Anonymously Sweet -Larry Stylinson Short Story- AU

Part I

Anonymously Sweet

Warning: This story has a plotline based on males suffering from bulimia. It is highly triggering, and may ause discomfort with some readers. Please take caution.

Part I: The Purging

Louis was sick and tired. Tired of not being good enough. Tired of people pointing out his flaws. He did everything. Everything he possibly could. But now he relied on one last option.

Purging.

Sure he knew it wasn’t good, but he was tired of having a tummy. Why couldn’t he be a stick? A thin boy like everyone else he hung out with? Why couldn’t he eat without gaining an inch around his waist. He hated it. So, he threw up this food.

So far, it had worked. Nobody knew, not his sisters. Not his friends. Not his parents. Nobody had a clue. Sometimes he wouldn’t eat. Relying on small portions of a meal. Relying on that stupid toothbrush in the bathroom to make him lose all his food. To make him feel content. To make him feel okay. Other times, he would rely on stupid excuses.

Mum, I won’t be around for Dinner I’m going out.

Mum, I don’t feel well.

Whoops, I forgot my money at home

Can I only have half that? I had a late lunch.

Not Hungry.

Not Hungry.

I’m just not hungry.

 And Nobody took any signs. Any symptoms. Nobody questioned Louis eating habits. Nobody took it as a real problem. It was just Louis growing. Louis forgetting something. Louis this, Louis that. But his insecurities got the best of him. Everywhere.

“Hey Lou! Wanna hang out at the pool this weekend?”

“Sorry I’m babysitting.”

“Hey Lou, wanna go shopping with me?”

“Sorry I’m busy with school.”

He always had an excuse. Nobody knew his insecurities killed him every time he walked out the door. He always thought somebody was staring. Somebody was catching on to his secret life.

Voices in his head always reminding him. Be skinnier. You aren’t beautiful until you see the outline of your ribs. Until your stomach caves in. Until you weigh less. Until you can run faster. Until your thighs aren’t close. Until your wrists pop out.

It was absolutely atrocious.

-

Louis entered the coffee shop, being dragged in by his mate, Stan. He didn’t have a choice. He was brought here. He could always claim he forgot his money. But Stan, being Louis best friend, would buy him something anyways.

“What do ya want Lou?” Stan asked. Standing at the counter.

“I’m not up for coffee mate.” Louis excused. Running his thumb over his bony wrist.

Skinny Louis. Stay Skinny.

 “Yorkshire Tea it is then.” Stan smiled.

“Would you like any additives?” The woman behind the counter asked.

“Ye-“

“No.” Stan looked at Louis confused. Meanwhile In Louis head, gears were turning about how much he could gain with this simple up of tea.

“But you always-“

“Light is fine miss.” Louis smiled at the barista. She could care less about the bickering two. Stan shrugged it off, getting their drinks, a pastry for himself, and sitting down at a table by the window.

“What was that about?” Stan asked. Louis pulled the tea bags string. Making circles in the liquid. Avoiding the question. “Lou?” Stan asked concerned.

“I just like my tea light now. That’s all.” Louis assured with a smile. Louis glanced over at Stan’s large coffee, topped with all sorts of ‘high calorie’ items.

“You seem off.” Stan mumbled. Louis shrugged, sipping on his tea.

0 calories is always better than 10.

-

At dinner, Louis pushed his mashed potatoes from left to right on his plate. Merging them with the chicken on the side. Hoping it would swallow it up and make it go away.

“Louis, eat.” His mother said in a beseeched whisper. He brought the fork to his mouth. Swallowing hard like it was going to kill him. His sister Lottie, gazed at him across the table. Confusion written all over her face.

“You okay Louis?” She asked warily.

“My stomach hurts.” He mumbled. He heard the clatter of his mother’s fork on her plate.

“Again?” He nodded timidly. She sighed. “Go upstairs and rest love, I’ll wrap up your food.” He nodded, a secret smile forming in his mind. He hiked ‘sickly’ up the stairs. And within the 3 steps to the bathroom, he rushed in and shut the door.

Locking it then grabbing the toothbrush from the counter. Lifting the toilet seat, and using the toothbrush to hit the back of his throat, he guiltily emptied the contents of his stomach. His throat burned as he dry heaved. He had only 2 bites of dinner, his tea from stan, and a bite of a biscut for breakfast that his mother forced upon him. He spat in the porcelain bowl before flushing away the contents. Trying to get rid of all the disgust the purging left. He got up, setting the toothbrush back in its original spot, and rinsing his mouth out with a 3 cup of water. He looked at his likeness in the mirror. Blue eyes, coffee colored tousled hair, slightly tanned skin. He tentatively lifted the fabric of his blue shirt.

Fat.

 That’s all he could see. A tummy the size of Jupiter. Unloved love handles.

He wasn’t good enough. Not for himself, Not for his friends, Not for his family. He wasn’t good enough for any body.

Sighing, he put himself in pursuit of his room. Then began rummaging through clothing for pajamas and boxers. Sliding back to the bathroom for a shower.

Louis scrubbed away at the dirt on his body, the terrifying rumbles on his stomach making him sick to his head. He couldn’t eat. He shouldn’t eat. He won’t eat. He rinsed off the final traces of soap on his bare self, then turning off the water raining over his head. He slid out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He looked in the corner.

Maybe you lost something?

 Louis thoughts drove him to the corner, dropping the towel as he stood on the object that made him either insane, or ecstatic.

The God Almighty Scale.

 He closed his eyes, not wanting to look down just yet. Asking whomever lived in this world that he lost something. Just something. A pound, an ounce, a half ounce even! He looked down at the scale.

130.

He smiled with joy, he had lost 6 whole pounds. 6! He was pleased with himself for once.

He finished drying his unclothed body, then slipping into some pajamas.

130.

A Billion times better than 150.

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This is a short story. Therefore, it will only be 4-5 chapters. Thank you for reading Part I