More or less than friends

Chapter 48- lying

Reread this book, and the first chapters are so awful i literally laughed out loud.  Like HOW DID U MAKE IT THROUGH THAT BESTIES?? Probably gonna edit those later.

TWs- mention se1f h4rm, e4ting dis0rder, shouting, hospitals, swearing, mentions alcoh0l use

Clay's POV
It had been 3 days in the hospital and George had put on no weight. They were still feeding him, and whenever they checked it was working perfectly- but he was still just as underweight as before. In fact, he had dropped about a kilogram from lying completely still in bed all day. It didn't make any logical sense. Not to the doctors.
But the doctors didn't know George like I did. They couldn't walk into the hospital room and look at the brunette in a way that made him tense up and avoid eye contact.

They couldn't see the way he seemed rushed whenever they came in, his face flushed as if he had just done something he shouldn't have.

They couldn't sit beside George, run their fingers through his hair and calm him down so he wouldn't completely panic at the inevitable confrontation.
But I could.

"George."
As a response he just hummed, watching my hand as it lifted and lowered back down to stroke his hair. "What have you been doing?"
There really wasn't any difficulty telling he was lying. His body had literally frozen up as I asked the question, not changing when he mumbled a short 'nothing' as an excuse for an answer. Easy play.
"You know that you lost weight again?"
"Mhm."
"Do you know how?"
"Nope."

He looked up at me; determination hidden behind the false innocence in his eyes. I sat up slightly.
"So you've been completely still for 4 nights straight, the entire time having a steady stream of food entering your body with people coming in to make sure it's working, and you've had a perfectly comfortable amount of sleep especially compared to the amount you were getting before- but you're telling me that losing almost a kilogram of weight after 3 days of all that was completely natural?"
"Yeah, and?"
....
"George what did you do."
"Nothing."
"George, what did you do?"
"Nothing!!"
"For gods SAKE just TELL ME"
"I didn't even do anything!"
"Yes you did!"
"I literally didn't!"
"Why are you lying about this?"
"Oh my GOD just leave it Clay!"
"I will not leave it! This isn't healthy!"
"I'm fine!"
"No you're NOT!"
"I'm literally FINE just LEAVE it-"
"You're gonna end up DEAD!"
"Since when did you care??!"
"Since I was your boyfriend you idiot!!"
"Oh and a HELL OF A DIFFERENCE THAT'S made huh Clay? GOD you haven't exactly been checking recently have you?? Stop acting like I owe you shit when I don't. I don't OWE you ANYTHING!! " He was shouting, hands gripping the bedsheet. I just stared at him, stopping myself from talking for once in my life.
"You know this is the first time for months that I've been fucking honest with you when you're sober. MONTHS. Will you listen to me this time or will you fuck off and land me in hospital?? OH, never mind, I'm ALREADY FUCKING HERE!"

He deserved to finally be able to shout at me when I could process what he was saying. He was right, it had been too long since I last had a serious conversation with him and didn't run away. But I still needed to fix what was happening with the food, and that wasn't gonna happen until something George didn't like started taking place.
"George, I know I haven't done anything right for ages. I'm not gonna claim I have. I really, really messed up everything and it was awful and disgusting and I hate it. I hate that I did it, and I want to help change it. But like I said before, this is our opportunity to get that help. I'm trying to do the right thing this time because I fucked it all up. I want to fix the problems I made. And I need you to help me do that- because I owe you a solution to all the problems I made. But, I can't try to fix anything if you're lying to me."
My voice stayed at a low volume as I levelled my eyes with his. Please listen. He looked at me, not quite sure what expression to make after what I just said. But before I could influence anything he glanced down at himself- at his hands, his wrists, at his arms, at the tubes running through them- and didn't reconsider once he settled on a sure defiance. fists clenched, face calm, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "You can't help me then."

"George, seriously-"
"I am being serious. If you need me not to lie in order to help me, then you can't help me." Even while speaking he didn't look away. The determination dripping from his words burned like lava against my skin, he wasn't gonna listen to me. If I was gonna fix anything I would have to do it by force, and that thought alone was enough to make me want to scream at myself until my throat was sore.
A familiar frustration was building in my mind, thighs itching where a certain few marks stained scarlet against my skin. The small box in my pocket was calling to me louder than it had for a good while, my head racing with thoughts of the addictive pain I'd get from the sharp metal against my leg. Don't think about that right now. Think about him. How to help him.

The only times he had by himself were when I went to the bathroom or to get something from home. So there had to be something he was doing in those relatively short periods of time that meant he wasn't gaining the weight he needed. All I'd need to figure out was how to make sure he always had a person in the room with him to stop whatever was happening, from happening.  To be honest that sounded fairly easy- and probably immediately doable.

"Just..give me a second, alright?" I looked down at him, watching him nod with an unimpressed look on his (still damp) face. For a moment I stood unsurely in the middle of the room, hand hesitating over the shape in my pocket. Then I turned quickly, walking out of the room to find the person who would take a way the last of the freedom George had left.

—

George's POV

It was 5 minutes before a nurse walked into the room, smiling and small-talking as he checked the switch on the tubes spine. That's what I've started calling the weird pole thing— I get very bored very easily. He, of course, saw an open symbol and smiled sympathetically again before walking out. Everyone was oh so full of sympathy here, with a gentle smile or a hand on the shoulder. It pissed me off no end when the nurses talked to me like I was a baby and not a grown ass man, all soft voices and twinkling eyes. It wasn't even in a nice way either, they spoke to Clay perfectly normally and in fact were quite blunt with everyone else. Frankly it was cruel.

Speaking of Clay though, he still wasn't back yet. Just as I thought it, flipping the switch and sitting down, another person walked in and smiled at me. "Oh uh- the other guys already looked at the tube thingey." She nodded, walking up to the side of the bed and making me panic with her proximity to the tubes spine. "What are you doing here then? And can you actually tell me instead of talking all weird, I'm already having a bad day as it is." I wanted to be blunt for once, sick of the constant ignorance of my adultness. I was 25 for fucks sake.

She looked at me for a long moment before replying, straightening her back ever so slightly after my use of the word 'weird'. "Your lack of weight gain means you need someone with you constantly to prevent you from doing anything to the feeding process. The changeovers will be direct, so you will permanently have someone in the room with you for your entire stay." You're fucking joking me.
"Wha- why??" She stood slowly and looked at the stupid fucking tube spine, sighing before flicking the small switch back to being open. I cursed myself as she turned to me, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as I chewed on my lip hard enough to bleed.
"That's why."

—

It had been almost 20 minutes and Clay still wasn't back from what the nurse told me was the bathroom. I was starting to freak out about it, but refused to show that to the tall woman beside me in case she told anyone.
After she fixed the switch she wrote something down, then made a quiet phone call to someone before sitting down beside the bed. She had tried a couple times to start a light-hearted conversation but I stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering where Clay was and why it was taking him so fucking long. As much as I had just shouted at him, there were plenty of things he could be up to that I wouldn't support and almost all of them involved him being in some kind of danger.

God, I just wanted to go one day without worrying about where someone was or what they were up to. It had been a while since I'd had one of those.
But at least I had a hot boyfriend, right?

Single and sad...or eating disorder and hot boyfriend. Single and sad.........or eating disorder with hot boyfriend. One has two negatives, the other has one. And I have the latter, so bless you for trying.

(1655 words)

gonna edit all the chapters soon, apologies to the notifications of anyone who has this in a reading list

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