i literally do not know what to say
also just realized i never did one of those introduction chapters where i introduce the reader to my book and to me and stuff. should i do one of those?
anyways
TWS:
- anorexic behavior/thoughts
- negative self-thought/speech
- passing out/unconsciousness
- hospital/IV
-
there is no intended shipping in this oneshot, but if you prefer to interpret it that way, be my guest
enjoy!
Drawing the curtains with a sigh, Grian returns to his kitchen, the smell of freshly baked sweets wafting through the air. As the buzzer on his oven sounds, he grabs a potholder and opens the oven, grabbing the steaming tray and placing it on his stovetop. He then grabs another tray, this one filled with raw cookies that have yet to be baked, and resets the timer on the oven.
After about another hour, all of the dough is used and the cookies sit steaming, arranged nicely on three platters. But he hasn't tasted one yet. Why would he? He's eaten way too much this week anyways.
A knock on his door interrupts Grian's thoughts.
"Grian?" a muffled voice calls from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"
He sighs before slowly making his way over to his door, pausing for a moment before unlocking it and letting it creak open. In front of him stands Scar, his usual bright smile illuminating his face.
"Well hello there!" he says in his normal, chipper voice. "How are you doing on this fine day?"
Grian smiles tiredly. "Yeah, I'm alright. You?" he asks in return.
"I'm doing just swell today," Scar replies, his smile unwavering. "Say, what's that smell coming from inside? It smells really good," Scar inquires.
Glancing back to his kitchen, Grian steps back to let Scar inside. "I just finished making cookies, do you want any?"
At this, Scar's face lights up like a little girl unwrapping a new toy on Christmas morning. "Oh my gosh, I would love to!" Scar waltzes inside Grian's base, beelining for the counter on which the cookies sit. Grian closes the door softly behind him and follows him into the kitchen. "Does it matter which one I take?" Scar asks respectfully.
Grian shrugs. "No, not really."
Scar smiles before grabbing one of them. He starts to take a bite.
"Wait, Scar!" Grain exclaims, reaching out towards his elven friend. But he's too late, as Scar's face immediately turns to shock. He pulls the cookie out of his mouth quickly as his tongue starts to feel a burning sensation. Grian winces.
"They just came out of the oven, Scar," he says, running over to his sink. He turns it on and runs it cold, beckoning Scar over to him.
"Mmh thung!" Scar's words slur together as he tries to speak with his tongue sticking out. Meanwhile, Grian wets a paper towel with the cold water and gives it to Scar.
"Here, lay this on your tongue for a few minutes," Grian instructs. "It should help the burning."
Scar nods his head in appreciation before doing so. After noticing Scar's slightly sad face, Grian pulls him into a hug and rubs comforting circles on his back, trying to soothe him.
A few minutes pass and Scar starts to feel better, so he discards the paper towel.
"I'm so sorry, Grian. I didn't mean to spit out your cookie!" Scar apologizes profusely.
"It's alright, Scar," Grian reassures. "You can just have another one, I made plenty," he smiles up at Scar, internally laughing at his antics. Yes, Scar can be a bit careless sometimes, but Grian doesn't mind, and in fact finds it quite adorable.
"Anyways," Scar starts, reaching into his inventory to look for something. Once he finds it, he pulls it out and presents it to Grian. "I made you cookies as well! These are elven cookies, made from my family's recipe and all of my heart!" Scar extends a plastic bag with three cookies held inside.
"Awww, Scar," Grian says. "That's sweet of you, you didn't have to."
"I didn't have to, but I did, and I want you to enjoy them!"
"Thank you, buddy," Grian takes the bag from Scar and places it on the counter. "I'll save these for later."
Accepting the answer, Scar's bright smile returns to his face as he wraps his arms around Grian in a short and sweet hug before walking over to his front door.
"Sorry to cut this short, but I've got more cookies to deliver," Scar says while opening the door. Grian remains in his kitchen area. "I'll come back later for more of yours, they're delicious!" And with that, Scar uses a firework rocket to soar into the sky and towards another Hermit's base.
Now that Scar's gone, Grian's smile falters before dropping. He glances back at the bag of elven cookies on his counter. He really wants to taste one, to tell Scar how amazing of a baker he is, but Grian holds himself back, and instead takes the bag and hides it in the back of his refrigerator. He shouldn't eat them. He doesn't need the extra calories or weight gain.
"Is everyone here?" A heavy British accent calls out to the crowd of gathered Hermits.
There are a few murmurs here and there, but someone eventually shouts out "Grian's not!"
Xisuma checks the time on his communicator. 15:07 (3:07 p.m.) Everyone should have been here by now. "We'll start the meeting without him," Xisuma decides. "Someone can fill him in later."
Grian watches from afar as the meeting commences. He would've been there 10 minutes ago, but he can't lift himself off the ground. Deciding to walk there was a big mistake, because Grian has had to take many breaks to catch his breath and rest his legs. He almost wants to call out to the others, ask them to wait for him, but that would be too suspicious, and he can't even muster the strength to talk, much less yell.
As Grian rises from his resting position and begins to walk again, he immediately collapses onto the grassy ground, his forearms acting as supports. His body fails him as he tries to get up again. Ugh, I really need to eat less. Grian thinks to himself. I'm so fat that I can't even manage to stand up!
A sleepy feeling suddenly overcomes him, and his forearms buckle. They give out as he collapses to the ground unconscious.
Grian's eyes flutter open slowly as he takes in his surroundings, trying to determine where he is. Finding the strength to sit up, Grian tries to, but struggles. Almost immediately, a stronger set of hands eases him upwards. They move a pillow behind Grian for him to rest his back against, and are very careful with the way that they handle him.
Still with blurry vision, Grian tries to make out the room. After a few moments of blinking and letting his eyes adjust, he recognizes the server's hospital. More specifically, this is the exact room that he and Mumbo had designed together when the hospital was first being built.
Looking to identify the person who helped him sit up, Grian turns his head to his left and sees Joe, who has one hand resting on his leg. In the background, Grian can hear the sound of pen on paper, and can see Cub, writing away on a clipboard with intense focus.
Grian tries to move his arms to feel his head, but Joe immediately holds them down. Confused, Grian looks at his arms to see IVs on both sides, feeding his blood with, well, whatever's in the tubing. Grian looks back at Joe, confusion written all over his face, before Joe sighs.
"Grian, on a scale from 1-10, what would you rate how you've been eating recently, 1 being horribly, 10 being very well?"
Grian takes a moment to generate an answer. "Probably 7?" he says with a guessing tone. "I've been eating way more than I should be recently," Grian's eyes focus on his lap in shame.
Joe sighs again, this time heavier. "Grian," he says, scratching his forehead for a moment. "We found you passed out somewhere in the shopping district, and when we checked your vitals, you were nearly dead," Grian shivers a little at that. "Your breathing rate and pulse were a little slow, but not lethal. Your weight, on the other hand..." Joe trails off, hoping that Grian would get his message. However, he had it flipped.
Tears begin to prick at Grian's eyes as he speaks. "Yeah, I know," he pauses momentarily. "I really need to stop eating so much. How overweight was I?" he asks, trying not to cry.
Joe looks at Grian in shock for a few seconds before taking his hand. "Grian, you're not overweight. Quite far from it, actually. You're severely underweight, which isn't good. So please stop starving yourself."
"What- what do you mean?" he stammers. "I'm not starving, I'm just far too fat to be eating any more than I usually do."
"Please don't call yourself that. You're not. And what do you usually eat?"
Grian doesn't answer, because he knows the answer is nothing.
"Grian," Joe starts. "This is serious! If you don't get enough food and water into your body, you could die! You probably passed out on your way to the meeting because your body physically couldn't support itself anymore! What would have happened if we didn't find you? You could've died, Grian!"
He doesn't respond, only looking down into his lap in guilt. "I'm- I'm- I'm sorry," he mumbles out, a single tear rolling down his face.
Joe squeezes his hand a little. "I know you are. But please promise me that you'll try to eat more? I understand that it may feel like you're gaining 10 kilograms per bite, but I, as well as the others, will stop at nothing to help you through this. You will recover, Grian. I'm sorry that there isn't a cure I can give you, but I know you. You're strong and willful. You can, and will, overcome this."
Grian nods his head a little, more tears falling from his eyes.
"I'll try my best."
1,642 words
wow uhm it's been 2 weeks
once again, please get professional help if you feel the way that Grian has in this chapter, it's not healthy or okay in any way shape or form.
QUESTION OF THE ONESHOT: (help i totally forgot about these)
do you play an instrument? if so, which one(s)?
i play the flute :)
hope you enjoyed, take care of yourselves, see you in the next oneshot!
<3