Reddie Oneshots

reddie eating disorder fic part 13

⚠️trigger warning⚠️

-

Stepping on the scale with his clothes discarded to the floor, Eddie places his hands stiffly at his side, taking a deep breath and then relaxing. He stands there for a minute, not wanting to see the numbers but knowing he has to.

He opens his eyes to the warm embrace of the beautiful numbers, 123.5.

It's a breath of fresh air. He wasn't expecting to lose this much. Maybe 4 pounds while he was fasting, not losing a pound a day. Only two more days until Eddie has been fasting for a week. He'll feel so accomplished and valid.

Riche says Eddie has an eating disorder, but according to the BMI chart that Eddie picked up from the pharmacy, he's still a normal weight. And he has to be underweight to have an eating disorder. Eddie can see the dips in his skin where it clutches onto his ribs, and he can hold them even more now when he sucks in. How stupid he was just last month to think he was skinny.

He's not even skinny now, he's a bit fat, but definitely better looking. He loves how cold his hands are against his skin, they remind him of just how important being underweight is. Tiny. Tiny. Tiny. There are some things people will never understand, and the satisfaction of going from fat to underweight is one of them.

Richie could go on about how beautiful Eddie is for days, kiss every inch of his skin, and tell him that he's perfect the way he is. But Eddie is always going to want more from his body, willing to do anything to get there.

-x-

Eddie passes his mother in the living room, stepping into his running shoes and tying them up. His mother looks at him with her normal careless expression and then her eyes swim with questions. She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it, opening it again.

"Just be careful." Is all that she says. But its enough for Eddie to start asking questions, since when does his mother worry about him. When is the last time she told me to be careful?

Eddie's sneakers hit the pavement of the sidewalk and he starts running, he focusses on objects further away because they always made him get there faster, or he stares at the sky and almost misses the turn off the sidewalk. Sweat dampens the side of his head and Eddie bites his lower lip, pushing himself to keep running.

His breath is coming out in uneven paces, and his brain echoes with the sound of his heart. Eddie stops to catch his breath, bending over on the sidewalk and placing his hands on his knees, wheezing. Blood rushes in his head and it thumps loudly. He's two miles away from home, even though he can swear he just started five minutes ago.

Eddie looks ahead of him with a foggy vision, his vision mixed and blurry in the corner of his eyes, meeting a gas station. Air conditioning. That's what he needs. He walks at a slow pace to the gas station and once inside, he realizes how barren and empty it is. The cashier looks up from a word search with worried eyes and she comes around the corner. "Oh god, are you okay?"

"Just tired," Eddie says, exasperated. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"O-Of course, it's in the back."

Eddie follows where she's pointing, head still pounding and hands shaking, when he gets inside of the bathroom he locks the door and turns to the sink, running the cold water over his face. It drips off his nose into the sink and he does it again, rubbing his hands on his sweaty face and letting the cold water touch his collarbones and run down his arms.

There's a knock on the door and Eddie jumps, turning off the sink. "Just a minute!" He yells weakly, taking a paper towel and dabbing it over his face. When he opens the door the cashier is standing there, still worried. Eddie wants to groan for her to leave him alone but she raises a water bottle in his face and he takes it without hesitation.