Kepala Pusing Saat Lapar Novels & Stories

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever awkwardness awaited me downstairs. As I descended the stairs, an unexpected aroma hit me. The smell of fresh coffee and... was that pancakes? My empty stomach growled loudly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since... well, I couldn't actually remember when. The scent only intensified my headache, a cruel reminder of my current state. I was fucking hungover and hungry, not a good combination. I followed my nose to the kitchen, my footsteps slowing as I approached the doorway. The sight that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks.

As soon as the first spoonful reached my stomach, a loud growl followed, and I looked around the room embarrassed. "Yikes! It sounds like you haven't eaten in almost three months, geez," she remarked, making her way out while I focused back on the soup in front of me. Relishing every spoonful, I could feel bits of energy slowly returning to me. Finally, warmth returned to my freezing body. I didn't want to rush it despite my extreme hunger, to avoid overeating and getting a stiff stomach, which would land me in the hospital.

Gives me the ‘pass out’ sensation in the deepest parts of my stomach. Today starts on a very different note. I blink into a new morning with a brain splitting headache and a very angry stomach, that just won’t stop grumbling. Yup, that’s what happens to you the next day, when a certain six foot something, grey eyes, obsessed with black Italian man starts the morning with you and you refuse to eat to spite him - who doesn’t even care that you starve to death. So, yeah, I didn’t eat the whole of yesterday. Twenty- four hours hunger strike in a fit of rage. Like what the fuck did I do?

“How about stomach pain? Any headache?” “Sometimes, I feel stomach ache, but mostly, yeah, the headache.” “What do you think is the cause of your headaches, Miss Ferrero?” “Hmm, I guess due to work?” she said. “I've been too busy lately with work and it's the only time I get to relax, but the pain itself keep following me. It's annoying.” “Headache… dizziness… nausea…” the doctor muttered. “Do you often feel sick? How often it is that you feel nausea?”

he pressed on. “I thought it was hunger, dizziness, nauseousness, fatigue, migraine, a lot” I rambled. "You're hungry?", he raised a dark eyebrow. "That's odd." He looked concerned. The look sent chills up my spine but I wasn't surprised, he looked every other kind of concerned. His eyes narrowed. "Do you need something to eat now? I will call a doctor after now “ “I don't think I want to eat anymore “ I muttered. “For now “ I added, upset that it might offend him.

My stomach growled loudly, so loud I actually froze a little. “What is wrong with me?” I muttered under my breath. Hungry. Again. And not just hungry—starving. The kind of hunger that makes your head warm and your chest ache. Was it stress? Was it fear? Was it— I cut the thought off. I wasn’t ready for it. Not now.

" If you eat too much food, you're going to get so fat and you're stomach is gonna be like a balloon," I chuckled at my silly joke which no one was obviously buying. Max furrowed his brows probably having a thought about what I said but after seconds of thinking, he looked back at me and shrugged his shoulders. " Pass me your plate please," I scoffed before pushing my tray of plate towards him which he didn't hesitate to grab. " You should at least have something, I don't want you starving yourself," A sudden strong wave of headache pounded on my head, nearly knocking me off. I painfully whimpered, bringing my hand to the side of my head and feeling my temperature suddenly rising.

He looked like he was trying to physically push a headache out of his skull. "I’m not hungry, Andrea," he said, his voice sounding cold. I stood by the desk, clutching the warm flask. "You must have a massive headache. You didn't eat anything at home before you rushed out of the house. You can't run a company on an empty stomach and a hangover."

My head pounded with a dull, persistent ache, like a drumbeat of despair behind my eyes, and my chest still felt like someone had tied a rope tightly around it, suffocating me, squeezing the air out of my lungs with every shallow breath. I practically rushed to the kitchen, drawn by an animalistic urge. My stomach twisted from hunger, with a sharp, urgent pain that overshadowed everything else, even the lingering humiliation. I hadn't eaten in what felt like days, only vague sips of water whenever I could sneak them. Every fiber of my being screamed for sustenance.

Screams and wailing hits her ears from all directions, and the barrage of sounds hitting her brain was too much for her to handle. She grips her head with both hands and screams out in pain before collapsing to the ground. ** Why do I feel so hungry?** she thought, before blacking out...