Don't Let Go Of Me

Chapter 11

[Big TW for Eating Disorders]

The sun rays were the first thing that he felt on his skin. They weren't really ticking, it was more like the feeling of tiny needles which poke you. Normally it wouldn't be like this.

Sun rays were supposed to spread warmth, weren't they? So why did they only bring him discomfort right now? The next thing he noticed was how wrong his bedding felt. Something about the texture was throwing him off and a cold shudder ran down his spine.

Immediately he pulled his hand away from the fabric and kicked it off the edge of his bed, as far away as possible so he wouldn't have to feel the shudder again. The sun must have still been rising, because only dim, golden light broke through the holes of his blinds.

Why was he up so early? He wasn't normally the type to get up with the first sun rays. Usually he enjoyed dust way more than dawn, often sitting on the flat roof of the garage till the early morning hours.

It had something calming to it, the breeze messing up his hair while music with a bass boosted out of his headphones and made him feel like the only person on this world. Like he was the main character for once. That people wanted him. That he wasn't useless.

His legs felt way too unsteady as he swung them over the edge of the bed, but laying in bed longer would not help him fall asleep again either way. Once awake it was hard to fall back asleep.

The floor was weird. Why did everything just feel so surreal? Like he would wake up from this at any given moment. That this was a dream and not the reality. Even the feeling of the cold floor under his bare feet was way off the norm.

Finally standing he stretched his tired limps, grabbing at a wall for stability, the world going black for a moment. The colors behind his eyes seemed comforting tho, as if they were inviting him to just let himself fall into their comfort. Before he could reach out tho, they faded and the reality came back like a whiplash.

His bed, his drawers, his PC. Everything was were it always was. Were it always belonged. Shaking his head softly he finally got to open the door, being met with a drop in temperature in the hallway outside his room. The sun wasn't high enough to warm it up and it had cooled down from the rain last night.

20 small steps to dream's door, only 15 if he would be in a hurry. The whole house was quiet and deep down it was suffocating him. Maybe it wasn't so much the silence but more that silence meant absence of people. It meaned that he was alone like he had always been, that he had made a mistake again.

Shaking hands wrapped itself around the handle of the door and he carefully pushed down and entered the room. It wasn't dark inside, more dim because the blinds hadn't been shut properly. He couldn't blame dream tho, the guy always had a lot on his mind and more so after last night.

He stopped.

His heart started beating faster, feeling like reaching all the way up his throat. Ringing filled his ears, finally drowning out the silence in the room. Why was he there.
This was meant to be their thing.

Dream was laying in George's arms, all cuddled up and snuggly. Lime plastic between his lips and looking more comfortable than he had been for a long time.

Red strings started to connect inside his brain like a spider making a net, only to catch all the negative thoughts at once. Dream must have had some kind of panic attack, otherwise he wouldn't have brought out, or thrown the black box on the ground as carelessly as it was currently.

Had George found him?

Why hadn't he stayed, why didn't dream reach out to him like he always used to? He was the one who was always there for him in those situations, ever since they were little kids. But now..

Now he had George. George, the one guy who said that he was oh so bad at comforting people. Suddenly that changed. It changed for dream. Of course it did. Poor dream who can't do this because of that and so on..

Did he ask once how he himself felt?

His mind was torn between jealousy, love and sadness. He loved them. He was jealous that he wasn't the one being cuddled by George. Was jealous to not be the one comforting dream and sad because he felt useless. Not needed..

Apparently George could handle the situation pretty well on his own, no need for himself to get involved again.

He was so sick of feeling this way. Small tears prickled in the corners of his eyes as he left the room as quietly as he entered it only minutes ago.

Not once did they ask how he himself felt. He was there to comfort and keep George safe when he broke down. He was there when dream was having episodes when one panic attack followed the next one. He was always there god damn it!

But he didnt belong. He was useful as long as he had a purpose to stay, otherwise he was just a stranger to his own friends. The long nights where he had cried himself to sleep on his own while dream and George had been gaming and laughing downstairs.

The man only realized his surroundings as he ran into the kitchen counter. It felt so cool under his tight grip. It was scary to loose his last bit of composure.

'Maybe they would like you more if you didn't look like that?'

His head snapped around, eyes darted big to search for the source of the voice, only to be met with no one. He was the only one standing in the big kitchen.

'I know you haven't eating since last lunch but that is not enough. You won't ever reach your goal if you just eat again today.'

Fingers tangled in his hair, back to the kitchen counter. All he wanted was for this voice to go away and leave him alone. It wasn't true. He was fine.

'Please, obviously they would never choose you as their first option, have you looked into a mirror recently? You're pityful to look at.'

His hand wandered from his hair to his arm, pinching at the skin there, continuing at his stomach afterwards. It was true that he wasn't pretty or petite like George. Neither was he strong and built like dream. He wasn't pleasant to look at.

'Do you now see what I am talking about? But this can be fixed. You just cut out the food and everything will be fine. They will notice you. You will belong somewhere.'

He wanted to belong. He had never wanted anything else then just to belong somewhere. To not feel like another species just because he couldn't fit the norm.

'I mean, it was no wonder that nobody adopted you, was it? Who would want a child that ends up looking like that?'

The shaking set in, followed by all the pictures and scenes rushing through his head. Days from when he still lived at the orphanage. How he was so excited every time a family came to look for a child. The tears that fell when they didnt even look at him while smiling at all the others.

'Good boy, so we came to a conclusion yeah? You just skip your meals as often as possible. If they want to eat with you, you can always throw it back up.'

His eyes weren't focusing properly due to all his tears, the world around him turning into a mush of beige, blue and caramel. He didnt want to but how else was he supposed to belong. To maybe be wanted one day.

This was his only way at getting them back, at stopping them from throwing him out and abandoning him.

A quiet purr pulled him out of his thoughts, only now feeling the warmth spread on his lap. Patched started rubbing her small head against him and the tears fell. At least she still wanted him, even if it might only be because she was hungry.

He was fine with it. Everything was fine.

Sapnap was always fine.