A Mutual Obsession [2p England x Anorexic/Bulimic! reader]

1.

A/N: Hey lovely, just a quick content warning, are you comfortable with reading about eating disorders, gore, and slight sexual content?

[NO] that's okay, there's hundreds of stories on Wattpad without those themes which I recommend if you would be more comfortable ❤️

[YES] that's fantastic! I hope you enjoy my story! ❤️

A Mutual Obsession
2p!England x Anorexic/Bulimic! Reader

And I won't lie - I feel so much better.
So much better.

My heart pounds heavy in my ears, thumping against the walls of my brain. Awaking me from what seems like a dream.

It's okay to make mistakes, as long as you try to fix them after.

A deep sigh is cut off by a lurching animal inside my stomach, begging to be let loose.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I don't feel like crying.
Droplets cling to my eyelashes and blur the epileptic white light.

I push myself from the cold hard floor and flush my altar, echoes chase me as I saunter to the sink.

The girl who stares back at me isn't even the same person, or at least not the person I once was.

Her eyes are dull, ringed a bruised purple.
Her uneven face is stained with dry tears.
Her fragmented hair is disheveled.

She's - I'm not a pretty sight.
How could anyone love me like this?

I wash off the sheath of saliva that stretches from finger to finger. I brush my teeth.

I step slowly onto the scale.

The number that rings up just destroys me. What I thought was progress is completely gone.

I'm...So pathetic.
Even after skipping meals, eating as little as I can, and fixing my mistakes, I still only weigh that much!

You fat bitch, stupid, stupid, stupid! What's wrong with you? Can you not just do this one simple thing? How hard must you make it?

Do you want this?
I'm just not trying hard enough.
I'm not committed enough.
I can fix that, and I can try harder.

I sigh and try to clear my head.

I could be so much better.
Everything would be so much fucking better.

Everyday is a new start.

I cautiously unlock the bathroom.

It scares me to think someone may have heard.
If I wanted someone to find out it would never be my family.

I make my way through the dark fairytale-blue hallway and into my room.

It's completely dark except from the moonlight streaming through the window, on my window sill stands a plethora of picture frames of varying colours, designs, and sizes. In the corner sits a shoebox.

A shoebox. If anyone asked about what's in it I'd just say "Oh you know just random stuff" and brush it off, and if they were that curious and opened it all they'd see would be just that. Stuff.

But to me it means more than that.

Pens I'd 'forgotten' to return for him, a single stray button from him, sweet wrappers I'd 'throw away' for him, and more that to other people they would understandably mistake for rubbish. Nothing that he'd miss.

Picture frames. Snapshots of happiness are captured perfectly in each and every one.
Moments that perhaps no one had bothered to think of twice.
My favourite ones are the pictures where he's smiling directly at the camera - and I can pretend, if just for a second, that it's meant only for me.

I've replayed every moment we've had together a thousand times.

Oliver Kirkland

The very thought or mention of his name excites me.

We've been friends for a while now, but that's precisely the problem.
I don't want to be just friends.