spralmer-perfect

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No! I do not have an Ed Sheeran obsession! NO! I don't!!!.........okay fine....maybe a little!

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(Elmer's POV)

  I'm currently sitting at the table, sitting next to my lovely boyfriends. I've been trying my best to pretend to stay the happy boy I am as normal, but I think they are trying to catch on to how I haven't been eating for the past few days, and how I've been making less jokes. I've been currently picking at my food, feeling really uncomfortable with the three of them glancing at me so often. It makes me feel so small, and not a good type of small. It makes me feel like some sort of experiment.. I hate it so much. So. Fucking. Much. I just lay my arms on the table, burying my face in them. I honestly don't care if Spot, Race, and Albert see me like this anymore... I just can't take it. I can't take the feeling of seeming so small. Like a freak. Like I don't belong. Like I shouldn't be with these men. Like I should be dead.

      Tears are started to roll down my cheeks, and I start lightly shaking from the crying, which is turning into full on sobbing. Albert is the first one at my side, trying to see what's wrong. He wraps his arms around me, and I just lift my head so I can bury my face in his chest. I feel him rubbing my back, but it's not helping much. Some small whimpers and sniffles escape as I just wrap my arms around Albert, sobbing into his shirt. Spot and Race are quick to crowd around me, and I pretend that it isn't freaking me our, but Race must have noticed, because he stepped back a few feet, bringing Spot with.  I shakily whimper, not liking any of this one bit. Albert picks me up, and he carries my heavy ass self into our bedroom, setting me on the bed. Race and Spot aren't far behind.

     "El, what's wrong..? You know you can talk to us, right? We won't judge you." Race says, using the gentle tone he always uses when any of us are upset. I can't say it's not extremely calming.. 

     I just wipe my eyes, looking down, "Why don't you always say how fat I am like everyone else..? Or how I'm really not  funny? I mean, everyone else thinks so, and I would be really surprised if you guys didn't feel the same...you're just trying to preserve my emotions...! And then, at the table! You guys were pretty much staring at me..! It made me feel so weak, and small, and like I was just some sort of toy for you guys to play around with... I should just kill myself...then you wouldn't have to keep pretending like you care...you won't have to put up with me.."

     Race comes up to me, taking my hands into his own, "Elmer, you're not fat, and you're hilarious. Okay? I don't see how you could think that you're fat when you're barely 90 pounds....and your jokes lighten up all of our days! At the table tonight, we were worried for you.. you've been acting so sad, and depressed lately...we were keeping an eye on you because we wanted to see if we were just paranoid, or if you weren't okay....seems like we got our answer...But we're sincerely sorry for making you feel so uncomfortable at the table..that was none of our intentions, and we would never do that on purpose. And El, if you killed yourself, we wouldn't just get over you. We wouldn't forgive ourselves. We truly love you, and we truly care about you. I know for certain that I care about each one of you with every part of me.  We're not just putting up with you. We absolutely adore you.." He then hugs me, causing Albert and Spot to come join the hug. 

      I feel a new wave of tears start to fall down my face, but this time, it's not out of self-loathing, or just pure sadness. This time, it's out of pure love. Pure love for these three boys hugging me. I wipe my eyes, smiling a little, "I d-don't know how, but anytime I'm f-feeling sad, or anything, you three always seem to brighten up my d-day.." 

     Spot gets up, and my eyes follow where he is going. I see that he's grabbing his phone, and doing something on it. I suddenly hear the beginning of a certain song, and it just makes my heart melt. Spot goes and puts it on our speakers..

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