Undercover (Larry Stylinson)

26. turn these fucking thoughts off

When Louis woke up in the morning, Harry was gone. He looked around the room and quickly located a note on his bedside table that read: "had to take Niall to his appointment. Let's hang tonight. -H"

Rubbing his eyes, Louis tossed the note on the ground and headed downstairs. As he walked past the kitchen, he noticed something peculiar on the table. It was a plate, covered, and adorned with another note.

"Made you an egg white and spinach omelette," the note read. "Super healthy. Please try some! -H"

Louis took the top off the plate and examined the omelette. It did look healthy. 300 calories more or less. That wasn't too bad. But he looked down at his stomach, which was still a bit bloated from yesterday's affairs. Did he really need more food?

While he thought about it, he headed to the bathroom for a quick shower to clear his mind. It was Saturday, so there wasn't a rush to get to work like there was most mornings. Louis took his time washing his body, slowly lathering up each crevice with warm vanilla soap.

Getting intimate with his body always made him a bit uncomfortable, which is why he avoided looking in the bathroom mirror and used the loofah rather than his hand to do the washing. He hated touching his body. He hated feeling the way his hips curved, his thick thighs brushed together, his sides formed little rolls when he bent a certain way.

Most days, He felt repulsive, especially after a binge. But once In a blue moon, after a successful week of starvation, he would gain a spurt of confidence. He would look at his body, admiring the changes. He would smile for once.

That was what happened the night he spent at Harry's on the air mattress. To Harry, it must have seemed just like any other night, but for Louis, it was the first time in a while he had ever felt even remotely secure without a shirt on.

Some things were better off as secrets, though. And as he rinsed off the last residual drops of water, Louis wondered if it was better the way things used to be, when Harry was in the dark about his lifestyle, and not fully aware of his shameful behaviors.

Sighing, Louis hopped out of the shower and slipped on his robe, which was a powder blue color, just like his room. He wiped the condensation off the window and began to trim his beard a little, washing the hairs neatly down the sink. Getting rid of the evidence. It wasn't all too different than what he did with his meals, was it? One flush was usually all it took for the calories to disappear. And no one ever had to know.

But now someone did know. Well, two people. His best friend and longtime confidant Liam. But that was never an issue. At least not until their fight the other night...

Regardless, Louis could handle Liam knowing. He wasn't thrilled about it, but it didn't give him too much anxiety. Harry knowing, on the other hand, was making his hands shake as his shaved, nearly causing him to drop the razor into the sink with a clammer.

Perhaps in the moment it was a good idea to tell Harry his secret. But now, in retrospect, it seemed so very very wrong. He wasn't ever going to look at him the same way again was he? He would think he was a freak for ever. It would never work out.

As Louis headed to the bedroom, he stepped on the scale, removing his towel to reveal his hideous body. When he looked down, he could see the curve of his stomach. A sight that he loathed on more levels than one.

The numbers on the metal device, as always, weren't low enough. In fact, he had gained a pound from the binge. His decision was made for him, then. No omelette. Just water.

Sulking, Louis took out the loosest fitting shirt he could find and coupled it with baggy pants. He hated the way he looked so much. He could hardly understand how Harry was able to hook up with him yesterday, let alone enjoy it.