"I’m just dieting for a while, a month or two. My managers asked me to, don’t worry about it."

That’s what Sunghoon had told you. A diet.

But he was acting strange. It’s been weeks. He refuses to eat anything besides rice cakes, a slice of bread every now and then, small amounts of fruits and soup broth. Small bowls at a time, his bites are always calculated, hands shaky.

But you saw it first in the way that his shirts started to get a little looser, the gap between his thighs got bigger. Heard it in the way that you passed by the bathroom some nights and you could hear him choking on his fingers, forcing up the measly amount of food he ate that day.

Felt it in the way he avoided any mention of possibly having a problem, that anything was going on. He just refused and changed the topic.

Even when he sat at the island in the kitchen of your guys’s apartment. Staring at a proper dinner that you had made.

“I can’t eat all this, I’m still dieting.”

He said in a casual tone, pushing the plate away.

“Could you maybe half the portion..?”

A smile twitched at his lips, his eyes almost pleading. Pleading for you to not make him eat something that isn’t a safe food. And that was your final straw, knowing something was wrong.

He’s refused to change in front of you so many times you can barely count. Your eyebrows furrow at him as he smiles again.

“Your cooking is amazing.. I just have to stay on the diet plan.”

The day after, another refusal of dinner, and instead having a single rice cake and a glass of water to sustain himself.

You knew he was going to die if this kept happening. He was either going to die, or something terribly wrong would happen in his body. Something you couldn’t fix with a kiss or reassuring words.

It’s early in the morning, around 9am. He’s trying to eat, hands shaky as he takes a spoonful of the plain soup broth. It’s a portion for a toddler.

His shoulders are slumped, movements lethargic and tired.

He’s not living. He’s surviving.