“Penis.”
Maya blinks. Once. Twice.
Then she bursts into laughter, head thrown back, the sound bright and full of life.
“Fine. I stand corrected. You’re practically a vixen now.”
I grin, but more than anything, I’m relieved to have successfully changed the subject.
Chronic illness truly sucks.But lately, chatting with Eli, I almost forget I’m the girl who cancels plans and tiptoes around my body’s whims.
With him, I’m Fangirl. The witty one. The bold one. The one who teases and gets teased right back.
But my body has other ideas. And today? It’s staging a full-on rebellion.
No amount of “penis” could unknot the anxiety in my stomach last night, and now I’m paying the price.
I know it the second I open my eyes. The ache behind them is already blooming—low and relentless.
I know it in the way my fingers throb at every joint, just trying to shut off my alarm.
I know it when my back screams in protest as I sit up in bed, my limbs stiff and heavy.
I feel twenty-nine going on ninety.
The thing about fibromyalgia and Sjögren’s is that they’re sneaky bastards.
You think you’re fine. You push a little. Stay up too late, stress over a decision, maybe flirt with the idea of being brave.
Thenbam, they slam the brakes.
Today, I was supposed to suggest a video call. I was supposed to write a few chapters of my fanfic.
Instead, I’m wrapped in my fluffiest socks, hoodie zipped to my chin, staring blankly at the TV and throwing a full-blown pity party.
I need the pain to ease. I’ve got too much to do,including a dreaded trip to a bridal shop an hour away tomorrow to try on a bridesmaid dress I already hate.
So after too much hesitation, I slip on my compression gloves and pop a gabapentin, despite knowing it’ll leave my brain foggier than a Regency-era moor, sulking over the lousy deck of cards I’ve been dealt.
My phone buzzes. A message from Eli.
Eli: Where are my chapters, Fangirl? You left me on one hell of a cliffhanger.
I sigh. Of course he’d remember. He always does.
He’s one of only two people who knows my secret.
That I’mAnlon4ever, the AO3 legend behindThe Chronicles of Persefiafanfics that half the fandom has bookmarked, and the other half pretends not to love.
Maya is the other. And when I told her, it officially tipped the scales from “unhealthy interest” to “unrecoverable obsession.” Her geek meter practically short-circuited.
My brain feels slower than usual, thick with fog, because instead of ignoring Eli’s message like I should do when I feel this way… I want his comfort. I wanthim.
But typing hurts. Everything hurts.
So in a moment of false bravery, I do something I’ve never done before. I send him a voice note.
“Tell me, Elijah-from-LA… do you ever feel inadequate? Because I do.”
