The Stinky Life I've Accepted

Chapter 30: Target

Maxon

I sigh as Dr. Minusk places the tray of steaming food on my blanketed lap. "Now this is not only part of the diet I created for you, but furthermore, Dr. Tibithia has made it very clear that you eat at least half of what is on this plate. Otherwise, as she put it, she will deal with you personally." He softly explains, and my Dad grabs my hand, squeezing it. 

"We'll make sure he does so. Thank you very much." Dad responds, and the man leaves shortly. I stare at the plate, blinking. 

How can I eat when my mate struggles every time he wakes up? What if he has another panic attack? I need to be there for him, or who knows-- I am torn from my thoughts when my Dad places his hand on my shoulder. 

"Max. Breathe, son." He says, and I groan as I follow his words. "I can't eat." I murmur, pushing the tray away. My dad straightens up, and Papa's eyes widen to some degree. 

"Not when he's in the state he's in. Not when I have no idea how he is, or how he's handling things right now. I can't eat when I have no idea what's going on. It's killing me." I continue, putting my face in my hands. 

"Oh, Maxon." Papa inhales, and my Dad's hand tightens on my shoulder. 

"How can you be there for him when you starve yourself? Or exhaust yourself? Son, it's destroying us, watching you like this. We know better than anyone what it's like to worry about your mate, but you can't do it to the point where your failing your body." Dad says, his hand leaving my shoulder. 

It is soon replaced by two hands pulling away mine from my face. 

"There's my boy. My sweet, little pup. You grew up too quickly, didn't you?" My papa hums as he pulls my head to his. 

"We want you to be okay. Your mate is everything to you, we know that. But you are everything to us. And you can't be a good mate if you don't take care of yourself." He gingerly adds.

A whimper bubbles up in my throat as the familiar smell of my papa engulfs me. Instinctively, I pull away, and limply fall into his shoulder, nuzzling his neck. 

He catches me easily, holding me. 

"Oh, my boy." He all but purrs, carding his fingers through my hair. "Can you promise me you'll try to eat something? Can we start there and see where it takes us?" He whispers in my ear, and I clutch his shirt, nodding my head that's hidden in his neck. 

"Thank you." He mumbles, letting go. I straighten up against the pillows of the bed, glancing down at the plate that my Dad placed back on my lap. 

He took it when I leaned in for my hug with papa to keep it from spilling. 

"I so happened to have talked with the doctor about what your favorite foods are. I know it won't be near as good as my recipe, but I hope that chicken and rice is a good start." Dad mentions as I pick up the fork.