I Punched The Gang Leader [ON HOLD]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | One Night

Tears swim in my eyes. Shit! I'm such an idiot! I closed my eyes and tilted my head back as grief and moan to myself. It hurts.

I wrapped my arms around my body, hugging myself tightly, holding myself together. I miss him. I really miss him. I miss him so much. I love him. I really love him. I love him so much. Simple.

"Are you okay, Sahara?" Amira asked, squeezing my shoulder a bit when I was cutting the vegetables in the kitchen.

"I'm okay. I guess..." I whispered, biting my bottom lip.

At that time, I realised I was no longer holding the knife in my hand when I thought I was cutting the vegetables in front of me the whole time.

God! I'm losing my mind.

The wave of nausea suddenly hit me, adding to my misery. My stomach lurched and gurgled. It clawed at my throat and I tried to force down the bile but it was too late. It's coming!

I immediately covered my mouth and dashed to the bathroom, making my way past Amira, "Excuse me." I said.

"Sahara? What's wrong?" she asked while following me into the bathroom.

My head began to spin as I stormed into the bathroom and bent over the sink, letting everything out. I heaved and heaved until there was nothing but an empty pit in my gut.

"Oh God! Sahara..." Amira approached me, swiping my hair away from my face and I felt her hands rubbing my back.

"Arghhh..." I chocked until only clear liquid was coming up. My throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and my mouth tasted of vomit.

"Let me get you some water." she offered and disappeared from the bathroom.

After that, I cleaned my mouth and I clutched my forehead, attempting to regain my stability back at the same time.

"Here." she returned back after fetching me a glass of water which I gladly took.

"Thanks." I murmured, taking a gulp to wash the taste of vomit away from my throat and gave her back the glass before drying my mouth with a toilet paper.

"Are you sick?" she asked and I leaned into her.

"I don't know." I shook my head, recalling back what I've eaten wrong for the last few hours.

There's nothing wrong with what I ate actually. I had mushroom soup, yogurt and an apple for breakfast and I haven't eaten anything during these hours. What's wrong with me?

"Do you want to go to the clinic?"

"No, I'm fine." I smiled, reassuring her.

Not long after, I saw the look on her face. It was changing into the kind of look which indicated that she wanted to say or request for something but I couldn't actually tell what was it.

"Can I say something?" she hesitated, giving me a questioning look.

I smelled something fishy.

"What is it?"

She pressed her lips together and those eyes shifted to my stomach, "What if..."

REALISING THOSE RIDICULOUS THOUGHTS...

"Oh no! It's impossible." I jumped in surprise, raising both my hands in surrender.

Yeah! It's clearly impossible. It was just one night. One night. That's it. There's so many more possibilities but why did she choose this one out of all the others? What? How could she even think of that?