the face mask and the girl who made him cry out in pain. Awkward.
“Sorry,” Taehyung’s voice is slightly muffled, but by then everyone has lost interest, or at least, the majority have, with a few lingering stares watching us. Judging us.
“Why’s he wearing that thing on his face?” a girl near me inquires in a loud whisper, so I lean toward her and say, “It’s to hide his ugly face from the world.”
For a second it seems as if the girl believes me, but then she tilts her head to the side with a quirky smile. “Oh, but isn’t it, like, to prevent contamination or something?”
“Yeah, exactly! Don’t want his ugliness to spread – hey!”
I whip my head back to Taehyung, who has just pinched my arm, subtly, but hard enough for me to feel it. Once again, the class’s attention is diverted, and I chuckle sheepishly before sending death glares at Taehyung. He leans forward, lowering his mask just slightly to whisper, “Hey, Aria, don’t go spreading lies, okay? Everyone here knows I’m anything but ugly, got it?”
I snort. “Do you really -“
I am interrupted by a finger on my lips, shushing me. “Sshh, Aria, the teacher’s talking. Be respectful.”
“Yah, when we get out of here I’m going to -“
“You two are awfully chatty today, care to share some thoughts?” our tutor addresses us, and I want to disappear into thin air.
“Nope, we’re good,” I squeak, sinking in my seat.
“Just couple stuff, don’t worry,” Taehyung adds, waving a hand. Now it’s my turn to pinch him.
“Ow!”
“Stop!”
“You stop!”
At the end of the lesson, the girl, whose name is Stella, says to us, “You guys are cute together. Like, seriously, goals.”
“Goals?” I want to laugh, but then Taehyung slings an arm around me.
“We are totally goals,” he chimes in with a grin.
And now I want to puke.
“Why am I dating you again?” I wonder aloud as we exit the classroom. His arm is still around me as we walk, and I almost feel like we are conjoined twins or something from the way he never leaves my side.
“Because I’m cute,” Taehyung responds to my semi-rhetorical question.
I scrutinize him. “Nah, I don’t see it.”
“Should I do aegy -“
“Don’t you dare,” I warn him in a dark tone, and he laughs behind his mask.
“Well, it must be because I’m a totally cool guy, I mean just look at me,” he breaks away from my side to swagger ahead of me, performing some kind of trendy dance move that I am not familiar with. I cross my arms, unimpressed.
“Hm, that’s not it either.”
His shoulders slump and if he weren’t wearing that mask he’d be pouting. But this stance is soon replaced by a spark in his eyes as he marches back to me, determined. “I know!”
“What?” I raise an eyebrow, interested to see what he knows.
“Because of my big heart,” he winks, grabbing my hand and placing it on his chest where the palpitations are palpable.
“Do you feel it beating?”
I nod, blinking at him.
“It beats for you, Aria.”
I scoff, pulling my hand away. “Ah, I told you to stop!”
Taehyung gasps, gripping his heart. “You want me to stop my heart?”
“What? No, that’s not what I -“
He pretends to stab his heart, dramatically collapsing onto the floor. The people around us give him strange looks, but he can’t see them because he has his eyes closed. After ten seconds, people start giving me strange looks, and I have to assure them that he is just acting, he’s not hurt, no, I don’t need you to call an ambulance.
“Get up, idiot,” I kick his leg lightly, but he still doesn’t move, so I sink to my knees and prod him further. “Come on, Taehyung, stop playing around, it’s not -“
I press a palm to his forehead and pull back with a gasp. He has a fever.
“Taehyung, are you okay?” I hold his face in my hands, and he moans a bit, mumbling. “What? I can’t hear you, wait, can you repeat that?” I lean my ear closer to his mouth, or where his mouth should be, and that’s when I hear him.
“Aria, I’m really tired. I want to go home.”
He sits up slowly, grabbing his head, and that’s when I notice that he is trembling. Instinctively, I grip his arm. How did he get worse in just a matter of minutes?
“Did you take medicine?” I ask, and he nods.
“I took these,” he pulls out a silver square studded with unopened purple capsules, and I take it from his hand to inspect them. They were the same tablets I took, the ones for cough, cold and flu, except…
“Taehyung, were there two types of tablets in the packet?”
“Yeah, the purple and the green ones, but I chose the purple because it’s my favourite colour,” he says in a way that is child-like and innocent. I try not to laugh.
“Taehyung, do you know the difference between the two tablets?” I ask.
“Yeah, the colour,” Taehyung replies, as if it’s obvious.
“No, Taehyung, that’s not it,” I release a chuckle, shaking my head. “The tablet you took, the purple ones, are for night time.”
“They are?”
“Yes, Taehyung-ssi, which means they will make you feel drowsy,” I explain.
“Oh, that makes sense,” he yawns, resting his head on my arm for just a moment.
“Taehyung, you can’t sleep here,” I push his head away and stand up, grabbing his hands. “Come on, I’ll help you stand.”
He groans as I drag him to his feet. Once he is at full height he falls into my arms, his chin digging into my shoulder. I struggle underneath his weight.
“Taehyung, you’re too – heavy -” I grunt.
“Must be my big heart,” he murmurs, and I crack a smile.
“Of course, it must be. Come on, big heart guy, let’s go,” I finally push him off enough for me to be at his side, holding his arm as we slowly walk into the street together. How can the sun shine so brightly, when Taehyung is so sick?
“Do you want to stop somewhere?” I ask him after we have crossed one road successfully.
“The park,” he utters out, so that’s where we go.
There are children at the park this time, and a couple cute dogs. On a normal day, Taehyung would go and say hello to them and chatter about how cute they are, but today, he slams himself onto a park bench with me right next to him, bringing his legs up to lie down, eventually using my lap as a pillow.
“Aria, I’m sorry I came to class today,” he says sleepily. “I should’ve stayed home.”
“No, you should’ve read the package of the flu tablets, idiot,” I pat his head. “But at least I get to repay you now, right?”
No response. I assume he is asleep, so I leave a kiss on his forehead, something I’m still not brave enough to do while he’s awake, or while I’m fully awake. I wasn’t myself in my fever-stricken stupor last week, yet at the same time, I don’t think I ever felt more alive, even in my death-like state. His first kiss awakened me, and now my last kiss sends him to dreamland, a place where he can skip and play without the barriers of his health stopping him. A place where he can be happy.
And I love seeing him happy.
Buzzzz.
Oh, wonderful. A phone call. And it’s from none other than my wonderful mother.
“Hello?” I answer in a whisper so that I don’t disturb sleeping beauty, but then again, there are dogs barking and children screaming here, so I guess he’s a deep sleeper.
“Aria, please come home right away.”
She’s crying.
“Eomma, what happened?” my voice rises with panic as I listen to her sobs on the other side of the phone.
“Aria, they’re going to take everything away from us. The shop, the house – everything!”
“What do you mean?” my heartbeat thrums in my eardrums like a thousand soldiers as my blood runs cold. “Who’s they?”
“The debt collectors! We’ve gone bankrupt, Aria!” she continues to wail. “We don’t have enough money!”
“Wait, why? Where’s all the money gone?” I interrogate, my heart beating faster and faster.
“Just come home, Aria! Please, come home right now!”
She hangs up, and I am left in a blanket of confusion and sleeping Taehyung.
What are we going to do?
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