-DISCONTINUED-ISH-Between the Lines, A Lams Fanfic-DISCONTINUED-ISH-

17~Bingeing~17

TW: Eating disorder, bulimia, vomiting, self-hatred, crying, hitting one's self, cussing, and bingeing/purging. Enjoy. :D

Tuesday: 1:29 A.M.

Thomas stirred from his sleep, disturbed by the sound of retching. He briefly thought it was his friend, John, who was prone to bouts of nausea. But as he turned to his side, he noticed that James, his other half, was not beside him. 

 A sense of cold gripped him, as he realized James was not in bed with him. He looked around the room, and his gaze settled on the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, and the light was on. He got up from bed, feeling a bit groggy and disoriented. 

As he made his way to the bathroom, he brushed his shoulder against the wall a few times. He knocked on the door, and then slowly pushed it open. James was on his knees, hunched over the toilet bowl, retching and coughing. Thomas walked over to him and knelt beside him on the cold, white floor. 

He rubbed James's back, tracing the shape of a heart a few times, trying to soothe him. "Hey Jammy, how are you?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"I don't know, Tommy. I feel sick and lightheaded," James replied weakly. 

"Do you want me to get medicine?" Thomas offered, already starting to stand up.

James grabbed Thomas's arm before he could leave. "Please don't. I'm fine. Just give me a minute," he pleaded softly.

"I'll go back to bed then, okay baby?" Thomas cooed, leaning in to kiss James's forehead tenderly. 

"Mhm," James murmured, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. As Thomas left the bathroom and closed the door behind him, 

James let out a sigh and wiped his mouth with a tissue. He wasn't sick. He was struggling with bulimia, and it had tormented him for years. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't help it. He looked at his knuckles, which were callused and rough from the frequent purging. 

He hadn't binged in a long time and was getting better at controlling his urges. He knew he could talk to Thomas about it, and that Thomas would help him. But Thomas had his problems to deal with, especially with his and his mother's relationship declining. James didn't want to burden him with his issues. He flushed the toilet again, and washed his hands, trying to clear his mind. He crawled back into bed with Jefferson as he felt his arms wrapped around his waist.

James woke back up in his bed rolled over and looked at his alarm clock, 6:34 A: M, where was Thomas? James walked out of his room the emptiness in his stomach killing him, he grabbed the remote and put on a show. 

The lights of the TV were bright and they were starting to strain James's eyes. As James sat there, his stomach growled in hunger, James looked at the kitchen, and his mouth watered. "You're not hungry," James scolded himself rather loudly.

James walked over to the kitchen and started eating food, snacks, cereal, and other shit he could get his hands on. He started crying when he was on his third bowl of cereal, he cried more when he finished his 2 bags of popcorn. He grabbed two bags of party-sized chip bags finishing both of them.

James went to the bathroom got on his knees in front of the toilet and shoved two fingers down his throat as much as possible, throwing up. The taste of bitterness, and metallic on his tongue was killing him, he shoved his fingers down his throat again. He started gagging until more puke came out of his mouth.

James flushed to the toilet and washed his mouth again before seeing himself in a mirror, "You so stupid, why can't you be normal? I hate you so much your so stupid, ugly, and fat, why does anybody like you? You're annoying and everyone hates you," James said looking at himself in the mirror, pointing out everything he hated about himself.