𝐬.𝐩. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

words we never said

cordelia

tw: this contains themes of anorexia so please be careful.
note: i actually really hate how this turned out but it's fineeeee.

-

Cordelia tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you lay beside her. Your eyes were closed, but she could feel the pain radiating from your soul. Everything you felt began to pour into Cordelia.

Tonight seemed particularly worse. She wasn't with you very much today, so she couldn't monitor you during the daylight - but now she was concerned.

Your face twitched in your sleep. It was evident enough that you were struggling. Cordelia sighed, frustrated that she couldn't do much to help. On most nights she would take your hand in hers and pull you closer, whispering soothing words in your ear to get you to relax - but she wasn't sure if she could do that now. You began to move around sporadically before your body jolted you awake.

Cordelia grabbed onto your arm, pulling you into her chest as you sobbed. Her hands motioned up and down your back, worriedly feeling each bone that protruded beneath your skin. It seemed you'd lost more weight. Cordelia wasn't sure how that was even possible given that she tried her best to make sure you ate, spoon feeding you if she had to.

"I hate it, Delia. I hate it so much." You heaved aloud. "It's everywhere. I can't escape it, it's not even worth it anymore!"

She knew all about your eating disorder, from when it started, to why, and to now. She knew how it affected you, both mentally and physically, day and night, and whether or not you were awake. Somehow the grips of Anorexia had you in a chokehold, and no matter how amazing you knew life could be without it, it still held you by the grips of hell.
Most of the time during the night you would wake up crying due to your dreams. In them, you'd be up against something you knew your eating disorder would never approve of. Sometimes it was eating a fear food or seeing a distorted perception of yourself in the mirror. Both made you cry in agony.

"Shhh now, I'm here. It's worth it, you're worth it." Cordelia moved to circle her arms around your waist, but you jumped back in disgust.
"No, don't touch me! My body isn't ready to be touched. You can't see me like this." Your reply came out as a growl, and the elder woman knew it wasn't you who was talking, but your disease.

"Y/N look at me." She cupped your chin softly, careful not to overstep any boundaries. "I've seen you both weight restored and underweight. I've touched you both twenty pounds heavier and 40 pounds lighter. You will always be beautiful in my eyes. But right now you're sick. You can't see what I see."

"I'm not sick. I just need to lose a few more pounds and then I'll stop."

Cordelia gave you a sad smile because this time she wasn't sure she could save you. And you were in no position to save yourself if you were still living in denial.

The past few weeks had been awful. There were countless screaming matches over food, and honestly Cordelia didn't even know how you had the energy to put up such a fight. It was heartbreaking to watch you become thinner and thinner as the days past. Each day you were dying and there wasn't much that the older woman could do about it.

"You know that's not true, Y/N. What happened last time you said that? You ended up passing out and stayed in the hospital for two weeks until you were medically cleared to leave. Do you want to go through that again?" You bit your lip to remain from crying, but your emotions betrayed you. Soon after, you felt Cordelia's thumbs wipe away the tears that fell down your face.

"It's just a few more pounds-"

"But it's not. What it is though, is you digging your grave deeper than it already is. It's your contract with death. I don't want that for you, but I can't make the choice for you, sweetheart. You have to do that on your own. So ask yourself now, and it won't be easy, but listen to what you want - not what your eating disorder wants. Do you want to get better?"

It was the million dollar question everyone asked. Despite the connection between your eating disorder, of course you wanted to get better. Everyday was misery and you missed enjoying life, but your disease had wrapped itself so carefully around you that it felt safe.

The real question was could you stand to get better? And not some bullshit weight gain "better", but the real thing. Could you stand to grow a few pant sizes? Could you stand to feel your jeans get tighter as you got healthier? Those were the minor things in the world that meant life or death to you.

"It'll be hard. And you will have your good days and there will be lots of bad days, but I will be with you every step of the way." Delia whispered while finger brushing your hair.
Your eyes grew heavy and you nuzzled your way back into the blonde as if the two of you never had this conversation. She accepted this and moved herself in a more comfortable position.