Internet Scales (Patrick/Pete)

16 - Too small

Pete's POV

Patrick was in the shower so I went into his room and got the scales out. 
"So, we meet again" I mutter, stepping on them. The arrow swung round gently to six stone. Freaking hell. I was losing again. I jumped off and put them back in their place. I didn't matter how much I ate, I didn't gain a thing. Patrick would start noticing. I keep seeing him look at my collar bones and my arms when we're eating breakfast. I need to gain something or he would start asking questions again. 

Patrick's POV

I'd lost maybe a stone and a half in a couple of days. It felt good. I know it wasn't the best way but it was the only way I was going to lose weight. I looked down. I was still big, yeah. If Pete or my dad found them, I'd be screwed. I told Pete that I found a diet but... well. Technically I had just it involved pills, that had the word diet in the title.  I wasn't going to let it get out of hand like it does with some people. I wasn't going to be in the death count. I wash the last of the shampoo out of my hair and turned the shower off. I grab a towel and it just fits around my body. I'd left my glasses in the bedroom, frick. I couldn't see a thing because of the steam. I pull on my comfy, big jeans and a shirt that was a bit small. My goal was to fit into the shirt that Pete got me a few years ago. I wanted him to see me that thin again.

I used the wall to get back to my room, walking into a few things on the way. Pete came out of my room looking really confused as to why I was walking into things. He quickly came to my side, chuckling to himself.
"I can't see, don't laugh!"
"I swear you're so blind"
"I am!" I exclaimed a bit too loudly. Pete laughed. I hit him lightly and start laughing. He starts tickling me when we get into my room.
"Stop! Pete, stop!" I squirmed. My chest started getting tight. Why now? Really? I was having fun. Pete kept tickling me. 
"No, Pete, seriously, stop, I can't breathe" I mumble with most of the breath I have left in my lungs. He didn't stop. I probably didn't hear me. I push him off and he's really really light. He sits back on his legs. I needed my inhaler. I was wheezing and Pete must have got the message because he sprung up and ran to get my inhaler from the hallway, swearing at himself. I skids across the floor to me on his knees and throws the cap somewhere in the room. He puts the end to my lips and presses the top three times. It wasn't helping. He pressed it more. I could only have ten and if that didn't work, I had to call for an ambulance. He pressed it twice more.
"Come on Patrick. Please pull through buddy. Why was I so freaking stupid! Jesus..." He gave me two more and I was still struggling. Somehow he managed to get me in a sitting up/ slouching position. I don't even know how he did it since I was about three times the size of him. But he did it. He gave me two more puffs and I started coughing but it was getting easier. Pete hugged me, not tightly thank God, but he still hugged me for what feels like forever, until I was okay.

"I'm so sorry." He started to cry. He felt so bad. He buried his face into my side, tugging on  my shirt. I stroked his hair.
"It's okay" I tell him, breathlessly.