smiling critters

chapter 18 - confession

Neil woke up to PJ shaking him awake. He grumbled and nudged the pug away.

"What?" he asked, sitting up.

"Dylan's here!" he exclaimed before running out the room, allowing Dylan to come in. He kneeled in front of his friend and rubbed his cheek and made Neil purr.

"Morning Nini, sleep well?" he smiled.

"yea, one the better sleeps i've had if i'm being honest," Neil reached up and grabbed Dylan's face.

"That's good. Now, c'mon, get up! I wanna show you something!"

"I am up."

"no, like stand up."

"Ok, fine," Neil rolled his eyes and pushed himself up before dragging himself out of bed. He was in a slim tank top and tiny black shorts, it showed just how skinny he was since he always wore clothes that were a size big on him, it made Dylan realize how underfed he was.

"Sorry, my siblings forgot to feed me a lot," he seemed to shrink in embarrassment.

"No no, don't apologize, I guess it surprised me a bit. You need to gain some weight," Dylan smiled and hugged him. Neil hugged back and dropped his shoulders a little. They separated and Dylan left Neil's room so he could get dressed. Neil turned to the mirror. He noticed his chest fur was making his shirt stick out ever so slightly. He pushed it down only for it to stick out again. He felt his shoulders drop. His fur hadn't been thick enough to make his shirt stick out since he was around 9 or so, it kind of made him hopeful for his health; but did it make him hopeful enough to see himself without his base layer for more than a second for the first time in years without looking through his phone screen? When he started seeing the consequences of his siblings making him skip multiple meals over the course of his whole life along with all the other shit they did, like him obviously losing weight, but also his fur getting more dull, slowly losing its shine, and getting damaged and fraying a whole lot easier, it made his confidence dwindle to almost nothing over the years, and elliot forcing him to take popine didn't help in the slightest, in fact, it made it so much worse. He vividly remembers the day he decided to actually look at his body for the first time in years other than to ruin it, since he wasn't really being critical of his body whenever he did that. This was a few weeks after Elliot took him in. His chest was completely flat, no volume whatsoever, his stomach was indented, and his ribcage was jutting out like a zombie's and the tiny symmetric incisions all over his body didn't help that look. He remembered how mortified he looked when he looked at himself in the mirror after pulling his tank top down. He blinked and made eye contact with himself before squeezing his eyes shut and pulling off his tank top. No hiding this time. and besides, he could always turn away from the mirror. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at his bare torso. His chest was nowhere near as fluffy as it should've been, but it was better than having practically no fur on his chest, and his fur had almost completely returned to the misty purple hue that it had before. His stomach was almost the same level as his rib cage, which was now a whole lot less prominent. Sure, it was still visible, but less so. He relaxed upon seeing himself before smiling. It actually felt like he was getting better. The cuts on his body were reforming into kintsugi and he actually looked alive for once. hell, he felt alive. Usually, looking in the mirror even with his base layer on would ruin his whole day, but now he felt empowered to keep making progress on his health. He sighed before sliding his closet open and grabbing a t-shirt and using his tail to pick up his tank top and toss it in his hamper before pulling his t-shirt over his head. He took off his shorts and boxers before chucking them in his hamper and getting a new pair of both. He slid his closet door closed and looked at himself again. He smiled at his reflection before grabbing his phone and leaving his room. He saw PJ snickering to himself while Dylan made a face at the floor.