--

"Hyung?"

What is he doing here? Why is he sitting there, staring at me?

They've put you on a feeding tube, you've gained weight. He's staring at your fat.
I turn away, pull up the blanket to hide myself further. Cover myself up, so that he cannot see me.

"Kibummie..." 
Reaching out, he grabs my hand, pulls it close. 

He's touching me. Touching my flesh, he's wondering how I can still be so big even with the eating disorder label. I must the only eating disordered person who is fat. I don't think I have a disorder. I'm too fat to have one. It isn't possible. 
Teardrops are finding their way out of my eyes. Hot, salty liquid. I can't cry, I can't. Not in front of him. 

But I do.
I cry because I can't help it, it's as if the whole world as I know it is gone, they've found out, they know everything. Everyone hates me, including myself. I don't know what I should do because although I've lost weight, I still have a long, long way to go before I am a suitable size, but they're feeding me.  The doctors are force feeding me calorie filled liquids through a plastic tube because I have been deemed too unstable to do it by myself. Soon I'll gain weight. I'll become even fatter than I already am.

I pull away.

"Don't touch me."
My voice rasps and cracks after days of silence. It's not easy to talk when there's no one to talk to, or at least, no one that fully understands. I'd rather not. Some things should be known by me and me alone. 

It's not as if anyone wishes to know about you.

I know. I know no one cares.

I see him pull back, saddened, staring at me.  

"I'm sorry." 
Why is he saying he's sorry? Why is he sorry? Sorry for knowing me? Sorry for ever having contact with me? For speaking to me, even?

"I did this, right? I caused this. I made you do this."

What is he doing? What is he saying? 

"I called you big, and you believed me. God, how could you? How could you believe me? You never were, never. I'm so sorry, Kibum. I'm so, so, freaking sorry." 

You made him cry. Damn you, Kibum. Stupid boy, you made him cry. You ruin everything.

--

A/n: work is in progress, a quick filler for now.