Matthew stared down at the food in front of him with a solemn look, his face showing no emotion as his eyes glimmered with anxiety. His hand made no movenent to grab the fork placed next to the pancakes and 'dig in', or to pour maple syrup on them until his plate over-flowed with the sticky sap. Quickly directing his gaze back to his lap, he hung his head down to try and avoid the harsh glare from across the table.
"Matthew.Eat." He began to bite on his lip, not knowing how to respond to the other, before simoly shaking his head. "Why not? What happened? What changed? What did somebody ever do to you that made you decide to fucking starve yourself?!" Alfred looked down (having stood at the beginning of his outburst) at his little brother, who you could easily tell was holding in tears. "I...I'm sorry for yelling Matthew, I got myself a little riled up didn't I?" He laughed quietly in a fail of an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
Once again, Matthew shook his head, wiping at his eyes. He tried to speak, but only a choked sound came out. How could his brother expect him to eat that? A pile of fat, carbohydrates, sugar, and holy hell so many calories. He still couldn't understand how he had eaten them all the time, AT LEAST once a day.
He had let himself go, and in return grown into a jiggly, disgusting, big, fat, unlovable, piece of lard. How could Alfred not understand, this is the only way to make himself wanted, by himself and others. This was the only way to get control in his life, and while everyone else left him, the hunger and sense of power that came along with it would stay.
"Please." Alfred begged, breaking Matthew's train of thought and the five minute long period of silence. "Just eat one? At least half of one?" Matthew looked up at him, opened his mouth, closed it again after he found himself unable to say anything, and shook his head. Standing up slowly as to reduce the dizziness, he pushed in his chair, and walked around the table. He wrapped his tiny arms around Alfred, and finally, his voice worked.
"Thank you Alfred, but I'm fine."
A quiet sob echoed in the room, and Alfred buried his face in Matthew's brittle hair and cried. "No. No, your not. You're just saying that. Let me help, please, please I love you so much."
Matthew tried to blink the tears from his eyes, but began to cry along with his brother. Not because of the pain he himself felt, but because he had caused somebody else sadness. All because he had been to clueless and been discovered.
Well, that was the prologue to, "It's Always the Quiet Ones." If you read my profile you will have know why I am writing this, so, instead of putting it here and pointlessly upping word count I will give you a long sentence that means 'read my profile for more info'! I hope you enjoyed my unedited and not grammar or spell-checked prologue, and if you did please review to tell me! Or tell me how horrible I did, because flames will be used to burn haters ay the stake and buddy you're just setting yourself up.
Hope you understand, and goodbye!