Feb 25
So in the other chapter Harry said he was gonna take Lou to the doctor but I decided I wanted it to be Liam... so I changed it. Sorry!
Louis' POV
It's around 12:30pm when Liam arrives.
"Hey," I say, opening the door and leading him inside. "How are you?"
"Good," Liam replies. He's all dressed up in his work clothes - grey slacks and a white collared shirt - and he's holding a bag from Pret.
"Oh, what's that?" I ask, swallowing thickly.
"Oh, the sandwiches. Remember, I texted you last night about what you wanted? You said turkey and avocado on wheat, right?" Liam says, unbagging the food. "And I got us yogurt cups too, as the dairy product for the meal."
I jerk my head forward, nodding robotically. "Yeah, yeah, right. I guess I kind of forgot."
"No worries," Liam says. He grabs two paper plates from the cabinet and sets them down.
I shrug, trying to ignore the nervousness wracking my body as Liam takes a bite of his sandwich. I guess I'm supposed to be eating mine too.... but the voice is so s t r o n g.
It's been strong ever since I got home, honestly. I also realized something horrible: the voice isn't just there when I'm eating, it's there after too. In fact, it's probably worse after because of the guilt I feel when the food is sitting there in my stomach.
I first notice this yesterday when I broke down crying the minute Harry left. At first, I didn't know why I was so upset. But then the thoughts began to fill my mind the same way the food had filled my stomach. And I started thinking about How the peanut butter was making me fatter by the second. How I had to go downstairs to the gym to burn it off. How I was stupid for believing them when they told me I was sick - I wasn't sick. I was fat. So fat...
I called Harry about a half hour later. It was so fucking embarrassing. He was literally just at my house, and had been at the hospital with me all weekend. He probably just wanted a break of me. But of course I had to be a burden. Of course I couldn't take care of myself.
I promised Liam and Niall that I could be independent. That I would handle this. But here I was, crying over a fucking spoonful of peanut butter.
"Hello? Louis, are you okay?" Harry asked, a hint of surprise breaking through his usual monotone.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly. "I um, just had a question. I guess I could have texted you... feel stupid now for calling because you were just here."
"No, it's totally fine," Harry replied. "I like to hear the sound of your voice."
I'm pretty sure I blushed when he said that. Did he really? The sound of my voice. I had been always been told it was high pitched and irritating.
"Thanks," I said, coughing a bit. "I, um. Just honestly having a real time dealing with this guilt. I feel the urge to go to the gym to burn this off and I keep pacing around like a mad man. Eating is only half the battle... now I have to like, not burn it off."
"Right, that's tough," Harry says. His voice deepens a bit and I hear the faint sound of a woman's voice in the background. That's odd, though. It's probably just the television.
"I remember doing that. Pacing around just wishing I had an object sharp enough..." Harry continues. "I still do that sometimes. It sucks, I know. You just need something to take your mind off it. Writing, maybe. Or Netflix. Maybe even window shopping. Anything you like do."
I bit my lip, thinking about the options. My head had been so muddled lately that writing had begun to feel like a chore.
"I guess I'll try Netflix. Anything you recommend?" I asked.
"Shameless," Harry replied automatically. "It's a dram-edy. Drama, comedy. Right up your alley. You'll love it."
"Okay," I said. "Thanks. For everything, Harry really."
Harry paused for a minute and the voice I heard before got louder. Holy shit... was it... her?
"You're welcome, Lou," Harry said after a while. "I'm always here to help. Sorry, I just have to take care of something. But I hope you like the show. Text me if you need anything else."
"Right, of course," I replied flatly.
What else did he have to take care of though? His baby mama's pussy?
"Bye, honey," Harry said. Then he clicked off the phone, leaving mysteries swirling around in my head and nausea dancing in my stomach.
Now, as Liam sits next to me at the counter, I can't help but wonder if he knows something about Harry. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but all of this is seeming a little too good to be true if you ask me. Harry was the one who hurt me so badly and caused this mess. Is it really a coincidence that he's also the one helping to repair the damage?
Sometimes people just want a clean conscience so they can move past the guilt... When I get better, will be still be holding my hand and kissing my neck? Or will he be right back where he started with Eliza?
"Lou, are you gonna eat?" Liam asks. His voice interrupts my conspiracy theories, and I force a nod and smile.
"Yup," I say, taking my sandwich out of the bag. As soon as I look at the size of it, I want to toss it directly in the garbage. It's way too much food. And then a yogurt on top of that? No.
I manage a small bite, and notice that Liam is nearly done with his. "Sorry to be slow," I say.
"No worries. We still have an hour before your appointment," Liam says cheerily.
Does he know that it's been taking me a full hour to finish my meals - sometimes even more?
Not that I really have been following my meal plan lately... I mean I have been trying. I promised Harry I would try and I really am. But some of the meals are just too overwhelming and I have to adapt them. Like macaroni and cheese. Fat and carbs? I ended up having rice noodles instead....
I know I'm not supposed to do that. They specifically said not to alter the meal plan. But I've been on it for only two days, and I could hardly stomach any of the full meals that they put down. It was better than nothing.
"So, how are things going?" I ask, trying to take my mind off the myriad of thoughts attacking my mind.
"They're okay," Liam says, taking a spoonful of his yogurt. I try not to wince as I think about how I have to have one too. "I met with Zayn after all. You guys were right. I know I shouldn't have. But I got closure. He was never in Milan at all. He was doing projects all over, mostly here in London. It's fucked up but at least I know the truth. He's a cheater and a liar. Good luck to whoever gets with him next."
"That's awful," I reply. "You really are better off without him. I'm glad you got closure.... you didn't fuck him though did you?...."
"I did," Liam admits, wincing a bit. "It'll be the last time ever though. I'm done with him."
I wrinkle my nose, trying to force down the rest of my sandwich while my mind is still somewhat quiet. "Aw, Li. Well I won't judge you for that. I get it's complicated, but yeah never again."
"Yeah," Liam says, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I should probably get tested after all that. We always used protection, but I still feel dirty. Knowing all the guys he slept with after he left my place..."
I nod and toss away the crusts of my sandwich. Ends aside, I'm pretty much done with it.
"Yeah, he was a sleeze bag," I reply. I had only met Zayn twice, and I remember walking away both times with a bad impression. He was rude, overbearing and narcissistic, always shoving his modeling career down our throats.
"I made 4,000 pounds on the last photo shoot," he boasted over a glass of Whiskey the first night I saw him. "Good looks really do pay off."
"They sure do," Liam replied, kissing him gingerly on the cheek.
"You should get Liam a gig then, yeah?" I said with a smile. "He's good looking too."
Zayn shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Maybe. Not sure Li has what it takes. It's a hell of a lifestyle."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just not sure he has the chops for it," Zayn replied, squeezing Liam's cheek. "I still love you though, Li. You're my little businessman."
Ugh. Thinking back on it, Zayn was way worse than I remembered. Purely conceited and constantly belittling Liam. No wonder Liam was always so mopey all the time during their relationship.
"Yup," Liam says, handing me my yogurt. "We have ten more minutes to finish. I don't want to rush you, though."
I nod, understandingly. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine. Thanks for coming to this appointment by the way. I don't really wanna go alone."
"Sure," Liam replies as he throws his trash away. "I also wanted to apologize again for that comment about the pamphlets and the diagnosis and all that. I shouldn't just treat you like a kid. I'm here to support you, not baby you."
"Thanks," I reply, smiling. I'm glad he knows he fucked up. What he said wasn't okay. And he's right. I don't need to be babied.
Though if I am being honest with myself, sometimes I want to be. Sometimes I just wish someone was here to hold me and watch TV with me and tell me it's going to be okay. That I'm going to stop obsessing about food and exercise. That the thoughts will grow quieter. That I will get my life back.
And I don't just want someone to do those things... I want Harry.
"I appreciate it," I say, taking a spoonful of yogurt. I instantly feel overtaken by anxiety as I realize how thick and rich it is. It's so filling - and the last thing I want is to be stuffed right now. I already feel pretty full.
I put the yogurt down and push it away. "Sorry, I just can't. I feel too full."
Liam raises an eyebrow, looking over at the opened container. "Okay.... well, maybe try? I don't really know what to say..."
I shrug. "I mean I should it eat, I guess. And I can. It'll just make me really uncomfortable and anxious."
"Well isn't the recovery process all about pushing past discomfort?" Liam asks. We lock eyes, and I feel my cheeks grow hot. Why is he talking to me like I'm a fucking idiot?
"Yeah," I say, clearing away the trash. "It's just hard for me to explain what it feels like. Like for me feeling full is the equivalent of setting my hand on fire. Unbearable. I just... I don't know Liam. I'm not finishing it. Okay. I'm gonna tell the nutritionist this meal plan was too much."
Liam nods, though he doesn't look all too convinced. "Okay. But they may make you do inpatient if you can't do it."
I turn on my heel, my face darkening as I stare at Liam. "Is that a threat?"
"What, no," he says. "It's just... they could. You're sick enough..."
"Wow," I scoff. "Okay, Liam. Well you're not my doctor so you don't know that. And also, no one can force me into inpatient as an adult. It's my decision. Can't you just have a little faith in me? I'm trying my fucking best."
"I know," Liam says. "Okay, sorry. I'm not good at this. I really don't know how to help. It seems like every time I try, I just make you mad."
"You make me mad because you're telling me what to do and you're telling me what's going to happen and explaining the consequences," I snap. "I'm not a child Liam. Okay. I know the consequences. And if you were inside my head right now, you would know the fucking battlefield I'm trying to fight through right now. And let me tell you, just getting that sandwich down was trouble enough....And even once it's down. I'm not done fighting, because then I have to resist the incessant urge to exercise and burn it all off."
"Wow, okay... I had no idea that's what was going on," Liam stammers.
"Yeah," I reply. "You don't. Because they don't put that in the pamphlet. They just say weak bones, hair loss, etc. They don't tell you about the shit going on the inside."
"Yeah, that sounds... truly unbearable," Liam says, rubbing his face with his hand. "I'm so sorry you're going through that."
"Don't be," I say, rolling my eyes. "Let's just go to the doctor's so we can see if I'm getting any better. Liam, you don't have to do anything special with me. Just talk to me, tell me what's going on. All I need right now is to be distracted. That's what Harry does. Distracts me."
"Oh, Harry," Liam says. I nod and grab the keys so we can head out. "What's going on with him?"
I shrug, a coy smile creeping across my lips. Maybe he understands this distraction thing better than I thought.
"We're into each other," I reply. "Maybe when we sort our shit out something will go down."
"Sounds like you like each other. He speaks so highly of you. Thinks you're gorgeous and intelligent and eloquent - and a million other adjectives," Liam giggles.
"Really now?" I reply as we head to the elevator. "With language like that, maybe his next poem will be about me...."
"Maybe it will be," Liam says.
We wait for the elevator to reach the lobby, and then step outside, heading to the last place I want to go to, but the only place that can help me. The hospital.