#p;strength

Godfrey moaned, rolling onto his side. Chemotherapy wasn't going the way he wanted it to - but after only his second round of it, he knew that he wasn't adjusted yet.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He heard a voice from the doorway, but couldn't muster up the strength to turn and face it. If there was anything that Godfrey truly hated, it was feeling weak. And he was sure he had never felt quite so weak in his entire life.

The man offered a slight groan in response, forcing himself to roll over onto his back. "I feel fantastic." He laughed weakly, eliciting a soft laugh from the nurse. She crossed the room to his bedside, leaning down to place a hand on his forehead.

"You have a slight fever, but it's not as bad as earlier, so that's good." She pulled back, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know, you're way too tall for these beds. We really need to get you a different one."

Godfrey had hardly noticed - he spent so much time curled up into a ball that it didn't matter that his full 196cm frame didn't fit in the tiny bed. He answered with a small belch, causing him to clamp his hand over his mouth. "I need--"

That was all he needed to say before the nurse rushed over with a plastic basin that Godfrey was all too familiar with. His stomach clenched, and he dry-heaved a few times, the nurse rubbing his back soothingly. "You probably don't have anything in your system to get rid of. You haven't eaten or drunk anything in days," she murmured. She was definitely right - all Godfrey managed to spit up was bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Maybe I should eat more sweets. At least then this would at least taste better," Godfrey laughed, the nurse rolling her eyes.

"Right, because sweets would make you feel better." Her gaze fixed on Godfrey for a moment, and the male laid back in bed, placing a hand on his own forehead. "Is your sister coming in today?"

Godfrey's heart jumped, which only made his stomach churn more. "No, she can't come today," he sighed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I-- She's coming, but... please don't let her in." Tears prickled behind his eyelids, and he allowed them to flutter shut. There was only one person in this world whom Godfrey cherished above his job and his own livelihood, and that was his sister, Yoonjo. He was the older brother. He was supposed to take care of her.

But here he was, in a hospital bed all the way across Seoul. The furthest he had ever been away from her. And he wasn't strong. He couldn't be strong for her now, and he didn't want her to be strong for him. "You know she just wants to see you, Godfrey," the nurse frowned, resting a hand on Godfrey's thin shoulder. "She always calls and asks about you. She worries about you so much."