café » l.s ✔

i

Louis pressed his back against the cool bathroom stall, the light flickering above him—he had told Zayn to change the bulb multiple times but he never listened—and the soft sound of the water droplets falling from the tap onto the sink echoing around the empty bathroom and giving him something to concentrate on even if it was for a few seconds. He counted the droplets under his breath softly.

One, two.

His throat ached, and his head was pounding, and body shaking from the shock it just went through. His two fingers were slick with saliva, calling for him to shove them back in, even when there was nothing left to take out.

Seven, eight.

He knew they would ask. Ask how all the leftovers suddenly disappeared from where they were—under the main table in the kitchen to be thrown out later. Ask why he was in the bathroom for more than thirty minutes and why his eyes were blood shot red. All the same questions they asked everyday, questions he would only shrug at and walk away from because he couldn't tell them.

But Louis was always more willing to get asked those questions than let the calories crawl up onto his skin. He would rather die than be able to feel each and every pound start to form on his body and make his clothes just a little tighter, and make him hate himself just a little more.

Seventeen, eighteen-

"Louis! You've been in there for over an hour, mate. Some people want to use the bathroom too, ya know." He could hear someone bang on the bathroom door that he was smart enough to lock, the familiar Irish accent being easy to distinguish.

Had he really been in there for an hour? He could swear it had only been thirty minutes. Louis was never one to be able to keep track of time.

He winced quietly as Niall kept banging at the door, now being able to hear two different voices and easily guessed the second belonged to Zayn.

"Give me a minute." Louis croaked out, his voice still sore but he really hoped it wasn't too obvious as that would result in more questions that he was honestly too tired for.

Lately, 'tired' was the only word used to describe how he felt. There wasn't any other word that fit him so perfectly. He was exhausted.

Louis slowly pulled himself off the cold bathroom tiles, wincing again but not because of the banging on the door that urged him to get out but the pain that immediately struck his stomach. He should be used to it by now but every time the pain came around, he could do anything but ignore it. It was impossible, really. The pain struck him like a blow to the stomach, sending waves of discomfort throughout his body.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Jesus." He muttered, flushing the toilet as he watched the vomit swirl along with the water, then disappear. He unlocked the bathroom stall and made the lock go from red to white, indicating it was vacant. He scurried his way to the sink, looking at himself in the mirror for a brief moment before quickly looking away. He couldn't stand the sight.

There were bags under his eyes that looked like they might weigh a ton, cheeks hallowed, collar bones and shoulder blades jutting out sharply, making it almost see through on his work uniform. To anyone else, he just might be close to looking like the walking dead but in his mind, his bones dangerously protruding out wasn't enough. It was never enough, to be honest. Every goal he set, once he reached it, he would just like to lose even more, never being satisfied.

That was the scariest part of all this. Louis always thought to himself, I'll he happy when I reach this. But he never was. It was always, 'Five more' 'Ten more' 'Twenty more', and it always led him to plunge deeper and deeper into this hole he created for himself. It was toxic.

Louis washed his face, ridding it of dried out tears and soothing his hot, red eyes. Once he was done cleaning up, he dragged his body up to the door, slowly unlocking it and revealing his coworkers peering down at him curiously. He sighed and racked his mind for an excuse, but easily doing so.

"Sorry, I was feeling really sick." He opted, moving out the way to allow anyone who wanted to use the bathroom to go ahead. Quick, and easy, he thought.

Niall slumped his shoulders as he ran a hand through his blonde hair, following Louis to the kitchen.

"I'm really worried about you, Lou." He sighed, leaning on the counter and watching Louis wrap his apron around his waist and shove a notepad into his front pocket.

"Why?" The boy whispered, preparing himself for what was about to come.

"Why? Are you serious? Look at you, I could practically count your ribs, even through your clothes. You look like you haven't been sleeping for ages, and let's not even mention the eating." Niall bit his lip. "Louis, you need to start talking to us. Zayn and I, we're your friends, you know? We're here to help you because we care." Niall sighed again, nibbling on his bottom lip.

Louis just rolled his eyes because he'd been through this countless times. With Zayn, with Niall, with his mum, everyone. The same words etched into his brain, making him feel even guiltier than he already was.

He knew what he was doing to himself wasn't good for him. He knew the consequences, he just didn't care.

"There's nothing to talk about." Louis mumbled, reaching for a rag and walking out the kitchen to the café, surprised to still see people looming around since it was late.

He started wiping the dirty tables that weren't occupied, giving his hands something to do instead of playing with themselves and hanging by his sides. Niall was still hovering over which annoyed him because he would like to be left alone for once in his life and not have someone shadow him all the time like he needed to be babysat. He never felt like a friend to the blond and raven haired boy but more like someone to take care of at all times and watch over.

"I just want to help-"

"I don't need your help!" He finally broke, practically screaming to catch the attention of everyone in the café. Louis paused, looked around slowly to see his coworkers looking at him with a frown and customers looking at him oddly. He caught Zayn's eyes and could see him shake his head softly before he went back to scrubbing at the table, a little more forceful now. He didn't mean to push away one of the two people that seemed to care most about his well being but that was all he seemed to do. That was all he seemed to know how to do.

He could see the hint of hurt in Niall's eyes and softened up a little, playing with a lose thread coming from the rag he was cleaning the table with.

Niall nodded slowly, pulling out his own notepad as he saw two couples make their way into the place. He backed away from Louis, the lad watching him with sad eyes before he went up to the new customers.

Louis would have to apologize later. This wasn't really foreign between the two.

They have this talk, Louis got pissed, Niall claimed he was only trying to help, they don't talk the rest of the time, then apologize over beer. They never talk about it the next day, though, something Louis was glad of because he hated going anywhere near the topic.

It was nobody's business, anyway. He didn't get why people cared so much and tried so hard to help him.

He didn't need the help. He was just fine wasting away his days, letting his body eat at itself and feel miserable for the rest of his life.

Thoughts?