L I O N H E A R T | Tronnor

found

Troye has had problems eating since he was young- eleven to be exact. He was always naturally on the thinner side, but something about the way his bones protruded interested him. He remembers having a notebook full of pictures of people who's bones painfully showed, "thinspiration" as people call it. He'd always write down what he had eaten that day and measurements of his waist and how far he was from his weight goal. He was the happiest he had ever been.

Until his mom found his notebook. He remembers walking into his room one day to her sitting on his bed looking through the pages with tears in her eyes. She was absolutely heartbroken. Heartbroken that she didn't know that her baby was doing this to himself; that he was detoriating before her very own eyes. But what she didn't understand was that he was happy.

So she locked him up in a facility for people like himself who had the same issue. "Eating Disorder" they would call it. They would say that at this rate he wouldn't live to thirty and that he was slowly killing himself from the inside out. They would pin him down and force feed him until he vomited all over the floor. They would give him looks of pity, clean it up, and then try to feed him again.

Those were the worst six months of his life.

When he got out he got sneakier. When his mom would bring him food to his bedroom he would wait until she left to toss it out into a trash bag he had under his bed. The first few weeks she didn't trust him enough to eat by himself, so she would force him to have dinner downstairs at the table with his whole family. All eyes were on him, watching his every move, making sure the food actually went into his mouth and not in his pocket or napkin. One night he begged her to not make him eat down there again. She was hesitant at first, but as soon as he broke down crying and told her that it was harmful to his recovery eating in front of people, she let him eat in his room. Of course at first she sat in there and made sure he ate, and on those days he'd vomit into the trash bag under his bed until everything was gone. To hide his protruding bones he started to wear oversized sweatshirts and painted his nails often to cover the discoloration. He was smart about it.

When he moved out to California, life couldn't of had been better.

He didn't have to hide anymore. Didn't have to hide a trashbag under his bed and worry about it smelling his room. Didn't have to worry about someone finding his notebook full of his darkest secrets. Didn't have to pretend to eat. Now he just wouldn't eat at all. He'd work out for as long as he wanted to and if he fainted, no one was around to worry about him and take him to a hospital. The numbers on the scale were dropping so quickly and he was finally so proud of himself, nothing could get in the way.

That was, until Connor showed up.

They met in the nearby gym one day when Troye was doing his daily workouts. Troye was on the treadmill while Connor was lifting weights. Troye swore he kept feeling eyes on him, so when he looked up his eyes found the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. When their eyes met, Connor threw him a warm smile and unashamedly kept his eyes on him. Troye then threw him a, "what the fuck are you looking at" kind of face that made Connor laugh and go back to his workout. This went on for about an hour until Troye felt lightheaded enough to stop his workout for the day. When he stepped off of the machine dark spots danced in front of his vision and the blood rushed to his head. As his body was about to collapse, strong arms wrapped around his waist and kept him up. Those arms belonged to none other than Connor.

Troye was both happy and scared that he had found Connor that day. Happy that he finally found someone who understood him and cared so deeply about him. However, scared that this meant change in his daily routine and a stop to his, what he called, "diet."

He couldn't let anything get in the way of it.