dinner || tronnor

21

troyes pov

I couldn't get his face out of my head. The face he made when he opened the door and when his dad came to stand with him. The face he made when his dad pulled the gun out and the face he made when he screamed at his father and let out his past aggresion. I couldn't stop seeing it. Even in my dreams last night, those eyes stared at me and accused me.

Last night my mom had dragged me away from the scene after more police came and some people took Connor to the hospital. I was crying and my mother was crying, too. My head was hurting so much when we got home and all I wanted to do was go see Connor but my mom told me that he would probably need his privacy and that I should get some sleep. But sleep, I did not. It was so uncomfortable knowing that I caused someone to get arrested, taken away from their family and caused Connors mom to be threatened like that. If he had pulled that trigger...

This morning, my mom announced to Sage and I that Connor would be coming home today because his condition wasn't that bad but his mother would come back the next day because of injuries that had gone unnoticed due to Connors father. She said that he only passed out from shock and that he was alright now. Sage had tried to come see me last night, probably to apologize and ask what happened, but my door was locked and I was not getting out of bed. I also didn't want to be pitied or worried over in any way. My mom probably told her everything that happened after I wouldn't. This morning she looked awful and would not make eye contact with me. I'm not mad at her in the slightest because, after all, we did save Connor from his dad. Connor shouldn't be mad at Sage or my mom, but me. I'm the one who couldn't keep my mouth shut. Even if it is better for Connor now, I don't think he wanted it to go down like that. Hopefully I can go over to his apartment today and try to talk to him about all of this and apologize for what I did.

For now I eat what I can of my cereal and go to take a shower. It is there that I realize how unfocused I have been on my eating recently. I've been so worried about Connor that I wasn't paying attention to myself. Ever sense I had come back from the hospital, I had been bloated because my body was still getting used to having food in it and it took longer to digest. I worried about that for a while because it made me look weird and chubby but my doctor said it would go down after I eat more. Or maybe he was just trying to get me to eat. As I look at myself now, standing outside the shower, naked and wet, I seem kind of normal. My hips still stick out far and my chest and rib bones are visible but less than they seemed to be before. I kind of have abs but the skinny kind that you get by default not because I work out. I'm still pale and have circles under my eyes but this time it's because I'm tired not because I lack nutrition. But I can't stop that nagging feeling in my heart that just wants my body to be a little smaller. Just a little.

I get out of the shower and walk to my window, where I can see Connors apartment building and watch until I spy him hop out of a car, most likely an Uber, with a neutral look on his face. He seemed focused on getting inside while the car drove away and past my house. I decide to get ready to go see him, hoping that will give him enough time alone.

Once I've done my hair and got dressed, forgetting that stupid concealer, I go tell my mom that I'm going. She seems concerned but lets me go saying, "Remember to give him his space, Troye." And I promise her that I will.

The walk to Connors makes me uncomfortable. All of my feelings in such a small body I feel like I could explode. I even have a few shivers because I feel so nervous.

When I'm in the elevator I bounce on the balls of my heels and clear my throat so that my voice doesn't sound gross when I talk to him. What if I say the wrong thing or what if he doesn't want to see me?

I tell myself to shake it off because even if he doesn't want to talk to me, I can still tell him I'm sorry and that I hope he knows that I was trying to do the right thing. But the thought of him rejecting me hurts physically. I can't help feeling that I was always more invested in whatever we had than he was but my thoughts make me feel petty so I try to stop thinking.