Lovesick
Lovesick (adj., \’ lŭv'sĭk'\): So deeply affected by love as to be unable to act normally.
Each day, a different doctor would go to the Kim household to examine their youngest son - Kibum. The young eighteen-year-old was sick as death, feverish and pale. The doctors, they’d take one look at him and shake their head. I’m sorry, they would tell the poor boy’s mother, it is almost impossible to save him. The distraught parents would ask what was wrong with their boy, and always, it was the same answer.
He’s dying of a broken heart.
Kim Jonghyun, Kibum’s older brother, was tired; tired of his parents bringing doctors to look at Kibum every other day. You don’t get it do you, he had yelled, Kibum’s dying! Doctors stopped coming after that. They decided to hire someone to take care of the sick Kibum. Neither of them had the heart to see their son in such a pitiful state. Jonghyun snickered in disgust. (and you call yourselves parents) It was a young lad, just months away from his twentieth. Lee Jinki, his name was. The son of a pauper; though in desperate need of money, he never stopped smiling.
Please, Jonghyun had pleaded on his first day, take good care of my brother. The look in Jonghyun’s eyes - the worry and the hope - struck something within Jinki. And when Jonghyun was sent away (to fight a war in a foreign land), Jinki knew that he had to help Kibum get better. Whenever Kibum had a nightmare, it would be Jinki who would hold his hand and tell him over and over again that everything was fine. Every night, before bedtime, Jinki would read Kibum a bedtime story, despite the younger boy’s protests of being too old for fairytales. You’re never too old for fairytales, Jinki had replied. And so, every night for the next five months, Jinki stayed by Kibum’s side.
When Kibum’s hair grew too long, Jinki whisked the boy into the bathroom to cut his hair. Kibum was worried at first. After all, five months with the boy had made him well aware of just how clumsy his Jinki was. (Yes, his Jinki.) But alas, his worry was not needed. The older boy cut Kibum’s hair nicely while he laughed, eyes hidden beneath overgrown bangs. And unknowingly, the broken bits of Kibum’s heart slowly healed.
On Kibum’s twentieth birthday, Jinki prepared a small party to celebrate their two-year friendship. Kibum smiled at the cake which was decorated by Jinki himself, judging by the smudges on top. When did we become friends, Kibum asked. Jinki smiled and took his hands, spinning him around the room in a celebratory dance. Since we first looked into each others’ eyes, Jinki replied cheekily, causing the younger boy to blush and whine, burying his face into Jinki’s shoulder, still dancing. When they stopped dancing, Jinki held onto Kibum’s hands, playing with the boy’s fingers. How’s your heart? Jinki blushed and looked down in embarrassment; Kibum smiled, pulling Jinki’s face to look at him.
How would I know, he whispered, it’s with you.
Kibum’s eyes closed as he leaned in to kiss Jinki. It was nothing; just the soft brush of lips, but for Jinki and Kibum, it was everything. Because loving each other was just so natural, like it was meant to be, supposed to be. Jinki sighed, we’re both boys. Kibum nuzzles Jinki’s neck with his nose, breathing out slowly. I know, he spoke, but we deserve our fairytale ending. And Jinki’s own words rang in his ears. (You’re never too old for fairytales.)
And when Jonghyun returned, his brother greeted him with a hug. On the way in, Kibum’s legs gave way and he fell, sprawled over the living room carpet. Is he alright? Jonghyun took a small step forward, but was stopped by his mother who just smiled and shook her head lightly. Jonghyun watched as Jinki ran over to help Kibum up, but ended up tripping and joining Kibum on the floor. The two of them laughed and got up together.
He’s just lovesick.
Each day, a different doctor would go to the Kim household to examine their youngest son - Kibum. The young eighteen-year-old was sick as death, feverish and pale. The doctors, they’d take one look at him and shake their head. I’m sorry, they would tell the poor boy’s mother, it is almost impossible to save him. The distraught parents would ask what was wrong with their boy, and always, it was the same answer.
He’s dying of a broken heart.
Kim Jonghyun, Kibum’s older brother, was tired; tired of his parents bringing doctors to look at Kibum every other day. You don’t get it do you, he had yelled, Kibum’s dying! Doctors stopped coming after that. They decided to hire someone to take care of the sick Kibum. Neither of them had the heart to see their son in such a pitiful state. Jonghyun snickered in disgust. (and you call yourselves parents) It was a young lad, just months away from his twentieth. Lee Jinki, his name was. The son of a pauper; though in desperate need of money, he never stopped smiling.
Please, Jonghyun had pleaded on his first day, take good care of my brother. The look in Jonghyun’s eyes - the worry and the hope - struck something within Jinki. And when Jonghyun was sent away (to fight a war in a foreign land), Jinki knew that he had to help Kibum get better. Whenever Kibum had a nightmare, it would be Jinki who would hold his hand and tell him over and over again that everything was fine. Every night, before bedtime, Jinki would read Kibum a bedtime story, despite the younger boy’s protests of being too old for fairytales. You’re never too old for fairytales, Jinki had replied. And so, every night for the next five months, Jinki stayed by Kibum’s side.
When Kibum’s hair grew too long, Jinki whisked the boy into the bathroom to cut his hair. Kibum was worried at first. After all, five months with the boy had made him well aware of just how clumsy his Jinki was. (Yes, his Jinki.) But alas, his worry was not needed. The older boy cut Kibum’s hair nicely while he laughed, eyes hidden beneath overgrown bangs. And unknowingly, the broken bits of Kibum’s heart slowly healed.
On Kibum’s twentieth birthday, Jinki prepared a small party to celebrate their two-year friendship. Kibum smiled at the cake which was decorated by Jinki himself, judging by the smudges on top. When did we become friends, Kibum asked. Jinki smiled and took his hands, spinning him around the room in a celebratory dance. Since we first looked into each others’ eyes, Jinki replied cheekily, causing the younger boy to blush and whine, burying his face into Jinki’s shoulder, still dancing. When they stopped dancing, Jinki held onto Kibum’s hands, playing with the boy’s fingers. How’s your heart? Jinki blushed and looked down in embarrassment; Kibum smiled, pulling Jinki’s face to look at him.
How would I know, he whispered, it’s with you.
Kibum’s eyes closed as he leaned in to kiss Jinki. It was nothing; just the soft brush of lips, but for Jinki and Kibum, it was everything. Because loving each other was just so natural, like it was meant to be, supposed to be. Jinki sighed, we’re both boys. Kibum nuzzles Jinki’s neck with his nose, breathing out slowly. I know, he spoke, but we deserve our fairytale ending. And Jinki’s own words rang in his ears. (You’re never too old for fairytales.)
And when Jonghyun returned, his brother greeted him with a hug. On the way in, Kibum’s legs gave way and he fell, sprawled over the living room carpet. Is he alright? Jonghyun took a small step forward, but was stopped by his mother who just smiled and shook her head lightly. Jonghyun watched as Jinki ran over to help Kibum up, but ended up tripping and joining Kibum on the floor. The two of them laughed and got up together.
He’s just lovesick.