F L O W E R S | TRONNOR A.U.

T W O

Troye is sat on a stool in front of an easel in the studio at 11PM, working away at a brand new, acrylic painting. The project given to him in class was to take your biggest struggle in life at the moment, and turn it into art. Not to mention, at the beginning of the year, Professor Hart had assigned all the students an object to focus on for the entire course. She went around the room with a hat filled to the brim of destines and dreams. Troye reached in and pulled out a slip of paper that said FLOWERS in his professor's messy, all capitalized handwriting.

At first, Troye figured that this would be the easiest course of his college career; he's loved to create flowers since his early teens. But the assignment is proving to pull more emotion out of him than he thought it would, and that is the hardest thing for him. Troye doesn't know how to express his feelings without harming himself, he can't remember the last time he knew how to do that.

Troye spent a lot of time brainstorming before he came up with an idea that wouldn't get him reported to guidance. He started to paint a bouquet of wilting flowers with a full watering can tilting above it, but there's no water dripping out.

Here's the symbolism: Troye is the flowers, anorexia is the watering can, and food is the water. Troye is slowly dying without the nutrition he needs, he knows it, and he knows the water he needs is right there. His eating disorder is holding it from him and not allowing the water to pour through. It's the perfect image to Troye, and he's halfway done with the project when Connor startles him from the doorway of his studio.

"I was trying to figure out what it smells like in here, and then I figured that it smells like you and art supplies," his familiar voice fills the silence, and Troye jolts a little in his seat.

He looks back at his boyfriend disbelievingly with a small smile. "How do you always manage to sneak up on me?"

"Aw, sorry love. I figured you would be here since you hadn't come back to the apartment yet today," Connor explains as he walks into the room, and that's when Troye notices it. "I brought you something to eat, I thought you might be hungry."

Ana: Great, this is a disaster. You've been doing so good today, Troye. You haven't eaten at all. Figure out a way to get out of eating this, it's for your own good and you know it.

Troye, in his head: I feel dizzy and weak, I should eat the carrots.

Ana: You won't get down to 115lbs by eating. You know that.

So Troye smiles sweetly and deceivingly, "Thanks, I'm starving." He takes the bag of carrots, the chocolate milk, and the chicken wrap that all probably came from the cafeteria. Troye knows immediately that the bag of carrots is 35 calories, and he knows that half the carton of milk is 60. He'll nibble on the carrots for too long just to look like he's really eating them, and Connor can't tell if he drank all the milk or not.

95 calories, plus the 15 in the tea he drank at lunch earlier, is a grand total of 110 calories, and Troye feels good about that because he knows he burned at least that just from walking to class this morning. Sometimes he leaves early so he can take a detour to burn more than he needs. Troye lifts a single carrot to his mouth and crunches it in half. He spends far too long chewing it until it's dried up and rough going down his sore throat, and Ana whispers to him what he's already trained to think in his own mind before she can say it.

Ana: Good, it should hurt.

Troye soothes the burn with a swish of the milk Connor gave him, thanking the stars that the cafeteria always has fat-free dairy products. Troye lost 5lbs on a three-week, fat-free diet in 12th grade before his mom forced him to eat something with protein. He knows it works; he's done everything.