At 6:00 sharp, I woke up to my alarm. That was half an hour earlier than my usual morning call; I had intended to be up earlier. Though my body tempted to lie down and rested for a tad more minutes, my hands yanked the blankets roughly off. The cool, morning air instantly enveloped me, jolting my senses awake.

With half closed eyelids, I managed to find an orange and proceeded to squeeze and collect its juices. They were meant for Wheein. Just recalling how Wheein whined softly and walked unsteadily yesterday was enough for guilt to haunt me. Heading to the spare room where it held many of the art materials that I didn't store in my room, I clawed on a plain sketchbook and chucked it into my bag. Finally, I took a small, squishy soft toy with me. Wheein had the habit of fumbling with small items especially when she was nervous or sick. It calmed her down and put her mind at rest; it served a great distraction for her as well.

Even though I did arrive slightly earlier than my usual timing, my poor puppy was already at her seat with her head on the table. I could hear the shattering of my heart as I approached Wheein. Despite her discomfort, she still forced a bleak smile; her shoulders sagged in exhaustion, her face etched with fatigue.

Quickly, I pulled out all the things I’ve brought for Wheein, gesturing her to take a sip of the orange juice first. With her