Stealth. (FtM Karl)

The boy in the reflection

Triggers:
Dysphoria

3rd person

Karl didn't have the slightest clue just how long he had been sitting there. Occasionally, throughout the day, he would get up and stretch his legs, try to distract himself maybe eat something.
But no matter where he went, he was still just stood in front of that mirror. He could always sense that feeling following him around, dragging him down, latching on; it was a sort of sinking feeling, trying to tread water but to no avail as you are forcefully pulled down by an unknown being till you reach a low enough level that looking down, light can't reach that far; it's pitch black, an ominous darkness. But looking up, you can still just about make out a glow of the surface, a surface you can never reach no matter how hard you try to swim up.
Because that feeling is still holding you down.
And Karl was starting to run out of oxygen.

Every time he left his room, he just felt more lost, he had nowhere to be, nowhere to go; his room felt like the most welcoming place.
And so he always ended up back in that room, and somehow, back in front of that mirror.

Sometimes he would just be sat in his desk chair, on his phone or on his computer, but he would always feel the urge to look over, look over and stare at his unrecognisable reflection and just study it. He hoped that maybe, somehow, if he studied it enough he could eventually recognise it as his own.

Attempt after attempt, and Karl still felt the same, he felt so weak, so useless, he felt like the opportunity to grow was right in front of him but he just couldn't get ahold of it, it would just faze right through his hands as if it were within a different yet visible reality.
Testosterone, surgery, anything that could help make his body really feel and look like his own, so close yet so far, it was an irritable feeling.

He just wanted it to go away.
Scratch the itch.
But he just couldn't do it.
And he hated how incapable and worthless it made him feel.

'What if my dad was right?' He asked himself, studying his own features, 'what if I never really will be a boy? What if I'll just always be a girl?' He questioned, remembering all those things his father would tell him, 'maybe I really am just an attention seeker. Maybe subconsciously I just wanted this because I needed something new to happen to me, something to experience...' he frowned, his eyes starting to tear up at these thoughts.

He thought about them, the things his father would say. Not often, but he did. And every time, every single time, there was always one plot hole.
Karl could never imagine himself identifying as a female again, never, he knew he would hate it, he knew it just didn't feel right to him.
Because he knew he was a boy.

So why did he just feel so lost? Why was his fathers words just coming back to haunt him now? Why can't he even look at his own reflection without criticising it's every feature?
Why can't he just accept the fact that no matter what that kiss meant, Nick would probably accept him for who he is?

The answer to these questions, he did not know.
And not knowing is what he was scared of.

He was terrified.

He just wanted to feel how he felt the day before, happy and himself. Not worrying about how he looked, completely forgetting he was trans, enjoying the moment, being with the people he felt most comfortable with.
That's all he really wanted after everything that had happened recently, it's all he needed right now.
But right now, he was completely alone in a silent home where he only listened to the sound of his own self-hate-filled thoughts.

Karl didn't have the slightest clue just how long he had been sitting there. But in this moment of time, he was sat against the wall on the opposite side of the room, opposite the mirror, his legs pulled close to him and his arms around his knees with his chin perched on top as he continued to look straight ahead at the reflective object ahead.

He cursed himself for crying, his dads voice replaying in his head, calling him weak and pathetic, all he ever did was try his best to reach his fathers standards of a man, his fathers views clouded by toxic masculinity. But Karl didn't care, he just wanted to be seen as a boy in his eyes. That's all he ever tried to do.

But now he didn't live with his father anymore, he had nobody to please but himself as all of that toxic masculinity was passed onto him through emotional abuse.
And now he was his own greatest enemy.

His phone vibrated and buzzed every now and then on the desk, but it was all just another background noise for his subconscious mind to ignore and block out as he payed his full attention to the boy opposite him.
The boy in the reflection.

Karl was so distracted by his thoughts in fact, that he didn't realise someone had come home early. Maybe it's because he just didn't want it to be true, or his thoughts really were just that loud that he didn't even hear the person walk up the stairs.
And that very same person was alerted to the life within Karl's room after hearing a small sniffle.

The boy quietly walked over to Karl's room and peaked through the partially open door to see said boy sitting on his floor with tears streaming down his face.
The boy at the door felt sympathy for Karl, a boy so pure and jolly should never have to be in such a state.

The blonde had no idea what to do except call his name, he knocked on his door gently, twice, just to alert him to his presence before speaking. "Karl?" He asked.
The brunette only turned his head down, his eyes now hidden in his arms as he pulled his legs closer. This is not a sight he ever wanted others to witness.

The blonde at the door frowned, he was never good at comforting others, but he sure as hell wasn't about to just leave Karl like this.
So he planned to try his best, if not to cheer him up then to support him.

He walked into the brunettes room and closed the door behind him, he walked over to Karl and just decided to sit next to him silently.
It was then that he realised what the boy had been staring at.
The mirror.

Tommy was never told what had happened to Karl and why he had to leave his old house, it seemed like he was the only person that didn't for some reason. But he liked Karl. Karl was nice.