Sign - Brown Eyed Girls

Min Yu's POV

"Are you okay? Want some soup or anything? Coffee?" my mother hovered over me and felt my forehead. "You don't have a fever," she commented. "I'll be fine. Might be just indigestion or something," I answered while panting.

My stomach felt like it was being kicked by a hundred horses at the same time, and it churned out everything I ate from my mouth to the toilet bowl. "Do you want to go to the doctor?" Leeteuk suggested. I shook my head.

"I'm going to get better. I need a little rest, that's all," I defended, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and rinsing with tap water. "Do you want me to tell Chunji to come over?" omma asked.

"No! No. He's been busy lately and I don't want to drag him into a petty thing of me getting sick," I protested. "Are you sure? But it's been days since you've been vomiting. It's not healthy and you're getting skinnier," Leeteuk gave her a glass of water.

I walked out of the bathroom and slumped on the sofa. "I'll get better tomorrow when I wake up. I've just been lacking sleep and not eating right for the last week. Plus, I can't afford to not go to school and work," I reasoned and started to wear my shoes.

"Maybe it's the boiled silkworms you keep on buying and buying from street carts. Those might be contaminated or something," omma scolded.

"But they're to die for. You don't know how heavenly it tastes like because you never bothered to eat. You don't know what you're missing," I fought back and she rolled her eyes at me.

"If you start feeling sick again, give us a call, okay?" Leeteuk said and kissed my forehead before I go. I waved Min Young goodbye and left the house.

I checked my phone for the 123456789th time, and was disappointed...again. Chunji still hasn't talked to me. I've been drunk, I've been wasted, I've been hungover, I've drunk-dialled but everything was in vain.

He has no plans of talking to me. Instead of Chunji, Donghae was the one trying to contact me. He left voicemails, messages, and missed calls which I had no plans of responding to. He has his own girlfriend now, for crying out loud. He should be contented. I should be contented too.

The streets were drowned in noise from cars and passing vehicles to people talking loudly like there was no tomorrow. The volume flooded my already crowded mind which was already overloading.

I clutched my jacket close tighter and wondered why June felt like December. But then again, I never did understood climate change.

I walked up the front and knocked against the wooden door even though the door bell was a few centimeters from my hand. They might be surprised to see me. I never told them that I'd be coming over.

"Who is it?" Ryeowook asked from the inside. "Your biggest nightmare if you don't open the door immediately. I'm freezing," I complained.

"Kyuhyun is that you?" he shouted back and opened the door. "Kyuhyun talks like a girl?" I asked and stepped inside with a smile. The dorm was still as warm as ever, and home was close at hand.

"I'll get your jacket," he offered. "Thanks," I muttered and headed to the living room. Inside, Eunhyuk was busy watching soccer with Siwon.

"Torres is such a...aish. I can't say it. I can't curse," Siwon said, being the pious man he is.

"Try it. It's fun," I butted in and sat beside them. "Annyeong," Eunhyuk greeted. "Even if it's fun, I won't do it," Siwon defended. "It'll feel good in your mouth. If you say just one curse word, the rest would come flowing out spontaneously," I said, giving Eunhyuk a light punch as he shook the whole sofa with his laughter. "You first. Say just one curse word that you always say," Siwon cued.

"," I replied. Eunhyuk's laughter was unstoppable and I had to elbow his chest to calm him down. Siwon's eyes widened. "THAT WAS...YOU'RE...IT WAS...HOW DID YOU..." he couldn't put his words together.

"You tempted me to say bad words. You're going to hell," I responded. "I WOULD NOT!" he stood up and yelled. "Come on. You're like...gay or something if you don't swear your whole life," I fixed my eyes to the television screen.

"EUNHYUK STOP THAT!" I shouted and glared at him. He immediately stopped laughing and sat up straight. "HOW COULD YOU SAY I'M GOING TO HELL? Have I done something wrong to you?" Siwon asked worriedly.

I shrugged. He almost pulled out his hair in frustration and stomped his way to his room. "Where did hyung go?" Ryeowook asked, his head bobbing out from the kitchen.

"He's in his room to read the Bible or pray or do religious stuff," I answered. "You're still as evil as ever," Eunhyuk ruffled my hair. "Is Donghae here?" I asked.

"He's in his room. He's been wanting to talk to you for a whole week. Have you two been fighting again?" he said. "Misunderstanding. I'll just go talk to him," I excused myself and went to his room...our old room actually.

Each step up the stairs was a burden. Each step was a reminder of the symptoms I've been beginning to feel. I chewed on my lip and my mouth went dry.

I knocked softly on his door, waiting for his response and wishing I've never knocked at all. He opened the door with a toothbrush inside his mouth and his lower body covered with a towel.

GREAT.

"Can...Can I come in?" I asked. He nodded and opened the door wider and ran to his bathroom. I waited for a few minutes until he was done rinsing his mouth and I breathed in and out deeply to calm my nerves.

"Are you going out or something?" I asked, looking down and playing with my fingers as I sat on his bed. I've been careful as to not mess up his bedsheet, for he would surely get upster, being the neat freak he is.

"I'm going to meet up with..." he hesitated to continue and stared at me. "With Yoona?" I suggested and he nodded. "Oh," I said and tried to smile.

"I'd also be meeting with my soon to be partners for the restaurant I wanted to start," he added. "So you're really pushing through with it, huh?" I asked. "Yeah," he muttered. It felt awkward, that was the only thing I could think of.

"I know I'm only wasting your time so I'll go straight to the point of why I came here," I started and took a deep breath. Donghae leaned against his closet and waited for me to continue.

"I...I...I'm not really sure. I just assumed I am, but I don't know anything for sure. I'm not lying or anything, and if you want to kick me out of the dorm just listen to what I have to say first and hear me out, okay?" I stuttered nervously, not knowing how to break the news.

"I think I'm pregnant," I looked down and closed my eyes, preparing myself for his outburst. I heard feet shuffling and I could feel him kneeling in front of me and examining my face. I opened my eyes and tears were falling from his eyes. Was he so angry that he was CRYING?!

"Why--" he didn't let me finish my sentence and crushed me into one of his suffocating hugs. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't know. My period's late, I've been craving crazily for boiled silkworm, and I'm sick to my stomach," I explained.

"So you're pregnant?" a huge grin was plastered on his face. "I told you I'm not sure. I'm afraid to go to the doctor alone. Chunji won't talk to me and..." "He's the one with the responsibility for you so he should come," he cut me off.

"About that..." I sighed. Drops of water from his still wet hair splattered to my arm and I wiped it off with my hand. "What?" he stared deep into my eyes. "I think it's yours," I confessed.

His facial expression went from surprise to happiness then confusion. "I thought so," I mumbled and stood up to leave. I never expected him to deny me. Of course, I was stupid enough to think that he cared about me that much and carry the burden with me. As always, I was wrong.

But he held my arm and pulled me back. "Are you sure? Haven't you done it too?" he asked. "We did it only once," I defended. "So are you saying...?" he gestured to my stomach. Before I could say something, he pushed me to lay down on his bed.

I wanted to sit up, but he pinned my arms down on my sides. Donghae pressed his head against my stomach and tried to listen...as if he could hear something. "Baby are you there? Are you inside? Can you hear me?" he whispered.

I tried pushing him away, but he held onto me tighter. "Appa's here. Can you hear me?" he said once again, and I gave up trying to get him off of me. He wanted a child. He wanted MY child. Oh, scratch that. He wanted OUR child.

"I wonder how you'd look like. Would you have my eyes? I want you to have omma's nose..." he ranted on. "Donghae," I called out. Tears leaked out of my eyes slowly. "And her lips. So you have to come out healthy, arasseo? We'll be waiting for you..."

"Donghae," I tried once again. He didn't seem to listen. He didn't even seem to be himself. It was like he was out of this world. "Appa has waited so long to have you and omma, so don't disappoint me, okay?" "Donghae," I said, louder this time. 

"I love you," he mumbled one last time. "Donghae," I sat up and pushed him away. Donghae was also crying. "How can you say that?" I shouted angrily. "Say what?" he asked.

"How could you talk to this thing inside me?" I yelled. "It's our baby. You know how I've been waiting for my own," he replied calmly. "I'm not sure if it's yours. I'm not even sure a thing inside me exists. I want to get this thing out," I revealed.

"WHAT?" he stood up. "This thing...I don't want it," I replied. "HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT? AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'GET IT OUT'?!" he exclaimed. "I want an abortion," I responded.

"I won't let you," he held my wrists tightly. "How could you care about me and this thing? You have a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend. We're both out of the line," I said.

He lifted my chin up to look at him. "I'd do anything," he said. I sighed and shook my head. One thing I've learned from life: you can't always get what you want. We've always wanted something we can't have. It's just the sad truth. 

His grip around my wrists grew tighter. "Donghae, let me go," I pulled away frantically. "Promise me you'd go to the doctor for confirmation," he said. 

"Let me go..." I almost yelled. "Promise me," he said, his hands holding me tighter. "DONGHAE, LET ME GO. YOU'RE HURTING ME," I shouted angrily.

He dropped my wrists and I seized the chance to leave, running out of the dorm like a frustrated track star and never looked back. 

I arrived at my apartment breathless, as if I've been chased by kidnappers. I fumbled for my phone in my pocket and searched for a number I rarely contacted but did so in case of emergencies and necessity.

"Yoboseyo?" the chief editor answered after the first ring. He'd probably be expecting me to call. "I'm accepting the offer. I'd go to the North."