I Hate You (Larry Stylinson) ✅

27. failure

Louis' POV 

Trigger: Eating disorder behaviors 

April 26

"Hey, ready for breakfast?" Harry asks. We have a big meeting today and I know I have to eat but I can't bring myself to. 

"Mmm, maybe later," I say with a shrug. Harry gives me a curious look but shrugs and sets the table anyways. 

"Okay, well get dressed and see how you feel? Do you want your gummy?" Harry asks. 

Fuck. The fucking gummies. The fucking weed gummies. I'm so sick of those. Without answering, I shake my head and go to my room to grab some clothes. 

After contemplating for a bit, I decide upon a pair of black slacks and a blue button down. I quickly pull on the shirt, which is a bit baggy, and then slide on the pants. 

Holy shit. No. No, no, no.

They're too tight. 

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize how stupid I've been. Everyone tells me "You're not fat, you're healthy, you look so much better." I should never have believed that garbage. I am so fat - so fucking fat. Only getting fatter by the day. 

I rip the pants off - couldn't even button those things- and grab another pair that are stretchier. That's what this comes down to. Stretchy pants. That's how gross I am.

Harry must have noticed that I was taking a long time changing because he knocks on the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just washing my face," I lie. Once I get the pants up, I head into the kitchen to grab my laptop.

Harry has laid out my breakfast. Eggs and toast, with butter. Ugh. Next to the food is a glass of orange juice, and the gummy.

I resist the urge to take all of it and throw it off the table, smashing it into a million pieces against the ground. How the fuck did I let myself get this big? I feel like vomiting.

"I know you said you didn't wanna eat, but in case you changed your mind... otherwise we'll just make a sandwich of it and wrap it in tin foil so you can have it later," Harry suggests. He's smiling, his big eyes all green and sparkly.

But I'm not. I'm fuming. 

"I fucking told you I didn't want to eat now," I snap, shoving my laptop into my bag. 

"I know but -- " Harry interjects. 

"And that I didn't want the gummy!" I say. My voice raises an octave and I curl my hands into fists.

"Okay, I know. I'm sorry," Harry says softly.

But it's too late. I run towards the table, dumping all of it into the garbage disposal. The food, the juice, the gummy.

"I don't want it! I don't fucking want it!" I scream.

"Louis, it's okay," Harry says, putting a hand on my back.

I whirl around, locking eyes with him. "Don't. Touch. Me."

"Okay," Harry says, stepping back. "W-what's wrong? Are you okay?"

I shake my head, wiping away tears. "I'm so fucking disgusting."

"No you're not," Harry says. He's tearing too a little.

"My fucking pants don't fit, Harold! That's how fat I've gotten," I growl. It feels so awful to even say it out loud. But that's the truth - that's what I've become.

"What? Lou, your clothes are so small from when you were ill, you just need new ones, that's all," Harry says calmly. 

I shake my head. "No, fucking no, Harry. I know you're all lying. I should just weigh myself. Then I'll know the truth."