RELAPSE. This entire summer I've been fucking myself, and my health up. But I'm sick of treating myself like this and wasting my entire summer. In the last month I've lost about ten pounds, and my mom is very not so happy with that. Not going to try to gain weight, but I'm going to try and get my shit together, stop binging and purging, and start eating decent-sized meals instead of just occasional snacks and ridiculous amounts of diet soda. I just turned sixteen and realized that I have now wasted a fourth of my life on my eating disorder. Nope! I'm done! I'm fucking done! Let it be known that tomorrow is my first day of actual, not half-assed, recovery. AH.
Anyways, enough about my personal life and on to the chapter, which may end up one of two ways. Either fluff or lots of tears and angst. I know it sounds crazy but I haven't really decided yet? Writer's problems, having too many possibilities and outcomes for a story and not being able to decide until the last moment. Ugh. I do promise some more actual (positive!) appearances from Francis in the very, very near future.
(Reviews are extremely appreciated, as long as follows and favorites, of course. When I read reviews I appreciate the feedback, but really, I just love hearing back from my readers! It really does make my day. Random messages as well, which I have had a few of from you lovely people, one of which became my beta reader. She is fantastic so please give her a pat on the back for my erratic schedule!)
"Why are you so wet?" Arthur immediately questioned at Alfred's arrival, his eyes following the trail of water behind him, a series of small puddles that had begun to form a small body of water down the halls.
Alfred sighed, pulling down his hood. After revealing the mop that was currently residing on his head he decided the best course of action would be to shake his head rapidly to splash water all over surrounding surfaces, including Arthur. Arthur squawked indignantly, but Alfred couldn't bring himself to laugh at it. Instead he just shrugged and focused intently on his shoes.
An eyebrow quirked, Arthur continued the one-sided conversation. "So you don't know why you're wet? The majority of the outdoor portion has a canopy, so even with the storm going, you shouldn't be soaked to the bone like you are. With how badly your shivering I'm beginning to question if you just got freed from a block of ice." Licking his lips, Alfred brought his arms up to hug himself, trying to get even the smallest bit of warmth. Arthur watched, eyebrows furrowing in concern.
"Francis took our car, we had to walk." After Alfred said this, voice almost emotionless, Arthur's eyebrows furrowed deeper.
"He did? I didn't see it in our driveway. Then again, he dropped me off early then left. What is that bastard up to?" Arthur seemed to be thinking out loud, fiddling with his fingers, and Alfred watched in muted amusement. "Did you… walk all the way here?"
Again, Alfred shrugged. "It wasn't that far. Besides, I could use the exercise."
Arthur's eyes shot back up, making a piercing eye contact with Alfred. "Even if you have trouble seeing it, you are still quite thin."
Alfred wanted to say something along the lines of 'it's not that I have trouble seeing it, I have trouble believing what I see.' but decided to simply shrug again.
Sighing, Arthur began to take off his jacket. "You're awfully fond of shrugging this morning. Having a bad day?" Alfred nodded, mustering up a lackluster smile, which only made Arthur frown. "You don't have to smile if you don't feel like smiling. If you're struggling with something I am always willing to talk to you about it, but that's one of our rules, remember? Don't pretend that you're happy when you're not. Life will throw enough bullshit at you to have to deal with people you trust dishing it out to you."
He quickly dropped the smile and returned to his blank expression. "Sorry, it's just one of those days. How have you been doing though? All we've been talking about is me for the past few days."
Arthur hesitated. "They may up the dose of my medication, which I'm not exactly excited about, because the side effects tend to hit me pretty hard. But Francis is all for it and apparently my insurance is willing to cover a higher dose. It's this confusing, weird double-standard surrounding orphans that implies the government gives them too much money, but at the same time, not enough? I don't really understand it."
Nodding, Alfred considered what Arthur had said. That could be seen as a good thing or a bad thing, depending on why his dosage was being raised, and how Arthur really would be able to cope with the side effects. He never truly understood why medication meant to help with panic attacks, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts could cause panic attacks, nightmares, and suicidal thoughts. Even temporarily. It just didn't seem like a good idea.
Before Alfred could figure out how to respond, the bell rang. Arthur handed his jacket to Alfred. "Here, go take off your jacket and put mine on. Wearing wet clothes is just going to make you more cold, and I'll be fine without mine. I'm sure Ms. Johnson won't mind you running a minute late." Alfred took a moment to eye Arthur's outfit, a tacky sweater vest and a pair of crisp khakis, and couldn't help but smile.
"Dude you look so nerdy it hurts. Like, after school today I need to go get a vision check because that argyle pattern may have permanently damaged the rods and cones in my eyes.:
Arthur scoffed, but muttered, "Better the rods in your eyes than another rod you have."
"Why do all the guys I know act like those creepy old men that stare at your ass as you walk by in gym locker rooms? No kinky shit in the halls, Artie." Alfred laughed and began to walk away.
Sputtering about manners and abstaining from vulgar language, public displays of affection, and inappropriate behavior, Arthur watched Alfred walk away,before he began to head to first period.
"Mathieu?"
Matthew looked up from the drawing he was working on and quickly closed his sketchbook, pushing his materials to the side of his desk. Francis walked into the class as if nothing had happened, perkiness and pride evident in his steps.
"Mathieu, I have a surprise for you." Smiling, Francis stopped in front of Matthew's workplace, ignoring the prying eyes of the students currently in the class, watching curiously from their own seats and stools scattered across the room.
Standing from his seat, Matthew looked Francis up and down. Then he looked behind him, at all of the students that seemed to be paying just as much, if not more attention to his conversation than he was himself. "Okay class, come on. Private conversation here. Focus on your assignments." A majority of the students looked away, or at least pretended to not be watching. Matthew sighed. "Yes, Francis? Does it have anything to do with you hijacking my car so that Alfred and I would have to walk to school in the middle of a storm? Or is it completely unrelated to that?"
Francis laughed awkwardly. "Actually, both? I took your car to get the air conditioning and heating fixed, since it was supposed to storm after school, but the storm came a little earlier than I expected it too. I probably should have given you both a ride, now that you mention it…"
Arms crossed and eyebrows raised, Matthew watched Francis stumble through his words, trying to explain himself. After waiting for a coherently formed sentence that never came, Matthew interrupted. "Francis, that was really nice of you, and I appreciate your intentions. But we have to have a talk when we don't have twenty-two high school students eavesdropping."
"Oui, oui, of course."
"Now get out of my classroom, because I may seem calm, but I am still very pissed off."
Francis nodded hurriedly, and began to go in for a kiss, before deciding against it. He wrapped Matthew up in a tight embrace before rushing out of the room, glancing behind him one last time before closing the door with a quiet 'click.'
Turning to his class, Matthew smiled brightly before asking, "Who here has Mr. Bonnefoy's class next period?" Two girls raised their hands. "I will give you each five points of extra credit if you put pins on his chair."
One of the girls, sitting in the front, spoke up. "But what's the point of that?"
"Well, how else are you supposed to let people know they're being a pain in the ass?"
Here he was again. Back in the infirmary, with not one, two, or even three sets of eyes watching him. Tino, sitting behind his desk with a somber expression, was trying to ignore the tension forming in the room. Matthew and Francis sat together on one cot, avoiding eye contact, while Alfred and Arthur sat on the cot adjacent, talking to each other in low voices.
After a few minutes of the continued awkward silence, Tino excused himself, leaving the three to sit alone in the nurse's office. Once they were alone, Matthew cleared his throat. Francis looked up, then at Matthew, before nodding.
"Alfred, I believe that I have to apologize for my actions the last few days. Burning your hand, the incident with the lunches, and this morning… I promise that I had good intentions. But I know that does not mean much, and that I hurt you regardless of what I meant to happen. If there is anything that I can do to help you, at any time, I would be happy to do so."
Alfred sighed. "I mean, the coffee wasn't really a big deal. The burn is healing pretty well too. And I'm not upset about this morning either, 'cuz you were just trying to do something nice. I've just been under a lot of stress lately and I know it sounds really lame but I'm not ready to deal with something like that yet. I still have a lot of foods that I can't have, and I'm not ready to cross those boundaries. And I know it's stupid but I get super anxious when I don't get to see the nutrition label. So with the food choices and the nutrition label gone, I don't know, it was just a really bad combination and it made a situation that I'm not able to handle."
"It may sound scary now, but it would probably be better for you if you did start to incorporate some of those foods into your diet, slowly, so that you have a more balanced way of eating." Arthur uttered. "You were talking about seeing a therapist again, but I'm really worried about you. Is that going to be enough?"
Matthew looked down before speaking. "I bumped up your appointment with your pediatrician Al, and she may recommend a treatment program, depending on how your evaluation goes." Alfred's gaze sharpened, his eyes widening, face displaying a mixture of fear and relief. "It's definitely not a guarantee. I don't want you to leave Al, I really don't. I just want you to be healthy and happy, and if that means you have to go away for a while, I'm willing to do that."
Alfred choked. "You're willing to, but did you ever ask me what I want to do? I don't want to leave. I don't want to go to a treatment center."
"Do you want even want recovery anymore, Al? Or do you want to die?" Matthew barked, his eyes being clouded by the forming tears.
There was another dreary silence. "I...I don't know Mattie."
