Right now, Leon felt as though his entire body was on fire. He was very much burning up.

Yesterday, he had thought to simply sleep the fever off—that used to work in the past. But, considering how much he still felt like shit today, he realized that in order to get better, he needs much more than simply sleep. He knows that sooner or later, he’d have to get this checked up, and he’d prefer sooner.

He went to the hospital and got it checked with the doctor. The doctor prescribed him some medicine to consume daily until he gets better. She also reminded him to drink a lot of water and rest, and he’d be more than happy to oblige the latter.

After that, he went home. He knows that with his current condition, he wouldn’t be able to take the bus back. So, he spared a bit of cash and took a cab back. Of course, he made sure he wore a mask so the driver wouldn’t catch his fever.

He arrived back home, unlocked the door, and as if deja vu, he walked in and immediately fell flat on his couch—face first. “Ough...” he groaned, whimpering, his body trembling. Damn it, he thought. Sleep would be really nice right now.

Wait, no. He can’t sleep now. His tummy was rumbling; he was fucking hungry. Mustering all the strength that he could, he headed to the kitchen and walked towards the fridge, wanting to make a quick meal for himself. He opened the fridge, wanting to grab some eggs, but got disappointed instead.

Unfortunately, he ran out of eggs in his house. Actually, he ran out of everything in his house. He just got his monthly money yesterday and hasn’t yet gone grocery shopping. He gotta go buy some groceries soon.

He reached for his wallet for grocery shopping. Yesterday, he separated the money early on so that he would be more responsible for his financial situation. However, as he was putting that wallet inside of his shopping bag, he lost focus and ended up dropping the money instead.

Ah, shit.

He went to pick it up from the floor, but before he managed to, out of a sudden, he felt sick. He dropped down the bag he was holding and rushed to the bathroom to vomit but ended up puking practically nothing. He’s only had water since the start of the day, and so those were all that he puked out.

Afterward, his body felt weak—he’s sure he was too weak to even leave the house, to even be able to go to a goddamn market. And that makes him wonder: how did he manage to go to the hospital earlier in the day again?

Ah yes, he figured. Sheer will.

If he managed to go to a hospital, then, surely... surely he’d be able to go to a mart, right?

.

.

.

Right...?

.

.

.

Well, unfortunately, the reality isn’t that nice. In life, sheer will alone won’t get you far enough in life. He didn’t manage to make it out to the store—he couldn’t even change out of his current clothes.

Slumped in bed, he realized he had no choice but to order takeout instead. He clenched his fist at the thought and pouted. He was not supposed to order takeout today. Like, come on... ordering food on the first day that you got money? Really? That’s just irresponsible.

Then again, he had no choice. He took his phone and ordered some Japanese food, buying a yakiniku accompanied by miso soup. He didn’t make rice earlier in the morning, so he also ordered rice with it. After the food came, he picked them up from in front of the house and opened them on his dining table, prepared to consume them.

He took a spoon from the drawer and began to drink the soup. One spoonful in his mouth, and he felt that the food was bland. He couldn’t taste shit. But he knows... he knows he has to keep eating if he wanted to get better, so he did.

After he finished drinking the soup, he proceeded to eat the meat. Just a few bites into it and he suddenly felt an urge pooling from the pit of his stomach. He felt sick again, and he went to the sink so he could puke out the inside of what was inside of his body.

“God...” he cried out, his fingers gripping the side of the sink. Tears were swelling in the corner of his eyes. He felt miserable. He can’t continue eating any longer.

After recovering from regurgitating, he cleaned up the mess he made and went into his room to rest.  He arranged the pillow and then throw himself atop it, wanting to get a good and comfortable sleep. The blanket was wrapped around his body and his arms hugged a bolster.

He laid down and tried closing his eyes, attempting to sleep. He did that for one second, for two seconds. God, he’s extremely tired. He can barely move a joint of his body and he still couldn’t sleep. Come on, he told himself. Sleep... sleep... sleep! Yet still, he couldn’t. And convincing himself to go to sleep didn’t seem to work either.

Mustering all the strength in his body, he tried turning around, laying his back flat on the bed while looking up to the ceiling. He blinked once, fuck. He blinked twice, insomnia. “Fuck!” he scoffed out, annoyed.

He rolled over to the side and stretches his hand to grab his phone from the table beside the bed. But, the moment that the phone was in his hand, he started pondering. “What the hell am I gonna do with this?” he asked himself. He paused and considered all the possibilities in his head, and he concluded that all of them were useless activities that would tire him out more, so he decided to place his phone back on the desk.

His body sink in the bed once more, eyes closing gently, and he decided: what kind of things would he think of for the day so that he’d be able to sleep?

Cowfish? Leon froze. That word just splurged into his mind at the exact moment that he decided to close his eyes. What the hell is a cowfish? he asked himself. He wondered if that could be an actual animal or not. Personally, he doubted it—but then again, crazier things exist in this world.

He still kept his eyes shut. More random thoughts—or more specifically, random words—were coming up to his head. Starting from takoyaki, pizza, quesadilla... and then some lemon tea and shaved ice... and, wait a minute, is Leon hungry?

He opened his eyes and lifted his back, sitting upright instead. He put his hand on his stomach, pressing against it. Am I hungry? Leon asked himself, starting to rub his hand on his tummy. He heard a bit of a rumbling from within, but his stomach didn’t particularly hurt in any way, nor does he feel any hunger building up.

“Huh,” he mumbled out. That felt strange, but... okay?

Never mind that. Putting the food discussion he had with himself aside, he soon figured out that he was not going to sleep anytime soon. He was tired, but he was not sleepy. He kicked the blanket that was wrapping his body off him; rather than lazing around his bed, he found himself wanting to get off the bed and go out of his room.

However, right before his foot touches the ground, he suddenly got reminded of something painful, and he flinched. The porcelain tiles under his feet felt cold.

What the fuck? he thought.

The recalling was so uncalled for. His head, out of nowhere, made him remember his two former friends. Their name, their figure, and their face—Reynatra and Eli—crosses his mind, and it made him upset. Cause why the fuck would his head make him think about them?

Okay, he admits, he missed them. But why now? Why did he remember them now? Why would he think about them when he’s alone in his house... when he has absolutely nothing to distract him from resurfacing all the emotions he felt on the day that they parted? Why?

He missed the days when the three of them would have spent the weekends together. During car-free days in which they’d exercise in the morning, encouraging each other to run regardless of how lazy they were in doing so.

And after that, they’d go to a mall or restaurant nearby to go grab some food. And normally, they’d pay for their own food individually. But, he never did forget the days when Reynatra would occasionally pay for his and Eli’s food as well.

Ahh... those days, they were fun. But those days too, unfortunately, have passed.

They were fond memories of his, but they were just that—a memory. He may enjoy the memory of it as he was living it, but reliving it now was only hurting him. He missed those days that would never come back. He missed being happy. He missed being in love when it wasn’t hurting.

His nails dug into the sheets under him, agitated. He looked down, disgruntled.

“Fuck it,” he groaned out. He threw his head back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow, and he found himself later to have been crying himself to sleep. And he sobs, hahah.

Well... he just hopes that he wouldn’t have to spend another day with just his thoughts alone tomorrow as well. He’s had enough, this is enough.