Is Not Saving Someone The Same As Killing Them? || Joshler (Bromance)

-.-. .... .- .--. - . .-. ..--- (2)

"Tyler, eat something," Josh pleaded, "Just one thing."

Tyler ignored Josh and just looked out the window on the other side of the cafeteria. He didn't feel like eating at all. He didn't care. Not about school, or talking, or sleeping, or waking up every morning. But... he did care about Josh.

"Tyler, please."

"There's no point."

"You have to eat to live."

He didn't care. He didn't care at all. But... he did care about Josh. He also knew he couldn't tell Josh that he didn't care about living. He couldn't hurt Josh like that.

Tyler glanced back at his styrofoam tray. There was a bruised red apple, a crummy piece of toast--slightly burnt--and a small scoop of the unkind version of lumpy mashed potatoes. There was also an apple juice and a chocolate milk. The sight of it all made Tyler want to vomit. But he cared about Josh. So he picked up the stale toast and bit into it. He didn't look at Josh. The toast tasted like nothing. Like water perhaps. It had a flavor but at the same time it didn't. Tyler hated the feeling. He wanted to cry. He wanted to spit it out. He kind of wanted to make a scene. But he continued to chew and swallow the whole piece of toast. It felt like sandpaper and his mouth felt like a desert. He never wanted to put another piece of food past his lips again. It had nothing to do with hating himself or needing to "control" something. It was that fucking taste. But he cared about Josh and Josh was smiling now, thanking him.

"See, it wasn't so bad," Josh said with a small smile spread across his lips.

"Yeah," Tyler lied.

Josh's class left the cafeteria before Tyler's did, just a few minutes, but there was enough time for Tyler to ditch his tray in the garbage and escape to the restrooms where he threw up the blasted toast. He sat on the floor and cried right after. God, those floors were disgusting. You know how many guys probably pissed on it? Oh well. For just a moment, just a split second, Tyler hated Josh. But he knew Josh was just trying to help. So he sat on those filthy bathroom floors, staring at his black Vans with vision blurred by tears and he wished he was dead all the way through until the next class period. No one needed Trigonometry anyways. Er, well, Tyler didn't.