Chapter 12: CHAPTER 10
HAN JIHAN
I spent the last of winter in my bed, with a runny nose, flushed cheeks, and burning skin. Mom frequently came to check on me and some nights when the sleep refused to hold me in its arms, she did it for me.
I look out of the open window, which mom opened when she came in earlier saying "you would need some fresh air, honey" The piles of snow that blanketed the ground are almost all gone. A sheer layer is all left.
Like the days gone, the weaker I got. The last time I stood on my feet with might is when I saw Jungho, when I asked mom how long we can ignore my sickness. It's as if it heard me, it arrived the very next day in the form of haunting tiredness and trembling limbs. Crushing me down completely. I haven't been able to push myself up from the bed since then. But today I'm feeling better. I feel I can stand on my feet without falling.
Dad brings a physician from the town. It takes a lot of money. But the herbalist that always fixes me when I broke like this sometimes, can no longer fix me with his green herbs and awful potions. But this physician somehow can. He prescribed a lot of blue-colored pills. Even though it looks like crystal, It burns my throat to my stomach even before I pop it on my tongue.
Mom told me that Jungho is going to Ciria by the end of this month. That he'll come here to visit me before he goes. And I always worried about being in this bed like a fallen leaf when he came. But she always shushes my thoughts when they get too loud. I think she can feel it.
Tomorrow he'll be here. I pray to the moon goddess to not make me sick again. I feel too useless to be in this bed, it's been two weeks— and it feels like a decade.
The sun's bright yellow draws little patterns on the floor and the air smells of wood. I stick my nose out of the blanket and take a deep inhale, closing my eyes instinctively. Pushing the blanket down my torso, I press my palm flat on the bed on either side of me and prop myself up into a sitting position. It wasn't hard.
My feet press against the warmth of the floor as I cross my room and look down where the snow is melting to the grass, through the window. I can feel the breeze on my skin. It tugs at my lips and stretches them into a smile.
I travel down the stairs in my bed hair and crumbled shirt. I take a minute in my room to run my hands through my hair and make it look somewhat presentable and my shirt to make it look less crumbled, but I see it didn't help much. Because I'm an omega, I ought to look decent all the damn time.
I raise my head up at the wall and the clock perched up on it tells me that dad's not home. Dad won't be home after eight a.m. and it's past nine now. So it's a plus to wander around the home in this disheveled form of mine.
"Jihan?" Mom's head peeks out of the kitchen door, eyebrows scrunched as she finds my gaze. The moment it locks with mine, the crease on her forehead ceases and her mouth opens and closes like a fish taken away from water. "Oh, my!" A hand flies up to her mouth as a chuckle stumbles out of it.
"That blue crystal did work! That's— it's so good to see you like this again, honey!" Mom walks toward me quickly and takes my shoulders in her palm and gives them a little squeeze. I smile.
"I'm happy to stand like this too, mom." I look over at the counter and rub my grumbling stomach. "And I'm hungry." I hear her laugh as her scent thickens in satisfaction, filling the kitchen with a pleasant smell of jasmine. I walk toward the kitchen table and take a seat. I absorb this all because I barely sit and let mom do the work of feeding me when dad's around.
Once again, omega, remember?
"Do I need to take that medicine after I finish this?" I ask when mom places the plate before me.
"Yes."
"But, I'm okay now, so why do I need to take that?"
"I won't say it again. You need to take it." I roll my eyes at that but still dig in like a hungry man—that I am.
"So, how do you feel?" Mom pulls out the chair beside me and helps herself seated. I give her a funny look. Like she did see me walking down the stairs, didn't she? Then what's the point of asking this?
"Like really, how do you feel. . . umm, internally? I see that the fever is long gone. Plus nausea, but how about down there?" I follow her eyes travel down to my torso and still on my stomach. I swallow. Unsure of what to say.
Suddenly my appetite is nowhere to be found.
My stomach knots.
And the back of my eyes burn.
Mom looks at me expectantly. I nod. Because I'm sure I forgot how to speak. My tongue won't move. I feel mom's hand on my shoulder and I look over at her. Her brown eyes were thick with concern and the lines around her eyes more prominent from the frown.
"You okay, Jih?" She asks, squeezing my shoulder in her hand.
"I am." I'm not.
"Please don't worry about me again," I whisper.
"How can I not? You are my son." I look her in the eyes and offer her a tight-lipped smile.
Even I'm worried shitless about myself. Then how can I tell her to not do so?
"I'm okay, mom." I squeeze her hand and the lie slips out of my mouth easily like sand through the fingers.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
oceaanblues
oceaanblues it's been a while. . . isn't it?
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone