Prologue

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"How much do you weigh?"

"Enough."

His skin was as white as snow and as cold as winter. Eyes once blue now grey and bruised. Bony shoulders holding the weight of the world while his knobby knees and dainty legs keep him standing. His reflection haunts him just as much food does. He's running on nothing but nothing is stopping him.

Connor still thinks he's beautiful.

The only thing that is keeping Troye alive at this point. The only one who hasn't turned his back on him because he was scared of what Troye was becoming. The loving boy that wakes Troye up every day with a gentle kiss and breakfast in bed. Even when Troye can't finish it, or days where he gets sick just by looking at it, he always looks him in the eye with all the love in the world and quietly whispers, "I'm proud of you." Even when some days he wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of the front door opening and a panting Troye walking in, sweat dripping from his body that's seconds away from collapsing. Even when he finds him kneeling by the toilet, fingers shoved down his throat and blood staining the porcelain. Even when the numbers on the scale keep going down instead of going up. Even when some days Troye is too weak to find the strength to kiss him back or get up from bed. Those four words are always whispered into Troye's skin like a secret.


"I'm proud of you."

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