V A C A N T ; Justlex

not your pretty boy, girl, or anything

TW !!!!!

LOT OF ED THOUGHTS AND SOME BEHAVIORS IN THIS CHAPTER!
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Later in the night Justin had fallen asleep on the air mattress Alex had slid out from underneath his own bed. As for the blond, he was still staring at the ceiling. He busied his almost thoughtless brain by counting the tiles. He was on number 58. It seemed to be expanding, as infinite as the universe.

After hours of this, he finally gave up. He kept just missing specifically one tile, ruining his count. The younger boy's head lolled to the side, seeing it was now 3:08 a.m. His body unconsciously tensed and relaxed, almost unnoticeable to anyone else. It had become another habit. He wasn't going to sleep, he knew that and knew it was because of his multiple bad habits but he felt it was worth it in the end.

Would it really be worth it though?

Alex snorted when the thought drifted into his head, immediately dismissing it. No way he was stopping, not anytime soon. He would remain empty, no matter how bad it hurt him. In fact, he decided to prove to himself that he was going to stay on track. In his own way.

Long, pale, bruised legs were flung over the edge of the bed, carefully ignoring the warm body on the floor. The only warm thing in this house. The blond stood up quickly, too quickly, and had to steady himself a bit.... Or a lot. His eyes were already focused within the dark, easily finding the closed door of his bathroom. He drifted silently in the cold air, closing the distance in under a minute. Now that he had decided, he was going through with it.

Alex didn't even bother with the light switch, shutting the door silently behind him. A breath escaped that not even his own body had acknowledged he was holding. For a while he just stood and stared himself in his dull blue eyes, reflected in the mirror. His.. body. His sweater was discarded within seconds, and the scrutinization began. He felt okay about his hair, his facial structure, but then the issues began. Facial hair.

His bushy eyebrows, shaped quite well, were too stereotypically masculine for him. His dark stubble, coming in just barely, felt so wrong. He didn't find himself to feel as though he should be a girl, but not necessarily a boy? The bleach blond had a pretty good idea of gender terms, he just didn't remember all of them. He felt as though he fell on the more male end of the spectrum, mostly boyish but fluid, but what was that called? The gears inside his head briefly turned, but the rest of his body called to be checked.

Shuddering breaths of sharp ice entered his lungs as he turned around, swinging his head over his shoulder and he pressed his upper body forward. He counted 7 vertebrae. One month ago it was 6. There was still fat logging him down on his torso area. He wasn't fat per say, didn't view it that way, but he felt he COULD do better. He knew he could and he really didn't want to stop. He wasn't fucking thin enough. Not yet.

Exhaling even colder air, he turned around once again. He had on sweatpants and he dare not take those off unless he wanted to start screaming. Instead he settled for just yanking them up, as tight to his thighs as he could get. The gap justified that maybe what he was doing was good, it was working after all. He felt really good for a split second. Like he was... good enough. His smile in the mirror, resulting from his giddiness, was what destroyed the feeling. He wasn't actually good enough. His eyes watered and he limply slid down to the white tiled floor.

He wanted to rip his hair out, do something, he couldn't take the negative energy practically making him explode from inside out. His mind flickered to why he came in here in the first place and his emotions quickly were sucked into some unfindable part of himself, some tangle of misery in his head. He couldn't think of a number to do at first.

Situps.

He did them until sweat pooled in his bellybutton, he could barely breathe, and his shoulders ached. Bruises were beginning to appear on his back like someone had injected red poison into his skin. When he stood up he staggered, knowing he needed water but willingly walking away from the sink. His shirt took a considerable amount of time to get on, he was just so fucking confused and the fog of grey and blue spots surrounding him was becoming too much to comprehend.

His ears rang with strange noises, he couldn't hear anything recognizable. He felt his limbs give out before they hit the ground and started shaking. He didn't know what was going on, he was stuck in a fucking endless hole, swirling around him and it just felt indescribable, and in the moment he had no idea what was happening. He didn't know afterwards either.

Blue eyes shot open, seeing the ceiling above himself. His hands and legs were still moving uncontrollably when he came to, hyperventilating. One deep gasp of air he was just standing in was all it took to realize what had happened and he pulled himself off the ground, as quickly as possible. If anyone would've seen him, everything would be fucking ruined. His head hurt, probably hit on his way down, but nothing like the pain his heavy bones caused.

He opened the bathroom door, hanging to it with an excuse on hand in case his fall had awoken Justin. (Un)fortunately, the warm presence in his bedroom hadn't stirred. He looked down, carefully walking himself to his bed and silently slipping in. The emotions and thoughts that had been suppressed ever so carefully in the vines of his mind began to bloom.

If I fell with no one around, would it even make a sound?

I need to restrict more. But.. how do I do that with Justin around??

Maybe he'll leave soon, but I don't think I really want him to...

Alex just really didn't know anymore.

He didn't know.