Kurt's POV

I'm fat. There is literally shit hanging on my body. There are so many words to describe the visceral fat on me: vile, revolting, gross, obscene.

But it's a never ending cycle of self-destruction that only makes me turn in on myself.

Yes, I know I have a peculiar diet, or lack thereof, but it's not serious. I'm still healthy, and I'll stop when I'm satisfied. This fat needs to be gone and just… never come back.

No one knows that I only eat 300 calories or less a day, that I have been for almost four months. Not my dad, not my best friends, and certainly not my boyfriend, Blaine. They don't need to know, because I know that they would make a big deal out of it.

Look at me. I'm fine. Other than self-hatred, I fucking love this diet. I have control and power over myself. At the same time, I do hate it. The feeling of hunger and emptiness all the damn time just to be unable to see a physical difference. I should be losing weight, right?

I stood in front of my mirror, pinching the skin on my stomach. All I saw in the reflecting image was fat fat fat fat fat FAT FAT FAT FAT FAT. The mantra overwhelmed me, and angry tears rolled down my face. I wiped them away, annoyed at myself, hating myself. This happened every morning. A knock on the door. Also usual.

"Hey, Blaine," I greeted the visitor at my dorm door. He kissed me on my pudgy cheek, ignoring my blotchy skin that gave off the fact that I had been crying.

"Good morning, Kurt! I brought coffee," he offered generously. I accepted, grateful he had caught onto my habit of taking my coffee black without questions. Black coffee is zero calories after all.

"Thank you, baby," I said sincerely. Blaine smiled at the pet name and sat at my desk primly, crossing his legs.

"What do you have going on today?" I asked, inhaling the strong scent from the coffee cup.

"Just a physics test. I'll study some during lunch," he replied.

"I have a French test. I'll join you," I said nonchalantly. Blaine gave a look.

"You're already bilingual, Kurt. You should go have lunch with the Warblers," he suggested.

"And skip a chance to relax with you?" I flirted. "But Dalton's French does seem to sneak things into tests that I actually have to study for," I sighed.

"Then study we shall. Are you ready?" Blaine jumped up and reached out for my waist before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

The heavy voice in my head was screaming, "He can feel your fat hanging on your sides!" In that short moment, I was consumed with the same tension that had been building for months. I wonder how long it will take to let it take over completely...

Blaine's POV

I knew something was going on with Kurt. His energy had been dwindling lately, and he was turning into himself a bit, not much unlike how he acted when we first met. I understand it, I think. Being at Dalton as a mid-year transfer was hard. I had definitely lived that.

Sure, we were dating, but I can't claim to solve all of his problems. Maybe he needed his McKinley friends or maybe schoolwork was difficult? My plan was to give Kurt support and a shoulder to cry on, if need be. I won't pry. He would talk to me when he was ready.

Just like always, I knocked on Kurt's dorm door and offered the usual coffee when he opened the door.

"Hey, Blaine," he greeted with sad eyes. His soft brown hair was styled, but he was wearing his most baggy uniform. This morning was probably one of the harder days, I could tell.

"Good morning, Kurt! I brought coffee," I smiled brightly, seeing Kurt smile back in the slightest.

"Thank you, baby," he cooed. I smiled even wider and made myself comfortable at his desk.

"What do you have going on today?" he asked taking a cautious sip from the black coffee, a new drink habit that honestly confused me. Straight coffee was rough on the stomach. Plus, milk and coffee is just the most perfect food match I can think of.

"Just a physics test. I'll study some during lunch," I responded. The Warblers' practice room allowed food in it, so I would take some food there and have privacy.

"I have a French test. I'll join you," Kurt suggested. His company would be enjoyable, but I've heard him beautifully rant in French before. Why study? When I questioned him on that, he simply replied with the obvious: Dalton foreign language tests went past grammar and vocabulary. His sigh of anxiety was adorable.

"Then study we shall. Are you ready?" I asked and stood up. I walked over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He stiffened. He fucking stiffened and leaned away. His anguish over whatever is going on hurts me. I'm not angry at Kurt; rather I'm sad for him. The struggles in his life were really taking a toll on him. He's tired and losing weight noticeably…

No matter. I will do anything for his smile to reach his eyes again.