What are we? - A Septiplier Story

3. Friends with Benefits

He was always by my side but I still admired him from afar. I wish I could kiss his lips all the time and hold his hand when I was nervous, but all I could do was sit there and look pretty. Nobody knew that in secret he would hold me as if I was the most fragile thing, nobody knew that he made me feel special. But I wasn't special, not really. I was just there for him. I didn't know why I was here. Maybe I wanted more from this, more from him.

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I walked down the hall of my school, my head everywhere but here. My wrists itched as well as my sides, my breathing rigid as I tried to make it to class, my eyes glissening too much as I jogged to the bathroom quickly and into one the stalls. My body shook, my heart racing as well as skipping some beats. I couldn't go to class, not while he was there. My thoughts were collapsing me as I sat down with my hand over my mouth, trying not to sob.

You're just there to be his toy, there's nothing going to happen between you two.

Fuck off, my head feeling like it was splitting as I uncounciously fought with myself. Heart jumping, I heard a toilet flush and one of the stalls opening, the faucet turning on as I lifted my feet up to my knees so I wouldn't be seen.

You're so pathetic, why do you even try.

Why are you even here?

Because you're a weakass crazy bitch who talks to himself, that's why.

I closed my eyes as I heard myself whimper after the faucet stopped. I could hear light breathing, but no footsteps.

I hope you get caught and whoever it is laughs at you.

Shut the fuck up.

I heard footsteps slowly starting before they headed away from me, the door opening and closing as I quickly looked under the stall as well as the others, finally removing my hand and started to hyperventilate.

"I can't do this," I whispered, staring up at the ceiling as I leaned my head against the wall.

It was bad enough that I had anxiety about everything already, but to have anxiety over your best friend was something you'd never expect. He didn't even know that I had any mental illnesses, I was still too afraid to tell him even though we've been friends for well over 6 months. We didn't start "messing around" until about a month ago, but it still messed with my head. Anything does basically.

"You need to get to class," I said to nobody but me. I stood up, opening the stall and looking forward at myself in the mirror, slowly walking over to it. I looked at my eyes first, which I usually do.

My eyes were faded, almost dark around them as my cheeks seemed very hollow and thin. I looked at my blue hoodie which was twice as big as I was. There was a reason I wore big clothes though.

Slowly lifting my hoodie up, I looked at my thin reflection, my ribs noticable and my stomach nonexisitant. Little scratches and cuts covered my hips, my breath caught in my throat as I felt tears falling down my cheeks again.

"You look horrible, as usual," I chuckled before dropping my hoodie back down and putting my head in my hands, feeling like my heart was being sucked into a black hole, "I can't do this."

I stayed in the bathroom for the whole hour, hiding in one of the stalls as I played on my phone. A few minutes before the bell rung, my phone vibrated.

Markimoo: hey, where r u? did u leave?

I sighed as I contemplated swiping the notification away before deciding to answer.