You & I~Muke

-Michael-

thought i would be nice and give you some punk cashton, seeing as they are punk in this too:))

This chapter maybe triggering, it includes stuff regarding eating disorders, and if you find this unpleasant or triggering, I'm sorry and ily

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With the big, odd smelling pizza in front of me, I'm struggling not to look at it in disgust. I've already had two slices; maybe they'll let me off.

How can I tell them I don't like eating too much? How do I tell them that when I eat I only stick my fingers down my throat and force it back it up.

That's just what I do, and if they knew... I don't even know, I would never forgive myself if Luke found out how twisted I really am, about the marks along my arms, the way I don't eat, and the way I sob uncontrollably for hours and walk out the bathroom like I'm completely okay.

He would hate me, does.

And they will all leave; my mum did, Emily did, my old friends did as soon as the going got tough and knowing my luck, this blond angel will be running soon enough, too.

"Mikey?" I snap my head up to the sound of the nickname rolling off Luke's tongue. He soon realizes what he's said and his cheeks turn a soft pink- almost like my hair.

"mhm," I hum, not trusting myself to speak, knowing my own voice will betray me, and reveal my anxiousness.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern as I places a hand on my thigh, looking me in the eyes as the other boys behind us watch in equal concern.

I stand up, and I force a small smile, my hands shaking as I force them into fists. I gesture to the toilets, and walk off timidly, as quickly as I can.

I walk into the bathroom with relief, as the coldness and emptiness of the room over whelm me.

I take in and let out a breath.

I walk over to the toilet, not even able to stop myself before I lock the cubicle and stick two fingers down my throat; the gesture eerily familiar.

-Luke Pov-

I watch with anxiety as the beautiful, scared boy rushes towards the toilets, his eyes which darted now trained elsewhere, and his hands visibly shaking.

I turn to the alarmed boys and we all look at each other for a brief moment.

"What the hell do you think that was?" Cal asks, leaning in over the table, keeping his voice quiet as if Michael is behind us.

"I don't know..." I say, keeping in mind what his dad said earlier. Maybe he was anxious and needed to calm down. Either way I know I have to check up on him. "I'm going to go see if he's alright," I explain and they nod, I get to my feet, brushing myself off before I walk into the bathrooms.

I bush the heavy, red door open, and it doesn't take long before I can hear it.

The vomiting.

I rush in, and see there is only one occupied cubicle, which I can only assume Michael is in.

"Michael?" I call, knocking on the door, my voice trembling in its self.

He replies with a dry retch.

I call out for him again.

"i-I'm f-f-fine," I can hear his cries from here. "r-really, I'm just s-sick," he stutters and even though he can't see me, I shake my head. I wish he would just tell me the truth. I wish he saw that I care.