Mitch's P.O.V.
I was curled up on my bed, my body stiff from the lack of movement. I couldn't remember the last time I got up, it had to have been at least 4 days ago. My hair was greasy and my clothes were sticking to my body, I hadn't changed them in over a week.
My phone was dead, lying on my bedside table and it was if it was glaring at me, taunting me for my lack of strength. My computer was also silent, I had turned it off before I had collapsed onto my bed, tears streaming down my face.
I hadn't thought it possible for one person to cry as much as I did but I had proved myself wrong, my tears streaming down my face for hours, non-stop. At first I got up to go to the bathroom but after a few days I even stopped doing that, my body freezing in position for days.
I knew I was severely dehydrated, my water bottle long empty and I had had nothing to drink for at least three days by that point. No one was going to come and check on me, Jerome was in England with Vikk and even in the first few days when I wasn't active but checking my phone, no one seemed to care.
I thought back to the reason I was slowly dying, refusing to leave my bed as I stared at the ceiling and sleep being the only thing to pass the days. I had come out to my parents as gay and they had disowned me as their child, leaving me to myself. I thought they would be accepting but I was totally wrong, they kicked me out of their house and refused to talk to me.
I made my way back home, I had my own money but I was numb, refusing to talk. As soon as I got home I collapsed and cried. I cried for hours, my entire life had come crumbling down because of something I couldn't change.
Back in the present, my ears had become aware of some commotion downstairs but I didn't react, I physically couldn't move my body was too starved of energy. I was at the point where I couldn't even open my eyes, I was so tired.
I knew I was dying, I knew I wouldn't last much longer because I hadn't had any water in days and my body needed it to survive, but I didn't have enough water in my system to last.
The bed sank as the weight of a person was lowered onto it, someone was there. They pulled my body towards them and lifted me onto their lap, brushing my hair out of my face.
"Mitch? Mitch are you there?" The voice was soft, and I knew at once that it was Jerome, I had heard his voice enough to know what he sounded like. But I couldn't respond.
There was a small amount of shifting and my body moved ever so slightly before I felt small drops of water entering my mouth. It was a water bottle, and Jerome was gently squeezing it so a small amount of water entered my mouth.
I was struggling to swallow but after the water had removed the dryness of my mouth I was able too, slowly and carefully. Jerome was feeding me like most people would feed a new-born baby a bottle, the child resting in the crook of your arm and holding the bottle just above their mouth.
After a few minutes I could feel my body slowly regaining a little bit of strength, not a lot but enough that I could open my eyes and look up at Jerome. When he saw me looking he removed the bottle and moved me so I was sitting up more, leaning into his chest.
"What happened Mitchy, this isn't like you. Why did you stop trying?" His voice was cracking every few words and I could tell he was trying not to cry, and I knew if I had the energy I would be too, but I didn't.
------------------------------------------------
It was a few hours later and I had regained a lot of my energy. Jerome had taken me downstairs and gave me some food to eat, not a lot but enough that I could talk.
I told him everything, about how I had come out to my parents and how they had kicked me out, all the way to right then. I was still in my week old clothes and after I had told him everything, he picked me up carried me into the bathroom, I was still to weak to walk.
He disappeared for a few seconds and came back with a pile of new clothes but I didn't take much notice of it, I was mostly concentrating on keeping my balance on the side of the bathtub, which was where I was sitting.
With the help of Jerome I managed to get most of my clothes off, leaving my boxers on and he did the same, holding me up as he practically carried me into the shower.
The shower was big enough that I could sit on the floor while Jerome somehow maneuvered his way around me, grabbing everything he needed. While I was on the floor he washed my hair, and I could swear I saw dirt washing down the drain.
After a while Jerome lifted me up and I leaned against him, exhausted. He started to clean my body with a facecloth, but I don't think I was helping, I was relying on him totally for support to stay upright.
"Come on Mitch, once you're dressed you can go to bed." I nodded but my eyes were getting so heavy, too heavy. I felt a small kiss land on my forehead and then I was lifted up into the air.
A fluffy towel was wrapped around my body and my boxers were gently slipped off to stop me getting wet and still dripping wet, I was carried into Jerome's room. My bed still had my dirty sheets so there was no way Jerome would let me sleep there.
Jerome gently towelled my hair and pulled one huge t-shirts over my head, and then a pair of sweatpants before he buried me underneath a pile of blankets and buried himself with me.
"Come on, you need sleep. We'll talk in the morning okay." I nodded and Jerome tangled our legs together, and as I lay there listening to Jerome's breathing he gently placed his finger underneath my chin and we made eye contact.
I felt blood rush into my face and I knew I was blushing, hardcore. He smiled and bought our faces close together before his lips landed on mine and we kissed.
When he pulled back I could see a faint blush colouring his cheeks, but I knew it was nothing compared to me, I could feel the redness of my cheeks. I buried my face in his chest and I heard him laugh, and then his hand ran through my hair.
"Sleep you, you've still got a long way to go."