larry stylinson oneshots

i already ate

CONTENT WARNING: THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SCENES WITH EATING DISORDERS AND STARVING. IT ALSO HAS SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SELF DEPRECIATING SCENES AND PEOPLE DO MENTION IT THROUGHOUT THE CHAPTER. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU GET TRIGGERED BY THIS KIND OF CONTENT OR DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE READING IT. 

Louis' pov: 

Fat

Disgusting 

Pig

Huge 

Unlovable 

Chubby

I understood where these people were coming from. I was enormous. My stomach protruded over the waistband of my boxers and showed when I wore tight shirts. All the other boys were fit, with defined abs, strong thighs, and huge biceps. I was short, my thighs were huge and wobbled when I walked, and my arms had fat all around the bone. I stood out like a sore thumb when I stood next to them in photos. 

Yeah, like any normal singer, I got hate. But unlike them, I read it every day, and I started believing it too. I could see why they were saying those things. They were simply true.

'Why are you even in the band?' The boys probably felt sorry for me and didn't have the heart to kick me out. 

'Why don't you leave the band already?' Yeah, I know I should.

'Gosh, you're so fat. No wonder you never have any energy on stage?' I honestly don't know, I really should be able to keep up with the boys. 

'You can't even bloody sing and you're so fucking fat. Just kill yourself already' You know what, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. 

TWO MONTHS LATER

Harry's pov:

Over the last couple of weeks, I had noticed a change in Louis. He hardly ever smiled, and barely had any energy anymore. He used to be full of it! He only wore long shirts or jumpers, even on hot days when I would only walk around in boxers. He never sat on my lap anymore, and never leant on me or put any ounce of his weight on me, which was barely anything. I also can't remember the last time we had a meal together. He always says he ate with one of the other boys, or he got takeaway on the drive home from the studio. I hadn't seen him in any tight shirts or skinny jeans in a while, but anyone could tell that he had lost at least 30 pounds.

I knew all the tell-tale signs, but I just couldn't bring myself to believe it. I decided I was going to stay with him all day, and then cook dinner for the two of us. That way I could be sure if there was a problem. 

I pulled myself up from the couch and wondered over to our bedroom to wake Boo up. I was surprised to see his spot in the bed bare, but sighed in relief when I saw the light coming from our ensuite bathroom. 

I was stunned at the least to see him standing on the scales, tears dripping slowly down his cheeks. Unfortunately, he still had his shirt on, so I couldn't see what he really looked like. I quietly walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Or what was left of his waist. I nearly gasped out loud when I felt his ribs protruding out of his skin. He jumped and span around, detaching himself from my grip. 

"Hey, hey baby what's wrong?" I asked, stepping forwards to wipe his tears off his porcelain face. 

"I-I-I um stubbed my toe on the edge of the bath?" he said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself that's what was really happening. 

"Oh honey," I cooed, not believing a word he just said. I held my arms out for him and he tentatively stepped into my grip, letting me hold him just like we used to. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away and stared at something on floor behind me. The scales.