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Chapter 8- always

(REPOSTED)

A/N: Ok but 68 views. WHAT????!?!?!?? Holy honk dude, why. My writing has always been something I'm very insecure about and suddenly people i don't even know are reading it. I love you so much, please if you enjoy this book vote!

 TWS: Eating disorder, alcohol, getting drunk, crying 

George's POV

Clay tried his best to help me eat regularly throughout the day, but I really couldn't do it. Every time something entered my mouth, I felt sick and started shaking my head. After over an hour, I managed to have a quarter of a bag of crisps before it got too much for me and I collapsed in Clay's arms. 

We were obviously alone while doing this, sat in my room surrounded by opened packages filled with food while the other two went out to get drinks. He held me as I cried and repeatedly apologised, again into my hands, for being so unable to do such an ordinary activity. 

I'm so stupid. How can a human being literally be this useless.

Just the fact and feeling that he cared, that someone cared again, made me feel so vulnerable and happy at the same time. 

It means he could either make everything right again or destroy what I have left. I just hope he's not like everyone else. You know, the ones that completely turned their backs on me over something that wasn't my fault. The ones that-

These thoughts were interrupted, as per usual, by Clay's all-too-gentle voice whispering in my ear.

"Hey, George? It's ok. You're gonna be ok. I'll help you through this. I'm here. I'll always be here."

I'll always be here. God, that's a promise.

I turned my head to look at him, knowing that my stupid eyes were glossy with stupid tears again. 

"Always?" I asked, my voice sounding way too vulnerable in the moment. He hugged me against his chest and rubbed circles on my back, letting me relax in his soft arms and making me feel emotionally and physically warm.

"Yeah. Always."

***********(it's name is Jeremy btw)

Clay's POV

Nick and Karl had brought back drinks, and were sitting on top of one another in the armchair. They had both had about 3 beers, and kept giggling and randomly blushing. I had made sure I drank none, but George was on his second, muttering something about how he 'didn't like the feelings'. This scared me. I didn't want him to do physical damage to himself because of mental health- I knew better than anyone that drinking wasn't the way to fix it. 

We were sat on the sofa, his fluffy brown head resting on my shoulder as he took large gulps of alcohol, at first wincing with all of them but eventually taking long, continuous sips and swallowing without any reaction. Sapnap and Karl had both fallen asleep.

I took it away when he had almost finished his fourth beer, giggling and sitting right against me. 

"Clayyyyyyy give it backkkk" He slurred his words, and he tried climbing up my body to get to the bottle. He ended up falling onto my chest, his smaller frame feeling so vulnerable against mine. I placed his drink on the coffee table and stood up, looking down at a dazed and flushed face. He giggled again and choked on a hiccup, scaring me that he would throw up the only food he'd eaten. 

"George, you need sleep." I tried to make my voice firm, but I was so scared at this point that it just shook. 

"Don't be sillyyyy. Lets have fun." His face suddenly lit up and I fiddled with the end of my nail unsurely, having no idea what he meant.