Darkness (s.m a.u)

five

"B-But.." I stammered, pulling myself together for at least the moment. I reached over and took the fabric of the plaid shirt in my hands, running it through my fingers. With a long sigh, I finally got myself motivated to get out of the bed.

"Fine." 

"Great! I'm gonna go get our lunch and sign you out. Be back in a jiff!" he exclaimed, waking up Sam. He was burried into a couple blankets in his bed, and an unhappy look on his face. He groaned and sat up, leaning on his elbows.

"Where are you going? You are leaving me alone here with Jenna?!" 

"T-therapist. Hey, she's not that bad. Just don't mention Dr. Mendes and chocolate muffins in the same sentence and you'll be fine." I rolled my eyes at him, sliding on the plaid shit and bottoning it from the bottom. I didn't realize the little scar on my chest. My head boggled around, waiting for Sam to eventually comment on it. But he sadly said nothing.

In my mind, my head kept turning from liking to hating this idea. Sure, it is a great thing for Shawn to do, but I don't wanna skip a day when I could be getting to know Sam more. My eyes averted back to him, and he had his mouth switched to the side.

"Do you even know what therapists do to you? They rewire the circuit in your brain. It's almost like they are electrical engineers. Shitty engineers." he spat out, bringing his arms up to his chest. His cheeks became more of a pinkish tone. I also noticed he looked skinnier since the other day... or it was just my imagination.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"Did you eat anything today?"

He looked at me, his eyes frowning along with his mouth, and he shook his head. A sigh rolled off of his tongue, and he readjusted himself on the bed.

"M-May I ask you, how does anorexia work? I've never really seen it up close before."

I took a seat next to him on the bed, putting my hand on top of his knee like he did yesterday. He knawed at the side of his cheek, and his eyes focused ahead of him.

"You know that feeling you get when you get something bad? It starts to run away when it comes to this disease, this mindset. It makes you think about food over and over. When it comes to when I do eat something, I feel like the whole world will reject me if I do..." he explained, going back to knawing at his cheek. Something was bothering him in that moment, due to the fact that he said he hadn't eaten.

"You know, I feel that too. Anxiety can hurt you in a lot of ways. Mentally and physically." my voice cuts off with the sound of Shawn rolling into the room, a light "hmm" radiating from him. I turn back to Sam, and his eyes turn darker, waiting for my depature for a few hours.

"Please eat something today. Okay?" I ask, still trying to stay serious with him. He nods silently, sitting more upright and going crashing right into a hug. A sigh still evident in his voice.

"Ill try."

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Trees rolled past my window like a green blob of paint, splashing my imagination with daydreams as we rode to the therapist. Shawn sat to me, humming along to a song on the radio I've never quite heard before. He moved back and fourth to the song, his hair flipping as he moved. Shades blocked the view, of his welcoming hazelnut brown eyes.

Suddenly, Shawn turned off the radio with a click, bringing fear into my veins of what he would say next. My attention got drawn from my daydream, returning fully on him. I watched as he bit his lip, turning into another random road.