band one-shots

guilty || gawsten

last time i wrote smth really sad y'all yelled at me for making u cry so here's ur warning: this is sad lol

tw for eating disorders and just really sad shit

ship: geoff wigington x awsten knight

~

Awsten feels guilty when he eats. He doesn't even know why.

All he knows is that sometimes the sight of food makes him feel a little sick to his stomach. And sometimes he likes to stick a finger in the back of his throat, coughing and gagging until there's nothing left for his stomach to dissolve.

But it's only sometimes, so really, he doesn't have that big of a problem. It fades in and out. Sometimes he can go an entire week without feeling it, and he can participate in somewhat normal eating habits.

Then it'll come rushing back and he's kneeling on the floor, fingers tracing an almost discernible rib-cage. If only he could be skin and bones, nothing else. It's a guilty pleasure of his, indulging in this far away fantasy that he can never achieve, because he never starves long enough to reach it.

At most, he can only lose five pounds before Geoff notices and suddenly he's being watched, and he has to prove he doesn't have a problem. So he swallows meals laden with calories and plasters a smile on his face and he's almost doing okay before the cycle repeats itself again.

Awsten's fucking tired of sitting on the bathroom floor with fingers wet from saliva and stomach acid. He's not losing weight, he's merely tipping back and forth. If he wants to lose weight, he has to stay consistent. Which means he has to get better at lying to Geoff.

And he does. He perfects his response to Geoff's endless questions. He smiles and nods during meals with him, and as soon as the brunette boy turns away, Awsten is throwing his food away. When Geoff turns back, there's no evidence of the fragile boy fading away in front of him. Just an empty smile.

Awsten loses six pounds and he feels absolutely fucking euphoric.

He can't stop staring at his body, and wondering why he isn't skinny yet. Each time he passes a mirror in the house and no one's around, he lifts his shirt. His stomach still isn't flat. His thighs are still huge. Maybe it's not working.

But he knows if he stops then it'll ruin everything. So he continues to skip breakfast and drink ice water until the cold forms a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It's freezing and dark and sometimes he drowns himself in it so that he can remember why he's doing this. But trapping himself inside a dangerous mindset doesn't give him any clarity at all. In fact, it only blurs the lines between him and this sickness that resides in the crevices of his mind.

It is a sickness, he knows it deep down. But he finds it difficult to believe, because he feels so much better. Of course, he also feels worse, the hunger and exhaustion draining him. But he focuses on his shrinking body, because nothing can taint the pure euphoria it gives him.

He's not skinny yet. Nowhere near it. But he's certainly on his way and every refused meal feels like a minuscule victory for the demon inside of him.

Until Geoff tries to sit him down and talk to him.

"Dude, you have to fucking eat. You're losing a lot of weight." Geoff's eyes reflect concern, but Awsten discards away the comments.

"I'm fine. Don't I look fine?" Awsten stares into his boyfriend's eyes, pleading that he drop the subject. Everything's fine. He's eating. Just nowhere near as much as he was before.

Geoff is unfortunately a sucker for Awsten's warm irises but he persists. "You could literally die."

"I'm not dying. I'll let you know if I am though." Awsten cracks a broken smile and he gets up from the couch. The conversation is over. And Geoff has achieved nothing.

But Awsten should know if he's dying, right? Like he should at least have an inkling of an idea that 'hey my organs aren't working quite so well, my body is shutting down'. And he doesn't feel any of that.

He can feel the cold that follows him everywhere he goes and the exhaustion that lingers long after waking up. He can feel his body spinning like the world's brightest disco ball, only it isn't spinning at all, he's just dizzy and sick. He can feel his weight dropping. He can feel his bones, including his rib-cage, and he spends hours admiring the brittle bones poking out.

But he doesn't feel death until it's too late.

He doesn't feel it until his fingertips have turned an icy blue that reminds him of ice cream. He hasn't tasted that in months. His heart beat slows, and blood stills. One minute he's breathing, wondering why Geoff won't look at him anymore, because he's beautiful now. He's the most perfect he's ever been in his life.

The next minute he can't breathe.

The next minute he doesn't.

Blue skin that is cool to the touch, brittle hair from nutrient deficiencies. Bony fingers, outstretched for something unknown. Empty eyes, hungry in more ways than one.

After all that work to be beautiful, he's become pretty fucking ugly.

But when Geoff finds him, he still holds him, pressing kisses to a dead body that can't feel anymore. Blackness fills his chest and he squeezes an unresponsive hand, wishing Awsten could squeeze back. Because even if Awsten has become ugly he's still the same boy Geoff fell in love with, emaciated body or not.

There's one bright side to everything; Awsten can't feel guilty anymore.

But now Geoff can.

~

hi my name's lia and i like projecting my unhealthy coping mechanisms onto people who don't know i exist 🤠✌