we'll live to tell the tale (l.s.)

you are the force that crushes my chest

tw// mentions of eating disorders and eating disorder behavior

i don't know how much i like this chapter, honestly. it's very dialogue-heavy but i feel like it's just a necessary bridge between two parts. i have to remind myself that not every chapter has to be as profound as the last. 

also i am more interesting on ao3 ngl. chapter summaries i have a fun time doing. i try to incorporate them here on wattpad as the first few sentences but it doesn't feel the same. though i know that if it were a novel it wouldn't work like that. but it's not a novel so let me have my fun :)

enjoy, and stay safe. x

-

calling the whole situation mortifying would be an understatement.

while it was true that harry's seen him at his worst even before this instance, it wasn't something he could imagine himself ever getting used to allowing the boy to witness.

vomit wasn't foreign to louis; there were more nights than he could count that he spent bent over into his cold, unforgiving toilet at home, in attempt to pry out the remainder of whatever lied inside of him. he wished that he could reach his entire fist down his throat and claw out his organs one by one, until he was reduced to nothing.

it was what had caused the seizure in the first place, the doctors told him. some sort of electrolyte imbalance, mixed badly with fatigue and malnutrition. but he hadn't binged and purged frequently enough for it to be diagnosed as bulimia, so he was just an anorexic that was a little more dysfunctional than others. he hated that. the diagnosis itself was beautiful, though; the name of the illness slipping off the tongue so easily. a trophy for his accomplishments.

the nurses dressed him again after they'd disinfected the room and changed the sheets. it was a wonder, he thought, how unbothered they looked while doing so, accustomed to dealing with all kinds of bodily fluid. by the time he was finally guided back to bed, another tray was brought into his room with a clear bag of crackers. incredible, how often normal people actually ate. he'd forgotten how abnormal his diet had been compared to what was recommended, because it was all he knew.

louis played with the plastic bag, deep in thought. what if harry had been so revolted by him that he's not planning on coming back? what if they'd decided that he was hopeless? or even worse, what if they found out he was faking it all, and had nothing wrong with him in the first place?

there were days louis would wonder what exactly it was that stopped him from eating. he wanted to eat-- so, so badly, his body was screaming for food, but he could never pull it off. he thought that, if gods really did exist, they were telling him that this is what he deserved. which he knew, it just hurt coming from someone else.

the door slid open once again, and for a second louis was scared that the nurse had returned to bring him yet more food, despite the fact that he hadn't touched the crackers. they were animal crackers, shaped vaguely like blobs with what were supposed to be legs, made for children. and it really did make louis feel like a child.

but harry was here again, and he didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. disappointed that he would have to continue feigning energy, despite having none, disappointed that harry had stayed even though he didn't deserve it, disappointed that he would have to face this beautiful boy again despite being such a vile creature.

"lou..." harry breathed, stepping closer, reaching his hand out to stroke louis' hair, "how are you feeling?"

"just dandy, thanks for asking," louis attempted to sound brusque, but instead could not fight this soft smile on his face that made harry want to crush him in an embrace.