one shot collection

hole in my heart (i can't take it anymore)

dreamnap

tw: eating disorders, detailed descriptions of purging, body dysmorphia, self-hate, self-harm, suicidal thoughts

stay safe <3

the taste of bile in his mouth, acid corroding his teeth. cold porcelain stuck to his clammy cheek. his hands shaking as he sobs, clutching onto nothing.

it's a typical florida day.

nick stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. he's paler than a ghost, eyes tired and plagued by purple. they look more sunken in, but is his face thinner? of course not. why would it be? thank god it's not a full body mirror.

the minty mouthwash burns on his tongue. it's the same procedure as last time. same procedure as all the other times. he's in need of a shower too, but he doesn't feel like it. he just wants to sleep.

his fingers slowly unlock the door, opening it cautiously. he wouldn't want to draw too much attention to himself right now, being as ugly as he is. clay would probably gag just looking at him, at how disgusting he is. he probably smells like sweat and vomit still.

not that clay would find him out here at all, because nick can hear him shouting in his room behind the closed door. he's probably recording something with his friends, without nick. it's become more common these days, anyway. him being left out. though he can't complain when he's the one who keeps saying no to recording in the first place.

nick hears him laugh, and his heart flutters. his laugh is everything. he loves when clay is happy. it makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, makes him giggly like a middle schooler. actually, everything that clay does makes him giggly. the way he talks, acts, moves, looks. nick is head over heels in love with the man, and he knows it.

he knows it, and he hates it. because there's no way in hell clay loves him back.

he sighs, walking into his own bedroom and shutting the door behind him. he's exhausted, and the last thing he needs right now is to be overwhelmed with feelings. his bed engulfs him, and he eventually drifts off into an uneasy sleep.

it all started back in high school. he doesn't really know how or when exactly, all he remembers is that one night when he sat huddled over the toilet for the very first time.

he had been comfort eating that entire week, probably putting on multiple pounds from it alone. it got to a point where he simply couldn't take it anymore. he felt so nauseous, so absolutely nasty from indulging that he couldn't help what happened next.

his insecurities were what took over in the end. he already disliked his appearance long before that day, and that one binge was like the drop that made everything overflow. flushing the toilet, he swore to himself that he'd never do it again.

and for a while, he kept his promises. he tried exercising more to lose weight, to get that slim body that he'd always desired, but it didn't feel like he made any progress. it wasn't quick enough. he needed to be pretty now, not in a month, not in a year, now.

and that's how he found himself purging again and again. he realized just how much of a failure he was. he started binging again, and with that came more purging. it became an evil cycle with no end.

countless nights of crying, of sitting in the bathroom slouched against the tub, of squeezing at the fat in hopes that it would magically go away. his thoughts were shrouded in darkness for months. he felt helpless.

sometimes he thought that he'd be better off dead. that he should just kill himself, because no one would ever love him anyway. no one could possible love such an ugly, pathetic human being like him. he didn't deserve to exist. that's how horrible he was.