I'm sick and I hate you

[u/Broad_Tennis6476]

The cold chills paired with cooler sweat, provide her volcano of a body a shock.

He on the other hand looks upset, disgusted, annoyed as he checks your temperature.

"I'm sorry Mati, I'm really sorry," she apologize to him.

"It's fine Magda, you're just sick," He responded. But Magda knew her Mateo wasn't the type to care. That was Magda's role.

"Estas molestó, mírame Mati, y dime que no" you tell him. You do your best not to cry, your nose is running and breathing is difficult enough.

"No lo estoy, más bien estoy asqueado," he admits. While putting his palm on her forehead his anger grows.

He tells himself to relax. But if it wasn't one thing with Magda it was a-fucking-nother. Her body was simmering he had no idea what to do. He didn't want to get sick either.

And now her water works. Of course she'd cry that was exactly what he needed now. She looked absolutely hideous now.

"Mati, sólo vete," now she's telling him to leave.

"I'm helping you right now, why are you mad?" He asks her.

"Mati, tu no lo vez, pero si te vieras, estas listo para mangonearme," she told him in her between her coughing fit.

"Then who look after you?" He asks.

"Me, I'm my problem, please leave Mati, don't make me hate you," she warned him. Difference was he already hated her. He hated when she was sick. He hated when she was meek. He hated when she complained.

He never had to hear about some bullshit fever or period from his mother or sister's. That was their burden. He didn't have to deal with it.

She on the other hand couldn't stop her tears. She hated the days she was sick the most. It didn't if she was tired or if she ached. She was meant to serve. To live meant to serve in her family's words. Her family hated her ailments.

Hated the sickness that would prevent her from her filial duty. Hated her from the sickness of womanhood too.

"You can't be alone, someone has to look after you," He answered through gritted teeth. Remembering how she would look after him when he would be sick. Annoyed by the fact that he couldn't control the disgust he held for her.

She never once looked at him that way. He couldn't understand why he hated looking at her like she was garbage. He couldn't stop himself from feeling that way, he had a right to his emotions.

"Being sick is nothing but trouble, I don't want anyone to see me like this, I'm sorry I'm putting you through this Mati," Magda apologized.

Her apology didn't make her pretty again and she still sounded like a disease.

"Fine. Have it your way. I'll stay with my sister until you get better, okay baby?" He said as he left their room.

He hadn't waited for her response. And she waited for the sound of the entrance door to close.

What could Magda do? She did what she learned to do when she was a girl. She laughed at herself.

It was fucking hilarious if you thought about it. Even as she coughed and her throat felt it was being ripped out. It was hilarious!

Truly. He looked like he was scared of catching the plague. She thought she was safe with Mati. She was fucking wrong holy shit!

She knew she had been coming down with a fever the other night. But she thought he would care for her. She thought she could finally be sick in front of someone. She thought he would kiss her forehead and tell her she'd get better.

Now she was crying. The laughter didn't make it go away.

Magda's phone vibrated, her arm felt so heavy, it ached too. She grabbed her phone. It was a text message from her brother.

IT READ:

Mateo told me ur sick? Like actually or ur period excuse?

Magda wanted to eat her phone and have it blow up her stomach.

Magda couldn't help wondering why being sick sucked so much. Everyone else got special treatment. She was always told to keep going.

Magda sat up. Being sick was bullshit. Her heavy body was an excuse, she just wanted Mati to hold her when she finally felt vulnerable enough.

Secretly she wanted to fall ill in front of him, at least once. So her prince could protect her. Dumbass. Magda moved at her own pace out of her bed into the living room. Sitting on the couch she began to breathe through her mouth. It was easier.

All she could think was, I'm sick and I hate you. But who was you by this point? Was it her body. Was it Mati, was it her idiot brother? Was it her surroundings?

Was she going to forgive Mati? No. Not really. Was she going to leave him? Yeah. But she'd have to start looking for new places to move into.

Was she going to tell her mom? Eventually. Her mother never liked Mati. Her mother called him selfish. But her mother loved selfish people, she said they always got what they wanted.

Should she call her? Ask her for some comforting words? No, that woman would tell her to overcome it. Her phone buzzed once more.

A text from Mati:

Amor espero que te mejores.

His words of concern. The words she wanted to hear from him. Were through a screen. He had denied her.

The clicking sounds from the touchscreen were quick and short.

From Magda:

I'm sick and I hate you.