𝗦𝗨𝗡 & 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗡 | ᴬᶰ ˢᵒᵒᴴᵒ 『English Version』

Extra #1: Oh...

The alarm had been blaring for three minutes—a shrill, insistent beep that felt like it was drilling into her skull. Hyeori reached a hand out from her warm cocoon of blankets, swatting blindly at the nightstand until her fingers found the snooze button.

She sank back into the pillow with a muffled groan.

It wasn't a hangover. It wasn't the flu. It was a fatigue so deep her bones felt like they were filled with lead. She'd been like this for a week. A week of waking up more tired than when she went to bed.

Beside her, the mattress was cold and empty. Sooho had gotten up hours ago, probably for his morning class at the university before his shift at the music store. He had insisted she stay in bed.

"You are only to move to go to the bathroom and eat, got it, my sun?" he had said, with that seriousness in his voice that only appeared when his protective instincts kicked in. "You're pale."

"I'm fine, Sooho-yah," she had mumbled, half-asleep. "Just... stress. Finals."

But it was a lie, and they both knew it. Finals at med school were brutal, but this was different. This was a physical exhaustion her mind simply couldn't fight.

She forced herself to sit up, feeling the room spin slightly. Bomi, the orange kitten, watched her with piercing green eyes from the foot of the bed before letting out a complaining meow and lying back down.

"I know, I'm sleepy too," Hyeori told her.

She went downstairs in their small house—the house they had saved so hard for, with its little garden and swing. It was their sanctuary. Choco, her massive brown cat, greeted her on the last step, rubbing against her legs with a purr that vibrated like a small engine.

"Hello, handsome boy."

She poured herself a glass of water, but the thought of coffee or food made her stomach turn. She sat on the sofa, staring at the pathology textbook she'd left open the night before. The words danced. She couldn't focus.

What is wrong with me? she thought, rubbing her temples. I can't afford to be sick. Not now.

The front door opened suddenly, and the sound of jingling keys made her jump. Sooho walked in, bringing a gust of fresh air and his usual energy, though his eyes immediately locked onto her, analyzing.

"You're still in pajamas," he said, not as a reproach, but as a confirmation of his fears. Sooho hated it when she was sick.

"I just got up."

"It's eleven in the morning, Hyeori. You missed your first class."

She frowned. She hadn't even realized. "God... I didn't hear the alarm."

Sooho dropped his backpack on the floor and knelt in front of her by the sofa. His face, which had regained all its vitality after his recovery, was now filled with a worry that was painfully familiar.

He placed the back of his hand against her forehead. "No fever..." he murmured. "But you're still pale. And you have dark circles."

"I'm just tired, Sooho. Really."

"It's not 'just tired.' You sleep twelve hours and wake up like you ran a marathon. I'm going to the pharmacy. I'll get you vitamins, maybe something for the flu..."

"It's not the flu. I'm not congested, my throat doesn't hurt..."

"Then I'll go ask the pharmacist what he recommends for..." he made a vague gesture, "...the extreme fatigue of an overworked med student. And I'll buy soup. You're going back to bed."