ADRONITIS (II) : tmr minho

26: I could be Nervous

Dawn 26

My stomach lurches, and I am up and running across the room. I trip and fall in the hall, barely making it to the closet before I start throwing up. Vomit is really gross, and my head hurts from sleeping in a ponytail, but most mornings I've been sick lately.

I would ask Leo for help but has enough on her plate right now.

My throat burns as I continue to pour out the contents of last night's dinner, and lunch, and maybe even breakfast. Even if I stop eating, the nausea doesn't go away. Instead, I'll just start bloody dry-heaving like I did during the meeting. Which was super not a good time, to say the least. Would rather not do that again if I could avoid it.

Would rather not be staring at the contents of my stomach this early in the morning. My face must be so red, since it really burns. So does my stomach and my throat though, so that's nice. Drool escapes my lips, hot and messy. Really gross, actually, and I'm not one who is super sensitive to gross stuff. It's not really how I work. It's honestly just a pain, and both physically and metaphorically.

Not only do I have to throw this out, again, without anyone catching me, but I literally feel like a piece of klunk. Seriously, would not recommend this. Zero out of ten.

"Are you okay?" Minho asks, behind me.

He shuts the door, moving down next to me. I start vomiting again, into the bucket. He helps hold my hair behind my head, rubbing my back. My eyes are watering. How do I even have more food in me?

I lean backwards, pushing the bucket in front of me. You know, it feels better having vomited than it did before, although I also don't necessarily like that I've puked my guts up before the crack of dawn.

Did I mention, unrelated, that it is shucking awful that I'm named Dawn? My Mum is probably a sadist. Wherever she is.

"Should I get Clint?" Minho is crouching next to me, rubbing my shoulders up and down.

I shake my head. If he gets Clint, Clint's just going to get Leo. She really can't deal with my sickness right now. Honestly, I wouldn't have been surprised if she had jumped last night. For some reason, she is really upset.

Which is why I didn't tell her that Newt confessed to me that he loves her, or that he told me she loves me. That would just make a bigger mess for her right now. She doesn't deserve it.

"Are you sure?" Minho pesters on. "Dee, I love you, but you look like you crawled out of the sewer. Like, a rat. Like klunk, seriously."

I almost laugh, but my stomach continues to garble. Leaning against the wall, I turn to glare at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Min."

He shrugs, sympathetic but also honest. If there is one person who will always tell me the truth, it's Minho. I can always trust him to tell me a harsh reality. Exhibit A, I look like klunk. I feel it too though, so I guess I'm not surprised.

"I'm just worried about you," he manages. "You make it way too easy to worry. I know Fry's food is bad, but not like this."

I know that. Doesn't seem to matter, since I can't stop vomiting. It keeps happening, over and over, and nothing is calming my stomach. Something is stressing me out. Probably Leo, also probably Ben, and also probably Minho's feelings. I feel like I'm becoming Michelle, harbouring up these emotions, but talking about it makes me want to throw up more.