USUK/UKUS One Shots

Skin and Bones (Angst)

Warnings: Anorexia, bulimia, thoughts of suicide, and depression

Summary: Alfred has been dealing with anorexia and bulimia unbeknownst to Arthur for a long time, but Arthur finally finds out. 

Word count: 2,431

Estimated read time: 13 minutes 30 seconds

Inspired by the song Skin and Bones by David J Roch

Alfred shed his clothes, dropping them to the floor of the bathroom. They fell in a crumpled pile by his feet before he stepped onto the scale. 110.19 lbs. 

He felt his heart sink. That was four more pounds than last week. 

Looking in the mirror, he traced his fingers over his own paper-thin skin and along his bulging ribcage. Lately, even breathing was a bit of a struggle. 

Tears ran down his face. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. He'd always be too fat, too ugly, or too disgusting. He hated his body, every inch of it. 

Alfred felt isolated in that bathroom. He was cut off from the world. This was his dirty little secret that no one else knew of and it made him feel disconnected, which only served to make his depression worse. 

"You'll never be good enough," he hissed to his reflection. "Arthur will never love you. He's only dating you because he feels bad for you. How could anyone ever love you?" 

His own red, puffy eyes stared back at him, looking soulless. Maybe he was at this point. 

Good thing he was a master at hiding it.

Feeling hopeless, he scooped up his bulky, loose-fitting clothes, slipping them over his frail figure. The last thing he needed was for someone to notice. They'd try to stop him, and he couldn't do that. He couldn't stop. 

He turned the knob of the door, flicking the light off behind him and grabbing his earbuds. Alfred popped them into the headphone jack and started some upbeat music before leaving for a run. 

Like always, his vision would be a bit blurry and the pain would be all-consuming, but he pressed onward through the streets. Despite ceasing eating, he still wasn't as light as he needed to be. How else was he going to lose the weight? 

After a while, though, he had to stop. His stomach was flipping, letting him know that if he didn't slow down, he'd throw up, even if there was nothing but stomach acid to expel.

Sweat beading on his brow and a side stitch stabbing his side, he walked back to the hotel. Like all his other friends, he was staying in Berlin for the week. It was a reunion of sorts, he supposed. They didn't get together in large groups for fun very often, the rare times they were all together tended to be because of some sort of tragedy. 

Alfred got into the elevator, sighing and shutting his eyes as the doors slid closed. 

"Hold up!" 

Alfred opened his eyes to see an energetic Italian with a large bag holding the doors back and jumping in. "Feliciano?

"Hey, Alfred!" 

"What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Ludwig at his house?" Alfred asked, a suggestive note in his voice. 

If Feliciano noticed, he didn't let on. "I am, but I came to bring Matthew some syrup!" 

"Syrup?" 

"Yep! He called in tears saying that the syrup here tasted as bad as Arthur's cooking. Of course, I understood how dire of a situation it must be to compare it to Arthur's cooking, so I found a bunch of different kinds of maple syrup for him to choose from!" Feliciano opened the bag he had been holding to show Alfred the contents.