• Pain in the chest, throat, or stomach
• Difficulty swallowing and breathing
• Erratic behaviour
• Violent thoughts and fantasies
• Hallucinations and delusions

 These are the severe symptoms during the third phase of amor deliria nervosa, a deathly disease hunting for you from the moment you reach the verge of adulthood. You have been taught both in school and at home how to diagnose it and that you absolutely, without exception have to report it to authorities if you see anything suspicious that might be caused by this absolutely horrendous disease.

You saw the way it changed people, totally turned them inside out, you saw the damage it did on families and the society itself. Yet, you know nobody can feel themselves falling ill until it’s too late because of this delirious feeling heavy on their chest. It’s like cancer, spreading fast but rather than infecting your health, it’s affecting your brain and sanity. Once it gets you, you can’t think straight. That’s the only sensible reason for not caring about being sick, for thinking that being in love is a majestic and blissful emotion instead of begging for the cure. When you catch cold, you take vitamins and drink tea then why don’t you now? Why are you questioning the society and the core idea of its system?

Love is wrong. That's what they said and you believed it wholeheartedly, without doubt. You heard the stories and you were so afraid that it would cause your downfall, too. But now, with a three-pronged needle against your neck, you can't find it in you to deny this feeling. This mistrust against your own government, their methods and their lies.

Love is wrong, they told you but now, you know better.

Just a month before getting the Cure, the mandatory brain surgery after you turn eighteen, you were notified who will be your future husband based on the evaluations of your government. The white envelope containing all kind of data of your future someone makes your throat close up in nervousness as you open is hastily. You take a big breath before pulling out the printed paper about your result, his results and the proof of your compatibility. Most of your approved matches ranked with 8 points out of 10 just like you did during your evolutions so obviously, you thought that the "winner" would one of those guys. However, your heart skips a beat when you see the name of the 7 points guy. Park Chanyeol.

The name itself is familiar; you don’t even have to check on his picture to know who he is. You know him from Chemistry class. He’s tall, smart, looking a bit nerdy with his thick framed glasses but utterly cute when his ears redden in embarrassment. He’s a nice guy, he will probably get a good job and you two can buy a pretty house in a nice neighbourhood. The perfect husband. Not like you had any say in it but you were okay with your chosen one and you hoped he feels the same.

Little did you know that Chanyeol had been sick ever since you helped him pick up a few dropped books in the corridors and looked into his eyes with your mouth curved into a shy smile...

Boys and girls are segregated from birth in everyday life. The government doesn't like taking risks so they try to minimize every possible interaction between the opposite genders. However, your town, being pretty small, only has one high school and one Chemistry teacher so an all-boy and all-girl class is hardly an economically reasonable thing to do. It doesn't really matter anyway. The surveillance system keeps an eye on the students and the principle basically knows everything you do so it isn't possible to even talk with guys outside of the class without teachers accompanying you to the head teacher's office.

So meeting and actually talking with Chanyeol outside of class was a first when your parents set up a date for you after the announcement of your match. Since both of you were scheduled to go to university based on your points, your wedding’s date was set after your bachelor degree graduation. It seemed like a long time but you were glad that you would have time to adjust to a life with him before actually marrying him. Not that you had any other choice. There was no such thing as breaking up or divorcing in a world like yours. Those scary words only existed in rumours because all of these worthless, painful feelings were washed away by one single stink of a needle. No more sweaty palms and erratic heartbeat waiting for a boy to arrive and sit down with you over a nice dinner.

Real salvation.

You wore your prettiest dress with a purple ribbon around it but ended up being so embarrassed about putting so much effort into this that you left your hair messy just to compensate. However, Chanyeol arrived in a suit and with a bouquet of flowers and he was being a blabbering, blushing mess as he couldn’t find the words to compliment your outfit.
"Thanks," you smile at him shyly, saving him from further suffering.
Both of you were so nervous, however, while Chanyeol could barely utter a sentence to order food, you couldn’t shut up. You went on and on about childhood memories, future plans, favourite activities and interests and finding out that you did actually have a lot in common was kind of nice.  He started to open up when you talked about music and you enjoyed breaking down his shell. Going on a few dates with him before being officially paired up by some authority was maybe your parents’ best idea ever. By the time, you asked for the bill, you were far from being awkward strangers.

"Can... When can I see you again?" Chanyeol asked and even though he towered over you in height, it didn't feel belittling at all. The way he looked down at you, the stars glittering in his orbs made you want to stand up to your toes and… And what? The thought itself was ridiculous.

"Tomorrow. At Chemistry," you smiled cheekily, nibbling on your lower lip and the boy laughed light-heartedly but genuine. He had a really nice laugh, you mused with your heart pounding.
"You know what I mean," he pouted and you giggled. Of course, you knew.

So for the next date, Chanyeol brought a guitar and he took you to the park to have a picnic. It was perfect and for the time being, you had the name of your evaluators in your prayers because you were really grateful. The pair of you two really fit. Still, you didn't talk about marriage and other ‘important’ stuff but both of you enjoyed each other’s company. Even your acquaintances said you are a match made in heaven. So why did the compliment taste bitter for you?

The answer didn't come easy but eventually you had to accept the truth: that you didn't want your relationship being fabricated by laws and regulations. You wanted spontaneity, real feelings and ah, the fantasies of a young adult. You were being selfish for wanting all that.

But you were not the only one selfish…

“Do you think everybody feels like this?” you dared to ask The Question out loud while leaning onto Chnyeols frame during a movie. You could feel his bony body going rigid under yours and your breath hitched as his was trembling.

“Like what?” he wanted to know the details, asking carefully not to scare you but the big question marks in the air were already doing their job. You mind ran overdrive: What if he will report you for acting strangely, for talking about feelings, for getting intimate and holding his hand during the family dinner last time? But the scariest question of them all: what if he doesn't feel the same?

Maybe it was really the sickness, this panicky feeling choking you and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. Tears pricking your eyes you had to stand up, detaching your body from Chanyeol’s and you wanted to run very far away.

But just before you could get away from him, Chanyeol grabbed you by the elbow and gently tugged back to face him. You looked down bashfully, not being able to meet his eyes, not until you felt his breath fanning over your cheek.

“You meant this fever every time we touch? Or the flowers that bloom in my heart just by seeing you smile? Or maybe the dreams about you and missing you even if I just saw you?” he whispered against your hot skin and you couldn't help but shiver. Your heart was screaming yes, yes, yes eagerly but you felt like fainting because your brain knew you shouldn't have felt this way. Something unexplainable took over you and pressing closer, you brushed your lips against his feeling the touch of a kiss (something only Cured people are allowed to do) and ah, breaking the rules has never tasted so sweet.

You were in love, you didn’t even wanted to deny it but the society wouldn’t ever accept that. So you planned to run away with Chanyeol, living outside of the walls, in the land of Invalids and Uncureds. You were supposed to act like you were nothing more but an assigned couple until the day of your surgery came. The Cure that would taken your feelings away. Once it seemed like salvation, now it was a nightmare. You didn’t want to lose this, whatever it was you and Chanyeol had.

Your escape plan was perfect: meeting up for a dinner the day before your big day, because it was nothing surprising by now and then, just before curfew you would take a walk around the neighbourhood. When the clock hit ten, you both would have grabbed your stuff and made a run for it. Together for a now life.

No matter how careful you were, somebody was bound to notice the changes, you just didn't expect your own sister betraying you like this. Calling the guards on you just before your date.

“No, please, I swear I’m not sick,” you shrieked at the guards grabbing and tossing you towards the door. Ugly sobs shook your whole body.

“How could you?” you yelled at you sibling standing in the corridor holding the backpack you prepared for running away in her hands.

“It’s for your good. You are sick, they will cure you. Everything will be fine,” she tried to soothe you, eyes sad and disappointed, but it only mad you want to throw up.

“No! You might just kill me with this,” you were mumbling as they took you away to force the procedure on you.

The hospital is ugly and smells weird. The room’s wall are white where you are and tied to a chair you sit still while doctors and guards are gathering around you. It's almost funny, six adult men making sure that you don't do anything stupid with your 154cm. You have no idea what they are waiting for, not until the door burst open and they bring Chanyeol in, too.

“No,” you scream helplessly watching as they tie the drugged boy to the chair next to you just like they did with you. You can barely move but you manage to grab his hands and that makes him turn towards you. You see your own emotions mirrored in his grieving dark eyes as you try to fight back but it’s in vain. You are outnumbered by the guards holding you down firmly, not letting you go as the doctors work.

“I love you,” Chanyeol confesses suddenly, but with his cracked voice it sounds more like a goodbye.

“I love you, too,” you turn your head towards him, tears already rolling down your face.

You are holding hands, as tightly as you can while the surgeons inject the serum into both of your skin, just under your right ears. Your heart is beating like a drum, panicked, excited, sad and in love. Yet, they just call you lovesick and want to cure you. What cure, you laugh dryly as you let your hand fall and welcome the darkness.

Next time you open your eyes, the void of feelings greets you, the absolute emptiness and looking at the boy still asleep next to you feels like meeting a stranger. With hazy memories you glance around the hospital room, hand itchy and when you look down on it you see one single scribbled sentence written with ink on your palm.

Please, fall in love with him again.

Huh, what a stupid, dangerous thing to write, you think to yourself and hurry to wash it down before anybody sees. Too bad you can’t erase it from your mind whenever you look into your fiancé’s emotionless eyes.