VVhite Tongue [VVhite Coffee II (boyxboy)]

[9] Up.

Morris loved Noah wholesomely.

Enough so that he kept his promise for four days straight.

No, Noah hadn't eaten anything since that faithful dinner, well, for quite some days before the dinner. It must've been a week now. Perhaps more.

He couldn't bring himself to eat for the life of him (literally), most probably because of Orgy. Whenever he tried to open his mouth and have a bite of anything, that sharp jaw line, those bony knees, those parallel thighs, the fingerless gloves hanging loose on spidery fingers, would flash before his eyes.

"Vinson..." Morris was bouncing his leg under the table in the cafeteria.

"Kentson..." Noah replied, tapping his fingers on the table one by one.

The taps of shoe, respectively fingers, were starting to catch the attention of people around. "You're full of shit. You can't juts go cold turkey and not eat four days in a row from the start."

Morris stopped his leg movement to raise one eyebrow instead. He didn't say anything for a long while, waiting for Noah to hear himself properly. Noah did, and sunk lower in his seat with the thought that maybe, perhaps, Morris hadn't eaten anything the past four days.

"I get dizzy whenever I stand up now." Morris nodded. "And let me tell you, it does not look professional in a conference meeting. How am I suppose to get across the fact that, as HR, I'm taking care of my employees, when I obviously can't even take care of myself?"

He didn't sound mad, which unnerved Noah. He just sounded... tired, really.

"Ugh, Kent..." he twirled his black coffee around in his cup. Morris did, too, eagerly waiting for a gulp to stop the hunger pangs. Noah understood that, so he took a sip, only for his lover to mirror it.

Noah put the cup down, played with its rim, and tilted his head to the side to look out the window. He felt his eyes squint in the light because of his photophobia but he ignored it, taking in the swaying trees, the falling leaves and the dust on the glass. It was Friday, the windows must be getting wiped on Saturdays so that they don't get dirty over the weekend.

"We should break up."

He must've been wrong about the weekend. Just then a window cleaner blocked his vision of the nice garden surrounding the cafeteria. It squeaked on its way down, leaving a bubbly trail behind.

Now that the window was cleaner, Noah tried to find Morris's reflection in the glass. He could, but the man's dyed black hair was covering his eyes. His roots were starting to grow out.

Morris eventually raised his head, searching Noah's gaze in the reflection on the glass. Noah turned his way at last.

"Chester asked why we're still together despite the crap we're going through and I couldn't give him an answer."

He did have an answer. Because they damn well loved each other. But now more than ever Noah was realizing how much of a damage he was inflicting on Morris. Other than the emotional damage of having a very broken boyfriend, now came the physical damage of starvation.

If Noah wanted what was best for his lover, a breakup was it. At least until he got his shit together. But because he couldn't promise himself nor anyone that he ever would get his shit together, he wouldn't make Morris wait for him to. He'd let him be and then see if he still felt for him by the time he was less dying. Again, if he would ever be less dying.