"Hey Hazza! Time to wake up, love," Zayn shouted, throwing open the blinds in Harry's room. Harry moaned as the bright sun beams struck his sleepy eyes, and pulled the covers over his face to avoid the morning light.
"Fuck off, Zayn!" Harry groaned as he readjusted himself beneath the lilac blanket.
Zayn laughed and pulled the covers off of Harry, causing him to jolt awake in a panic as the cold winter air hit his skin.
"Zayn, you know I get fucking cold. Stop!" Harry shouted. His thin body was completely covered in thick sweatpants, woolen socks and two sweatshirts, but he was shivering profusely, his long brown curls bouncing on his back.
Just at that moment, Liam walked into the room. While Zayn was usually considered the prankster, Liam was the "dad" of the bunch, always delegating chores to everyone in the flat and making sure each boy got home okay after a long night out at the pub.
Liam took one look at Harry shivering and rolling around his bed like a rolly polly bug and shot Zayn a dirty look, glaring at him with his deep brown eyes. "Zayn," he hissed through his teeth. "You have to be gentle with him. You know he gets cold, you can't shock his body like that."
Harry, who was now sitting upright in bed, nodded in agreement, his big green eyes looking a bit more lively than usual, but still scarily sunken into his gaunt face.
Zayn looked down at the floor, guiltily, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said quietly. "I just wanted you to get up because we're making you breakfast before we leave for work this morning."
Harry nodded, but his stomach lurched at the thought of eating something. "Hazza," Liam cooed, as he helped Harry down from his lofted bed, offering him a strong arm for support. "Just come and try a few bites. It's just fruit with yogurt. We got Greek yogurt -- it's healthy and has protein."
"Sure," Harry said softly, his voice cracking a bit. "I can handle that. I had more than that most mornings at the hospital."
"Of course, mate. You can do it," Zayn said, leading him to the kitchen. Liam took a seat with Harry at the square, cream-colored table and handed him a spoon. Unlike Liam, who had been up for hours prepping for his presentation and getting dressed, Zayn was running late, and struggled with his tie in the corner of the kitchen.
"Fuck this presentation today," Zayn groaned to Liam, as he redid the knot for the second time.
"Hey -- I prepared hard for this. You better not fuck us over here Malik. My promotion depends on it," Liam replied, stone-faced. Zayn stared back at him, tie in hand, and then the two boys burst out laughing, their high-pitched giggles filling the quiet kitchen nook.
"Fuck you mate," Zayn giggled, slapping Liam's shoulder. "I thought you were bloody serious."
Zayn and Liam had met about a year ago when working at the same office building in Canary Wharf. Oddly enough, Zayn was moving out of his old place when Liam desperately needed another roommate a few months ago, so Liam offered him a room and things went swimmingly from there.
Zayn moved in with Liam and Harry, his best friend from uni, and the three of them hit off perfectly, despite Liam and Harry having a deeper history. In fact, after just a few weeks, Harry and Zayn began to form a close friendship. In fact, sometimes Harry preferred to tell things to Zayn rather than Liam -- mostly because he was less protective and didn't overreact quite as much.
As Zayn and Liam laughed over their presentation, Harry sat at the table, swirling his yogurt around with his spoon and taking small, slow bites. As he returned his gaze to Harry, Liam furrowed his brow at the sighing boy, who was now stuffing little fruit pieces into his napkin.
"Harry," Liam said softly. "Love, please don't throw your food away. You have to eat." Harry looked up at him, his green eyes watering, and shook his head. "I -- I just can't," he whispered. "They made me eat so much at the hospital. I can't do it anymore."
Harry began to get up from the table, his thin legs shaking as he tried to steady himself on the cold tile floor. Zayn, who was now leaning against the kitchen counter behind the two other boys, gently grabbed Harry's arm and gave him a sad look. "Please, Harry," he said. "Liam and I just want to help you with your meal plan. If you think it's too much you can ask your nutritionist on Wednesday when you see her. But for now, we just want you to try and have breakfast. Not even all of it -- just half. Please?"
Harry sat back down in the chair, frowning deeply as he looked at the mushy pile he had just created in his bowl. Sensing his disgust at the texture, Liam swapped bowls with him. "Here, have mine. I haven't touched it yet," he said with a smile.
Harry grabbed the spoon and slowly ate three medium-sized bites. The yogurt was actually delicious -- but it wasn't the flavor he was afraid of. It was the calories. And the carbs and the fat and the hours it would take to burn it all off... Harry shuddered as he thought of the weight that he was probably gaining just by sitting here.
Liam sent a guilty to Zayn and started scarfing down Harry's yogurt bowl, rising up quickly afterwards to put it in the sink. "Hungry, Z?" he asked. "No time, mate," replied Zayn with an exaggerated sigh. "This tie took all day. Hit me with a rice crispy treat. I'll eat it on the tube."
If he was being honest, Zayn wasn't much of a breakfast-eater. Ever since he was a kid, he never had much of an appetite in the morning. But he had to make a conscious effort to avoid skipping meals around Harry, who according to Liam, would only be encouraged and triggered by the experience. Zayn wasn't so sure that was true, but he didn't want to take a risk on the younger boy's health, which was already rapidly deteriorating.
Harry stared at Zayn in horror as he took the Rice Crispy Treat from Liam. How could someone eat so unhealthily and still be thin? If I ate that I would look awful in seconds... Harry thought to himself.
"Harry?" Liam called over his shoulder. Without Harry noticing, his roommates had left the kitchen and were now standing by the front door. "Harry, please eat as much as you can. And keep it down, love. We'll be back during lunch to check on you. No exercising please. Your heart is too weak. The doctors showed me the tests."
"I won't, I promise," Harry called across the room. He flashed a forced smile to Zayn and Liam, who were now jogging out the door with their suitcases, and waved goodbye.
But even Harry knew he was lying when he said that. As soon as Zayn and Liam left, he dumped the rest of the yogurt down the garbage disposal and ran upstairs to his room to do jumping jacks.
It's not that he didn't care -- or that he wanted to hurt himself. He appreciated everything Liam and Zayn were doing, and he wanted more than anything to be able to eat and follow his meal plan. He really did. In fact, Harry was quite aware of the situation at hand. He knew he was extremely sick and underweight. He saw the dropping numbers on the scale and the blood pressure machine. He knew his health was at an all time low.
It wasn't that he didn't care about his health -- it was that the voice in his head was louder and more controlling than any will of his own. And though he knew logically he had to eat, he simply could not silence the blood-curdling screams in his mind begging him not to eat, demanding that he exercise compulsively, and telling him he was too fat, too ugly, too worthless.
Liam and Zayn were well aware of Harry's situation too. They knew that his disorder was deeply rooted in mental health, and that even if Harry promised something, the voice in his head might convince him otherwise. After they left the flat, the two of them conversed in the hallway about how worried they were -- and how much worse Harry was getting. "He wouldn't even eat the fruit. The fruit, Liam, it's like 30 calories," Zayn said in a worried tone.
Liam nodded, pressing the button on the elevator as he checked his watch. "I know -- and there's no way he's gonna keep it down. He'll either purge or exercise. I just don't know what to do anymore," he replied, shaking his head and lowering his eyes.
Suddenly, the elevator doors opened. Liam stepped forward mindlessly, ready to hop in, but instead was met with the crumpling sound of his foot on a cardboard box.
He looked up into the elevator, flustered, and his eyes opened wide in response to what he saw. Inside stood a petite brunette man with big blue eyes surrounded by about 15 boxes, piled high. Zayn watched in amusement as Liam furiously looked down at his watch for a second time.
"Sorry mates," the man replied. He smiled snarkily at the two lads as he tried to push the boxes out of the elevator one by one. "Just moving in today and I didn't want to make more than one trip."
"That's okay," Liam replied shortly, turning on his heel. "We'll take the stairs."
Zayn shook his head and followed after Liam. "Nice to meet you, neighbor," he cried over his shoulder. "I'm Zayn. Mr. Straight Edge is Liam."
The man laughed and shouted back at Zayn. "Louis," he said loudly. "Nice to meet you. See you around lads."
He sure would.