rising bile || kellic

maybe it was the itching in his throat every time he ate a meal. maybe it was the ever present feeling that everyone was staring at him, judging him for his weight. or maybe it was just fate, to have the small fifteen year old leaning over the rim of the white porcelain several times a day as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. whichever way, the outcome was the same. a small, frail boy killing himself in the process of trying to save himself.

||

the kellic will be platonic for the majority of this book