"Saviour Will Be There..." ((Andley Fanfic))

Chapter Fifteen

Andy's POV:

I awoke the next morning with a sore throat and a pounding headache. It only took a moment or two as memories from last night began flooding my mind. I still wasn't over the shock of it all, that Ashley finally knew I had what some might call a problem. I didn't necessarily see it as that big of deal...I just need to get a grip on things and I'll be able to handle it. I'm fine...
To say the least I know I'm not fine.. I know I'm screwed up, I know I'm a failure, I know how imperfect I am. I know that I'm too broken to be fixed.
​​​​​​I'm almost afraid that if Ashley tries to help me, because I know he will, that it'll come to point where he just can't handle it anymore.
Everyone leaves sometime, it hasn't happened yet, but it will. Ashley will assume that he doesn't make me happy, and he'll leave.. He does make me happy, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm broken and still depressed as hell. Even after we started dating the depression is still there. The thoughts of self hate are still there. The fact that I may or may not want to end my life at some point down the road because I can't take this pain anymore; yeah, that's still there, too. Ashley eases some of the pain I'm feeling, but he can't take it all away, he's only one guy and I can't expect him to magically fix me or whatever. Hell, he probably doesn't even know where to start. But, I've decided that I don't need help. I have an ounce or two of pride left, not much, but some, and the worst thing that could happen is for Ashley to take pity on me. I don't want that. I'm the one who created this mess and I don't expect him to clean it up.
I decided I'd go on a run before Ashley woke up. I needed to clear my head, and I just wanted to be alone. Why is it that the more people try to help me, the further I push them away? I do my best to be strong, but I don't feel I have any strength left.
I carefully climbed out of the bunk, feeling around in the dark for my suitcase. Once I'd grabbed it, I pulled my hoodie and sweats out, going to the bathroom to change. I closed the door to the bathroom and pulled of my t-shirt. I stared at myself in the mirror and it was enough to make me want to cry. I didn't though. After last night's incident I didn't have any tears left, I had cried until my eyes were swollen as well as my throat. It was just the way Ashley's voice cracked when he spoke to me and that tears were about spill at any given moment. Knowing that I was the cause for it made me feel like the most horrible person on earth. After that I couldn't stop myself from crying, the guilt and embarrassment I felt for upsetting him, not to mention that my brain had finally clicked, I knew there was something wrong with me; it was just was too much for me to bear.

​​​​I stepped onto the scale beside the shower and cringed. I hadn't checked my weight for about two days, three at the most, and was completely repulsed by the number. I had gained almost a pound, probably because I'd binged twice within this past week. I had to have control over this. I couldn't keep allowing myself to slip up and not expect consequences.
I kicked the scale angrily and grabbed my hoodie, heading for the door after I'd changed. I quietly put my shoes on, and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. I hadn't even reached the door when I felt someone's arms around me.

"Where are you going?"

​​​​​​"Damn it Ashley, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
I grumbled, pulling away from him.

"You still didn't answer my question, Andrew."

I rolled my eyes as I peeled him off of me.

"it's non of your business where I'm going. There I answered you, now let me go."
I frowned, my patience running dry. I just wanted to go for a run, then I'd be back and he argue about whatever the hell he wanted and we could both be miserable. He shook his head and grabbed my arm tightly, pulling me back to our room and sitting me down on the bunk. I was now tempted to knee him in the crotch. I crossed my arms and glared at him disapprovingly.

"what'd you want?"
I snapped, trying to remain calm.

He laughed, almost sarcastically. I saw the pained look in his eyes and knew right where this was heading. I.didn't.need.his.help.
​​​​He closed the door, leaning against the frame. It's almost as if he thought I'd try to make a run for it. He began rambling all these questions, some I didn't even know how to answer. The final one being,
'when did you develope an eating disorder?'
I stared at him in anger, was he mocking me?

"When did you become a psychiatrist? Because last I checked you were just a bassist in a rock band."
I scoffed, watching as he rolled his eyes.

"Well it's kind of obvious. You don't eat, you've lost a lot of weight, you exercise excessively even though you can barely stand, you're extremely depressed. So stop being such a jerk and let me help you. I don't want you to die, Andy..."

He now had tears in his eyes and was hugging me. What's he talking about? I'm not going to die. Even though I really want to at the moment, I'm still here aren't I?
I bit my lip, feeling slightly bad for upsetting him. Cause that's all I do now, upset people..