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

when my sanity becomes yours

tw// mentions of vomiting , eating disorder behavior , weight

this chapter took a horrendously long time. well, not really, i guess. but i don't know how i feel about it. i properly went back to proofread it three times over (something i hadn't done for past chapters, but really should), and i still somehow don't know about it. i hope it makes sense. 

again, most of this is from personal experience with the american healthcare system, so there will be inconsistencies for how things work across the uk, but i think ed treatment is pretty much the same across the board (shit). 

i plan to go back and fix everything once all the chapters are out, which may take a few months in all honesty. we're just getting in the thick of things. let me know what you think, boost my ego or something if you want to. 

thanks, and take care of yourselves. dms are open. 

twitter: @louflymehome

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no matter how prepared louis thought he was before arriving, it all proved useless when he heard his name called by a velvety voice with a slight russian accent. suddenly, everything went ice cold; the air about the room, the blood in his veins. if he were to run away, now would be the time, he thought. he didn't really know what to expect, head filled with nothing but scheherazade echoing in his ears and that fake-vanilla scent clouding every crumb of reason.

harry nudged him encouragingly with his knee, wordlessly telling him that it was too late to flee, as if the boy could read his mind. they've come too far to turn back, it said. "do you want me to come with you, babe?" he whispered gently.

louis gave a questioning look to the source of the female voice; a fit woman with hair so blonde it was almost white. she had an angular face, giving her a foxlike appearance. "it's totally up to you whether you want your..."

"friend," louis interjected quickly, so quickly and confidently that harry's eyebrows knitted together. "my friend."

"right. it's completely up to you, whether you want your friend to come with," she said carefully, tiptoeing around the word in question.

"um," louis frowned—if harry were to be in the room, maybe he would feel a bit calmer with the help of his familiarity with the boy, but that would also mean he would have to be held accountable for everything he said. "he can accompany me," he decided when he'd realized that an awkward amount of time had passed, praying that harry wouldn't interrupt if he had to tell a few white lies about his eating habits or question his answers on the way home. pathetic, he thought, i'll be treated like a child again.

"sounds good," the woman, dr. reid, as louis recalled, said. "follow me, boys."

he and harry nodded, walking closely behind her through the halls. it turned out that the smell was even stronger past the waiting room, sharper and more relentless. louis could tell that the younger boy was bothered by it, but worked hard to pretend to not be affected. it was a larger complex than louis had expected—how were the other rooms filled if the main doctor was just one person? they finally reached her office, which was ironically small compared its surroundings.

the three of them sat down in chairs made of the same leathery plastic as those in the waiting room. the walls were filled with the most cliché quotes possible, complimented by shelves lined with pictures of children with the same platinum blond hair and square features as dr. reid. the smell hadn't strengthened or weakened from that of the hallway, however, much to both boys' dismay. everything about the room made louis feel sick.

"so, what brings you here today?" she opened her laptop, already typing away. what even was there to record when he hadn't said anything yet? he was tired of hearing that question, anyway. the first thing that dr. demarest said to him, and now dr. reid, as well? do these people have zero creativity?