He felt ill. Not because he had yet again refused his meal, in fact that was the highlight of his day, but because of the solution they had decided would improve his recovery.

“Taemin, we’ve noticed a decline in your progress.” The doctor sighed, obviously unimpressed with his uncooperative behavior.

“In fact, the decline is very drastic. You’ve lost a lot of weight recently and that isn’t good. We will putting you on bed rest and you will have a feeding tube.”

Taemin’s eyes widened. A feeding tube? He wasn’t that sick, was he? No, no. He was still too enormous to be that ill. And now he will be force fed food by a plastic tube.

“W-when?” He asked, voice coming out only barely.

“That hasn’t been decided yet, your therapist and I will discuss it to find out when the best time would be. I’m sorry Taemin but this is for the best.”

Is it really though? Will this really help him? He knew the voice in his head wouldn’t shut up. Ever. He knew he wouldn’t get better. It was just a matter of getting out of this hell-hole, faking his recovery, and continuing on will his disordered thoughts.

“We will inform you on any further news, until then, you’re free to go. Enjoy your time out of bed, Taemin.” The doctor sympathetically smiled, patting him on the back and leading him out of the office.

Where was Minho when you needed him?

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This was EXTREMELY short I’m sorry. ;-;

I will be updating this more frequently and they will be longer chapters. I’ve been super busy but I promise I’ll update!