can i request a seonghyeon angsty fic?? i love ur writing so bad😭😭
⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆— in which a girl that’s never been cared for discovers what it’s like to not be invisible for once.
⋆˚꩜｡CW and warnings! nonidol!seonghyeonxfem!reader, reader is a glass child , seonghyeon has a sister (lets pretend she’s older), reader’s parents don’t care for the reader much, mentions of food disorders, mentions of neglect, mentions of fainting, mentions of sickness, reader lowk depressed but she can’t realize it yet bc she don’t act like that around her friends. reader has insomnia and she sleepwalks alot (will be crucial in plot!!) i thinkkkkk that’s it lol
☘️— ppl mentioned : All of cortis (i acc dk if i included them or not..) , h2h! Yuha and Ye-on
⠀₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ A/N : here ya go lololol!! i hope i did your ask some justice although i alr know this is ass…. 💔💔
dividers by : @dividers4u
tl : @h0neylemon @spiracle022222 @swaganometryzoommz @antonsswimssuit
wc!7.4k
.
The house was empty, and you were alone. Again. They all went to the hospital, you guessed it had something to do with your brother, maybe he’d been feeling worse.
It’s always been like this.
This two or three days out of the week where you were utterly alone.
It wasn’t all that bad but it wasn’t a nice feeling either. At first you had celebrated because “you had the house all to yourself”, later on you just scurried back to sleep and hoped they’d be there by the afternoon.
It was selfish. You knew that. You knew that wanting them around was selfish especially when his condition wasn’t getting any better.
Sometimes you wished you weren’t born so that they could take care of him without minding you—not that they did much anyways.
Sometimes, if you felt like it, you’d invite Yuha and Ye-on and Senior Eom.
But all you wanted to do today was cry it out, not have a reason to hold back.
You checked for any updates from your parents.
A steady “We might be staying for a week” floated on your screen, devastatingly so.
You replied with a lousy “Okay” that filled the chat with every message she sent you.
You wiped your tears, deciding to go shower and sleep, your empty belly rumbling in hunger, you didn’t mind it anyway, the fridge was empty and you decided to keep it that way.
It wasn’t a good habit. But it was the only thing you had control over—that’s all you wanted, to be in control of one aspect in your life.
.
You dried your hair, unplugging any remains of the heat that lingered on your head, before changing into some pajama pants and a half sleeve shirt, the bite of the AC making goosebumps appear on your freshly shaved skin.
You pulled up your covers to rest above your waist, and hugged your bear tight.
Just as you always did.
You set your alarm for school, hoping you’d actually wake up instead of sleeping through it.
.
The morning came—sunlight seeped through the windows at the crisp of 6:30 in the morning. You groaned, you didn’t want to get up but when you thought of your friends it didn’t seem like it’d be that bad.
You got ready for school, changing into the uniform you kind of dreaded putting on because the skirt was too tight around the thigh area—do they make these for skeletons or were you just extra big?
Whatever, you’d get a bigger skirt sometime soon.
You walked into the doors of the school, the smell of cheap perfume and lysol embracing your nostrils in that annoying yet nostalgic way. You met Ye-On by her locker, she was re-applying some lip balm before class started, she offered you some and you took it, brushing your hair out of your face.
You walked to class together, finding Yuha slumped in her chair, you walked up to her with a hug, startling her yet making her squeal in happiness.
You weren’t a big hugger, so that made Yuha enjoy your hugs more, since she knew they came from the heart.
Class started, and you rushed to your seat, laughing from the adrenaline boost.
.
Lunch started, and so you scurried out of your seat to find Ye-On and Yuha, all of you smiling with joy.
The friend group wasn’t complete without Senior Eom.
She was like the mom of the group, she was only a year older than you, but she felt safe, felt like a home without the smell of disinfectant and the creaking of old hospital beds, a home without worry and screams of not wanting to take medicine.
You felt bad for your brother. You really did, but you couldn’t help but feel bad for yourself too.
At least he didn’t bother you much these days.
.
You got lunch, and you usually never ate much, since you wanted to control yourself, and your friends didn’t mind much since you lied about what you would eat at home—but once in a while you would finish it.
“Yo” senior eom started, you usually called her unnie, just to be safe.
“You guys wanna stay over tonight?” she asked
“I can” Ye-On started “but not the full night, i have to go home by 12”
“Me too” Yuha said
“I can stay” you muttered
“Great” Unnie said, smiling and going back to whatever topic she was talking about.
When you got home, you changed outside of your school outfit and packed some essentials before you headed out the house, your parents didn’t know but they wouldn’t ask, they never cared enough to actually call you to check if you were okay.
Her house was a ten minute walk from yours, so you didn’t mind much, the 5pm air was still musky and chilly.
You knocked on the door once, her figure greeting you through the knob. She gave you a lazy side hug and let you in the house.
Then everyone came pooling in the house about twenty minutes later, the sound of laughter filling up the room in warm chunks, happiness radiating like nuclear bombs.
The door opened and a loud “Noona! I’m home” sounded around the room, you were all used to Seonghyeon, maybe some more than others since he was unnie’s brother. He was also in the same grade and class as you, so it wasn’t awkward for the girls.
It was for you.
Not because he was a boy, nor because he was her brother.
But because he caught you at the worst time.
One time, just once—your parents had asked you to sleep at someone’s place because your brother didn’t want to see you.
He had no reason to get angry at you, but he was mad because you were healthy and he wasn’t.
So he caused a tantrum when you got home. He broke things, punched you, threw things at you. He just didn’t want you in the house.
You walked to Eom’s house in tears, she said you’re welcome to stay at hers whenever.
But it wasn’t her who opened the door.
It wasn’t her you threw yourself at with a broken sob and a bag long forgotten on the floor.
It was Seonghyeon.
He hugged you back in an effort to comfort you, and you stayed like that for a while, until your tears dried and you realized who you were hugging.
But you didn’t care.
Not at the moment.
Because he hugged you like you mattered. Like you were something he couldn’t break.
“My sister’s in her room” he said “I’ll see you later”
And he even said that like he cared.
Gosh—just gosh did you wish it was true.
From that day on it was a bit awkward seeing him, his gaze seeing through you, not in the way that burned, but in the quiet way that was almost like he just knew you weren’t alright.
.
“My friends are over!” Unnie yelled “If you want food it’s in the fridge!”
“K!” he yelled back.
.
Ye-On and Yuha left now, their parents picking them up, and it was you and unnie now. You were closer with her, she’s basically your best friend, and she’s the one that knows the most about you, but you can’t really trust yourself around people.
You have a bad case of sleep walking—to the point that it woke your brother up once at night and you got yelled at for an hour because “what if you hurt him”
bullshit.
Whatever.
You waited for unnie to finish showering till it could be your turn, you laid your clothes on the bed and took a deep breath, reminding yourself that it’d be alright if you just didn’t sleep.
Just so nobody would be creeped out.
Just so nobody would scream at you.
Just so you wouldn’t get kicked out of the house again at 2 in the morning—wandering around the town with your flashlight on until your phone died because you were too scared to ask your friends if you could stay over.
Unnie pulled you out of your thoughts, patting you on the shoulder once before she muttered a quick “come on, get up”
And you got up—quickly as you sat down.
You smiled at her, picking your clothes up and going inside the shower.
The water was so cold it stung a little, but you liked it that way, you liked feeling the icy temperature freeze you like nothing else could. You were used to it—your parents constantly used up all the warm water for when your brother showered and when they showered, leaving you nothing but the ice cold water, so you grew to feel like you deserved that water, no matter how much you wanted it warm.
You got out—shivering but you tried to keep calm, your teeth still jittering and your hair wet, running down your back in uneven streaks.
You dried yourself and finished getting dressed, drying your hair with a towel before you could brush it and put your products in.
.
Unnie had drifted to sleep and it was about to be 2 in the morning, you slept in the same bed as her, and she was actually quite the heavy sleeper so you just stayed on your phone the whole time.
Until your eyes had given up on you.
And you drifted off to sleep, phone in hand.
.
Seonghyeon was up at 4, he was thirsty and needed a glass of water, so he went to the kitchen to fetch some before he heard footsteps make their way down from his sister’s room.
A very familiar figure made its way down the hallway, but it wasn’t his sister’s, and he knew that flow of the long hair he had once caressed and missed till then.
It was you.
And you weren’t saying a word—your eyes were glassy enough it looked like you could cry, but no tears fell, and your arms were by your side, steady, still.
It didn’t feel like you were conscious.
Which—you weren’t.
His sister had told him long ago that you sleepwalked, although she never told you that it had happened at her house, but she told him to try and wake you up as soon as it happened to avoid injury.
He walked over to you, holding your shoulder and putting a hand in front of your eyes—trying to see if they’d twitch or show any sign of you being awake.
You were dead asleep, he decided to let you walk around a while.
He stood there, observing for if you hurt yourself or not.
Until you made your way over to him, those same glassy eyes devoid of emotion looking as if they drowned.
You stopped when you felt the heat of his chest, warm and gentle.
You wrapped an arm around him, head resting on his chest, nestling deep before you abruptly walked away.
His breath hitched in his lungs at the contact, eyes wandering down at your head and cheeks flushed despite the darkness.
He was confused.
Confused was a light way to word it—even.
He was… star struck?
It wasn’t even in a bad way. Seonghyeon already knew you weren’t conscious enough to think about your actions.
He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about it in the morning—he knew you weren’t aware and that it would embarrass you, so he just kept quiet.
You didn’t have breakfast, saying it made you feel nauseous in the morning.
That was a lie.
You actually loved breakfast, but you just wanted to refuse, seemingly as that it was the only thing you could afford to refuse right now.
The only thing that you didn’t have to say yes to.
You hugged unnie goodbye and went back to your home, the place being as empty as you left it.
It was Saturday, meaning you could just lay back and relax.
You felt so empty.
It’s like you had a hole that invaded your mind and heart.It's like you’re trying to fill up a space in your heart. A space so dangerously empty it rumbles like a monster that needs feeding. It begs and begs. It takes all your control and throws it into a ditch—laughing at you when you get close to filling it up, because you never will.
But that’s just how it’s always felt. So you couldn’t care anymore.
Not for the absence of your parents.
Not for the absence of food in the fridge.
And not even for the absence in your heart.
.
It was out of nowhere, really.
a few months had passed, you ha gotten worse in the sense of health, refusing to eat to preerve the feeling of control you felt, even your uniform skirt had gotten ridiculously big on you.
You had also started warming up to Seonghyeon—not enough to actually explain to him the situation with your parents, but enough for you to greet him every time you saw him, enough to have hangouts alone here and there.
You never really expressed how you felt about your parents—you’d usually avoid the topic or just not speak when your friends mentioned theirs.
But it was obvious they made you uncomfortable.
Seonghyeon’s sister knew a little bit about them, but not enough to actually make a judgement, but she didn’t like them much.
The way you flinched when you heard the words “mom”, “dad”, and “brother” were enough for her to realize that they weren’t good people.
One day you had been over at Seonghyeon's house, he had invited you to play a game with him, which you did, him winning one round and you winning the next, the conclusion still unclear whether you had won or whether he did.
“That’s not fair!” he yelled “you cheated—let’s run it back”
You laughed, mouth open with your head thrown back, clutching your stomach tight because of how hard you were laughing.
“How many times have we run it back already!” you laughed, “can’t you just admit I won!”
“No!” He laughed,“It'll hurt my pride.”
“Just let it, Hyeon” a familiar voice rang through the room “Just admit she’s better than you, i’ve been hearing the same statement come out of your mouth for the last 2 hours”
“But noona—“ he got interrupted
“No but’s, stop stealing my friend” she giggled, pulling you up by your wrists.
Unnie walked you back as you stuck your tongue to Seonghyeon from behind her, his eyes widening and dropping in defeat.
You knew unnie didn’t care much, she just wanted you back.
It was a nice feeling to be wanted in at least one house.
Your parents were leaving on a trip with your brother soon—for his birthday.
His one condition?
For you to not come with them.
And winter break was when they’d do all this.
You just hoped they’d leave a little money for groceries, as they never really did.
Starving didn’t feel good anymore.
It was just painful—just jabs of hurt attacking your insides, and you got noticeably too thin.
Your friends were very concerned, but you brushed the topic off whenever they discussed it or brought it up.
You knew. Gosh, of course you knew that this wasn’t healthy for you, that this wasn’t doing you any good, that you looked fine before.
But it wasn’t just about how you looked.
You felt ecstatic while starving, to the point that it was like a high you reached. Your stomach rumbled with the emptiness that you felt in your heart.
It was everything you ever wanted.
.
You eventually had to go back home, your friends thought you were spending break with your family, not knowing that they were leaving—since you didn’t bring it up.
Two weeks.
That was basically solitary confinement.
At first, you had some food to eat.
Maybe the first 5 days, that was.
It clearly wasn’t enough, but it was something, and something was better than nothing.
So you texted.
They told you not to call.
Not to reach out.
It would make your brother upset.
You could handle that—you have before. But it was just disappointing. At that point that was all you could feel.
At first it was sadness. You were just a little girl and that was all you knew. You pondered on your actions—tried to see what you did wrong. Tried to act perfectly so they might just show you a little affection.
You’ve never received a hug from your mother before.
That’s why you couldn’t like them. Couldn’t fathom the fact that people get that shit without having to beg.
Then—all you felt was resentment. A hate built up so strong and deep inside of you, it felt like it rooted your existence. You never took it out on anyone, maybe just yourself. But you resented your parents—resented your brother even more for hating you and making them hate you with him.
Since his little world was so perfect without you, you figured you just wanted out of it. You wouldn’t show up at home, you wouldn’t talk to them or to him. You’d be cooped up in your room for as long as it took for them to realize they were wrong.
But that day never came.
The day that you wished for so badly never arrived. So you gave up.
Braced yourself.
That no matter what. Your parents would never love you or care for you like they cared for him—and although he was at the end of his treatment, although he was getting better.
That wouldn’t change.
You just felt envious now.
Of anyone who’s family wasn’t fucked up.
It brought you to be silently envious of your friends too. A quiet, ugly sensation filling your taste buds.Nothing tasted worse than envy—jealousy burning through your body.
Every happy birthday. Every merry christmas. Every time your friends got picked up early because they didn’t feel well. Every parent-teacher conference.
Even the regular days where they would just chill at their parents house.
Because that cost you something.
But to everyone it was a given. Something that they didn’t have to earn.
After day 5, the groceries ran out, and you didn’t have anything but water in the house.
Gosh this was like survival of the fittest.
You told yourself you’ll be fine.
Told yourself you didn’t care.
But you cared. You cared so much to the point that it broke you. It hurts you to think about. But you couldn’t cry—no tears would come out.
Then, the first day back from break started.
It was a quiet sensation, really.
You were just drowsy—but that was normal.. right?
Then you entered the school, the smell of antibacterial spray hitting your nose in waves. Every one of your senses heightened.
You greeted your friends per usual, making sure not an ounce of your natural personality had changed.
But in reality—you just weren’t feeling it.
At all.
Then, in the middle of class, it hit.
That nauseating feeling.
Your body knew something was wrong—but you just wished you wouldn’t faint at school.
You tried. You really did.
You kept your eyes open, the information that the teacher had provided you was going over your head.
Seonghyeon sat next to you.
Oh—this was also the day that your parents were supposed to be back.
How great.
He looked worried, his eyes shooting to your direction every few moments. But you didn’t want his attention. You didn’t want his pity that would come crashing in waves down your throat.
Somehow, you managed to survive a few more minutes, each one feeling borrowed from a body that had already decided it was done.
The classroom had tipped beneath you, walls bending like they had forgotten how to stand still.
The bell rang, declaring it time for lunch. So the teacher dismissed everyone and left. You had thought you were maybe okay enough to get up.
You couldn’t be more wrong.
The darkness that you were afraid of had taken all the corners of your vision, the only thing you felt was the glare of the fluorescent lights beaming from above you and the smell of the vanilla air freshener that your teacher used.
As dark as the night sky. Not a peep of light.
What scared you most wasn’t the darkness itself.
It was how warm it felt.
How gentle.
Like sinking beneath calm water after struggling to stay afloat for far too long.
Voices burst somewhere far away, muffled as though you were listening through deep water. Someone called your name. Strong arms caught you before the floor could.
Then even those distant voices unraveled into silence. The weight of your body disappeared. Pain loosened its grip. For one impossible moment, there was nothing at all.
Outside, the world operated very differently.
Something about you unsettled him the moment class began. You weren’t glaring at anyone or making sarcastic remarks like you usually did when you were irritated. Instead, you sat unnaturally still, as if every movement demanded more strength than you had left.
Like every moment owed you something.
And every few minutes, your gaze lost focus. You were beyond the classroom—beyond the explanations on formulas neither of you could comprehend. But it wasn’t that you were beyond it because you wanted to be. But because you had to breathe, as if every breath cost you, calculated.
He was speaking to you about what you’d done over break when you stood up.
You stood still.
So still it almost felt like you were listening.
For a heart beat, a singular breath.
Then you tipped.
Left.
Right.
Like a tree in a storm giving a warning before it fell and surrendered to the laws of the earth.
His hand moved before he had time to think. Fingers hovered for the briefest second, uncertain whether he’d imagined what he was seeing.
Then your knees gave out.
As quickly as he pulled his hand back, he put it on the small of your back, trying to hold your weight up so you wouldn’t get injured.
The classroom erupted around him—chairs scrambled, loud voices shouting, someone screaming to get the teacher. But it all blurred into meaningless chatter. The only thing he could focus on was the terrifying weight of you in his arms.
Ye-On and Yuha had ran up from their seats to steady you as well, not expecting you to even fall.
“Shit” Seonghyeon muttered “I’m taking her to the nurse”
He moved steadily, putting you on his back and running to the nurse’s office with Ye-On and Yuha following from next to him.
He was getting glances, everyone was staring and yelling in the midst of the crowded hallway, but he didn’t care.
Every second felt stolen.
The hallway stretched endlessly before him, crowded with curious faces and startled voices, but they were little more than blurs at the edge of his vision.
The only thing that mattered was the slow rise and fall of your breathing against his back.
Please don’t stop, he found himself thinking.
Not now.
.
As if the scene finished before it even started—you woke up.
You felt the sting of the same IV pump you hated, and you sniffed the smell of the same lysol that infected your nose with dread.
You were in the hospital.
You heard discussion from outside—a muffled voice that you presumed might be your mom or your dad was speaking to someone.
The bed dipped with your weight on it, your bones aching in the way that told you that this was enough.
You didn’t want to live like this anymore.
You didn’t want to pretend that this was okay anymore.
You slowly sat up, hands shaking and breath hollowing.
You told yourself it was because you were cold.
The blanket wasn’t pulled up enough—the blur of the ac was too much.
But you weren’t.
You couldn’t describe the dread of seeing your parents—really seeing them.
It was unsettling. Nervousness ran through your veins and into your heavy eyes, your heart skipped a beat and maybe—just maybe, you thought they’d recognize you for you.
Not for the sister that always made it convenient for her brother. Not for the pushover that left the house when they wanted her to.
But for their little girl. Their own daughter, the one that they raised with their own hands. Maybe they’d see that little girl and think that they were wrong for hurting you like this.
And it creeped into you quietly. The beep of the machine was too loud—too much for you to hear. The muffled sound of the doctor outside yelling at your parents was too strong. And the sensation that something was seriously wrong didn’t leave although you tried to rub it off your clothes.
Tears coated your eyes, finally getting the best of you. You felt your boney limbs beneath you, the beat of your heart through your ribs was the only thing anchoring you that you were still here. Still alive—although when you thought about it you cringed. You really didn’t want to be.
The door bursted open, startling you into a flinch that you never really let show. You harshly wiped your tears before more could flow out—but the sight of your parents in front of you made more build up in your iris. The problem wasn’t that they were here—the sheer pressure of their presence breaking you into something small, something vulnerable.
They brought your brother with them.
And the realization that you were nothing to them but a child that they might’ve not even wanted buried itself deep into your bones—streching into your soul.
He was glaring at you, his eyes were full of pure hate, pure resentment as he watched your limp, weak body on the hospital bed.
The doctor’s voice came sharp, cutting through you with a thousand needles that you wished had just been cutting you up so you didn’t have to face them.
“You fainted because of malnutrition” he said, eyeing your parents with an anger that he couldn’t quite place his hands on.
“I’ll leave you with your family now” his voice rang in your ear and you found yourself wishing that you could have them kicked out of the room, yet your body fought against you, craving a fake warmth that they brought along with them.
Please don’t leave me alone , You found yourself thinking, eyes shut and mouth trembling.
He closed the door with a soft click—one that made your mom’s mouth immediately open and close, her eyes wide with not an ounce of guilt.
Your hands went clammy, and suddenly you couldn’t find any warmth in the midst of her stare, you only saw the hatred and anger that was decorating her face. She couldn’t even stand to face you, that’s what it looked like, and you found yourself thinking you were being a bit stupid for thinking she might’ve cared.
Because she didn’t—you knew that.
Yet you tricked yourself day and night into believing that she won’t be like this anymore after your brother got better.
Because now he’s better. Now he doesn’t have to spend his afternoons in an old bed that creaked, he doesn't have to beg to go out on a walk.
But in that process, nobody except you was getting harmed.
And it terrified you how natural that routine became to you.
They stayed eerily calm—eerily composed, as if it wasn’t them really looking at you. As if they were puppets from another dimension coming to haunt you. To make you decide your worth based on the heaviness of their stare.
Her voice rang in your ears, pulling up memories that pained you to even think about.
“Why are you doing this to us?”
That’s what she had the nerve to ask. She saw you in that bed—bones and all. She left you in that house with not enough food to feed a toddler for two weeks and didn’t answer your texts just to ask you that stupid ass question.
Your mouth stayed shut, quivering a little when she met your eyes.
You knew she’d crash sooner or later.
Because this wasn’t the first time. She always wanted you to be in perfect condition yet never gave you what you needed to be in said condition. To her you were just a burden.
The glare of the room was too heavy, too white. This felt like a dream—more nightmare-y than anything but this still didn’t feel real at all.
You heard footsteps down the hall, you didn’t know if being frightened had heightened your senses but you felt everything so clearly, as if every emotion and sensation stung like a million bees all over your body.
Your mother kept going.
“We gave you enough food! We gave you a roof to live under, you’re spoiled!” she raised her voice, her cheeks turning into an angry shade of red.
Your mouth decided to move before you could stop it—a cracked voice escaping from your lungs and heavy into the air.
“Ma.”
She scoffed, her voice slowly turning into blur the more she spoke, because it was all nonsense. She didn’t blame herself like she had to—she blamed you instead.
“Don’t call me ma!” she shouted “You make us take your brother back here again knowing that he hates it! You get sick knowing we can’t handle you! And what? Malnutrition? You? Don’t start with me! I hate that we have to be here in the first place! Can’t you have just waited till you got home to pass out? You wanted attention that bad?”
Her voice rang in your ears—deep inside of you, the hate in your veins popping up from your beating heart. You understood now—that all you were to her was a burden. A kid she didn’t want, one that she didn’t feel the need to care for.
You needed to lash out. Just once, and then you’ll never be in her way again.
She still kept talking, her voice ugly and loud in the midst of the white room. You just wanted her to shut up, to get a needle and thread and to sow her mouth shut as if it never muttered the utter nonsense it did half the time she spoke.
And your stupid father kept nodding his head, as if his opinion mattered. His head bopping up and down as if her words were music in his ears.
The door clicked, but you didn’t care if anyone came in, you needed to get it off your chest—to counter whatever your mother was speaking about.
“Shut the fuck up, ma!” You yelled, eyes closed shut with tears threatening to spill.
The room went silent. As if a body was buried in the clouds and just rested there after watching the blow of the sun.
“What’d you just say to me?”
She still thought she was right. Fuck.
“I said shut the fuck up!” You said, looking her in the eye “I don’t care that you’re here! I don’t fucking want you here either! You left me in the house for two weeks with nothing to eat and when I texted you, you told me not to bother you and your precious little husband and ugly little son! This isn’t the first time! You tell me to leave the house and sleep over at a friend's house when he doesn’t want me there! You force me to walk to school so you don’t have to drive me because he hates it! You let him dictate every walking movement of my life! I haven’t eaten dinner with you in years because he hates the thought of me at the table! You’re a failure of a parent! I don’t think you’ve thought of me as a daughter once in your life! Both of you! And you little shit! You’re a failure of a brother. I hate all of you—I resent you for every second you make me feel like this. I haven’t eaten in weeks, cmon I passed out in school and you say I want attention? And you!” you pointed to your father “You’re just a bypasser—you stand there and ignore everything happening, and you have the nerve to nod your head when she’s saying whatever shit she is?” you screamed, chest falling and raising with rage at every word you let out.
She still fucking opened her mouth to speak, still had the nerve to say some shit.
“Get out!” You screamed “I never want to see any of you again! I’ll be homeless for fuck’s sake just get the fuck out of my life and live your perfect little life without a daughter.”
They stood anxiously still for a heartbeat, as if your words entered in through one ear and out the other, no meaning to them whatsoever.
Until a familiar voice cut through the air like a bullet.
“You heard her” Seonghyeon said “Get out right now or i’m calling security”
And they scurried like little rats outside the hospital room, huffing and puffing with anger that should’ve been gone long ago and replaced with shame.
Fuck.
It wasn’t just him here. Although the weight of his voice carried a calming sensation that you felt in your bones after they left.
Tears pooled in your eyes as you saw Yuha, Ye-On and Eom Unnie, their eyes glassy as they stared at you for a heartbeat before they reached out, pulling you into their arms as you let out the years of pent up anger.
Right now it was relief, one that settled itself into your soul when you heard that door click close, that maybe—just maybe, you were free of that pain.
They stayed quiet, patting your back in silent encouragement that didn’t push, didn’t break you.
Seonghyeon stood there, letting a sigh come out his mouth that he’d been holding in since you fainted, pure relief feeding into his bones.
But they all heard the conversation. It wasn’t hard to miss—your screaming voice was loud enough that you were sure the receptionists at the front desk could hear it.
It just never occurred to them that the situation was as bad as it was. Especially not with the way you smiled and laughed as if nothing was wrong at home, as if it wasn’t clearly eating you up alive.
Because it was—it hid itself into your flesh and bones and didn’t leave a tissue behind. It creeped up on you in between showers and in the moments you’d be so disgusted to see yourself naked, feeling the skin before your ribs, feeling how weak you got. You really missed your old body, the one with plump thighs and a stomach that didn’t cave in, with cheeks that weren’t hollow like you survived a war, with arms that were strong enough to carry a chair above your head with one arm. You missed being healthy and happy, you missed clothes fitting on you and not through you. And what you missed most was yourself.
You hated being sick in every way possible, yet it became the bane of your existence, the reason you got up in the morning.
And they felt guilty for not even noticing. Not even thinking anything was wrong.
But you wouldn’t blame them. You did everything in your power to make it go unnoticed. To be invisible, to not shine too bright because even then the inferiority complex you had would come through because of your brother.
The girls hesitantly pulled away after seeing Seonghyeon stand there too long, his glassy eyes staring at you with gentleness that could kiss all the hurt away with a glance.
You sighed before you felt the bed dip with a familiar weight—you knew he wanted to hug you but couldn’t bring himself to.
So you brought your arms forward, nestling your head deep in the crook of his neck before his hands made their way to your back, his own head near yours.
You stayed hugging him for a long while, savoring his warmth and gentleness that you didn’t think you’d ever find anywhere. He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, then hugged you harder than he started.
“You’re staying at ours today” he muttered, low enough for you to hear it, as if the phrase was a secret between you two, only meant for your own ears.
The nurse came in as you were hugging Seonghyeon, you reluctantly pulled away and she took your iv off, helping you up.
“You’re gonna get discharged in a second, we just need guardian signatures” she said
The room went as silent as mistles muffled beneath the sound of the ocean, and you decided to have enough courage for once in your life.
“I kicked my guardians out” You muttered quietly, the poor nurse’s eyes shot up at you, probably contemplating what she would do with her life right now.
“I—well” she started “You’re seventeen? I-If so you can sign the papers yourself, i’ll come grab them for you”
“Thank you” you said, grabbing your clothes that lay on the edge of the bed and going to the bathroom to change.
You didn’t put the jacket of your uniform on, only the skirt and the sweatpants you wore underneath with the white shirt you found yourself wearing under your button up,
The girls and Hyeon had helped you pack up your things into your backpack with an unfazed speed, as if they needed you out of this hospital room and anywhere else that was more real, and if it didn’t fit, they put it in Hyeon's bag.
The nurse gave you the papers, Hyeon had pulled out a pen from his pocket and fumbled it into your hands, you signed it with a messy, unclear writing before giving it to the nurse, your hands still shaking with nerves.
Then, a realization settled in you.
“How are we getting home?” you asked
“My parents are outside, they drove us here” Eom unnie said “You’re staying at our house today—i’m not letting you go back there” she let out a ragged breath, her hatred after overhearing that conversation came out in chunks, never stopping, never softening.
Hyeon held your hand, his own cold and calloused in the winter air that didn’t forgive, didn’t show any mercy.
The outside was cold, but your heart was warm with love. Love for him, although you never really admitted it out loud, love for your friends, and love for his parents, ones that didn’t treat you like you owed them something to be there, like you didn’t take away something from them. They treated you as if you were their own.
You all walked toward the car in unhurried steps, savoring the moment that you were alright and that nothing had happened. You promised you’d never ever let it get this bad ever again. That you’d never see the people that made you get this way again.
.
A few hours passed by and you had eaten dinner, your belly feeling warm and full with not only the good food you had but also the conversation that Hyeon’s parents had shared with you. They told you that as long as you didn’t want to go back to that house again, you were welcome to stay at theirs, they’d even give you the spare room they had upstairs so you didn’t have to feel out of place.
It was time to shower and go to bed, your body tired from the long day you had spent doing nothing but fighting yourself, and now, finally, you never had to do that again.
You felt guilty, although they reassured you over ten times that they wanted this, that this wasn’t anything you should be ashamed of and that your parents were missing out on having you in the house.
You had finished showering, sitting on Unnies bed as she brushed your hair, pausing for a moment as you felt her head on the crook of your neck, hugging you from behind.
“Y/N” she murmured
“Mm? What is it, unnie?”
“Go to hyeon’s room, mkay?” she asked “just tell him good night before you go to sleep, he probably wants to see you”
You turned around, the air in the room felt like it ran out, your lungs contracting as you heard her say the words.
“You sure?” you whispered
She nodded wordlessly—she didn’t even have to say anything for you to figure out that she knew, that she always knew that you had something for him.
So you made your way to his room, footsteps heavy and calculated on the creaking wood planks that had been installed on the floor. Your breath is shallow yet rising and falling against your chest, your lungs heavy with want, with need.
You softly knocked on the door, his sleepy voice answering a soft “come in” from inside the room as soon as you knocked on it.
You took a deep breath and opened the door slowly, peeking your head from in.
“I-uh” you started, laughing nervously “Just wanted to say goodnight, i’ll see you in the morning, hyeon”
You were about to close the door back up when you heard him shuffle a quick “No, Y/N come in”
And so you did, the creak of the door making a soft thud as you closed it, turning back around and standing, not knowing what to do.
You had been in this room so many times, you had known every snack in the little fridge he kept in chronological order, yet it felt so foreign being here after today.
“Come sit” he said, patting the space on the bed beside him, looking up at you with such soft, heavy lidded eyes it almost made you lose balance.
You sat on the bed, fingers playing with your knuckles out of nervousness, looking down at your lap. Calculating every single possibility that would happen if you told this boy you loved him right then and there.
You felt shuffling from beside you, and he had come and sat next to you, not close enough for your knees to touch, but close enough you’d feel his warmth next to you.
He never pushed, never made you feel like you had to give him what he wanted. He was always so gentle, so accepting, so patient with you to the point that he had ended up feeling like the home you never had, not until now.
His warm voice cut through the comfortable silence in an effort to soothe the fears you had, to ground you.
“You want a hug?” he asked, voice reluctant as if he thought you’d say no.
You wordlessly scooted closer to him, your arms taking up the space between his neck and shoulderblade, your head nestled on his chest, feeling his heartbeat that crashed towards you in waves, his own hands slowly fetching the small of your back, flinching at the little space he felt.
“You know..” he muttered, eyes looking into yours in the midst of the darkness, the only thing heard other than his voice was the flare of the fan “I’ll help you get better, no matter what it takes”
You nodded against him, almost eagerly, as if you were telling him you wanted him to help you.
.
About five months passed by in the blink of an eye, and in those months—you don’t think you could’ve been happier.
Your parents left you alone, letting you live at Hyeon’s, you had came and got all of the very little belongings you had and packed everything up, your brother causing a fit in which you finally got to slap out of him, though it earned you a slap from your parents, you didn’t care, you were ecstatic, even.
And in those months you got even closer with Hyeon, you didn’t put any labels to what you had going on yet, but you knew that you loved him and that he loved you.
And that was all that mattered, you got better, you weren’t stuck in that house anymore, and you finally didn’t have to deal with all the bullshit anymore.
Some days, you’d have sleepovers with Seonghyeon, where he would come to your room and you guys would play with the trinkets you had, or maybe you’d go to his room and you’d play on his xbox.
And that was what made you happy. You didn’t have to shrink, not physically or mentally to get noticed anymore.
You got the body you missed back, and nothing was gonna make you lose it, and Unnie and Hyeon made sure you didn’t either.
You made sure to live as fully as you could—just so nothing like that could happen again.
