So, it would probably be easiest to explain Alfred's thought process here, but the good news was he had a solution and it'd only been 3 days.

The bad news was he was kind of stupid for taking 3 days to think it up, but in his defence thinking was hard. His stomach wouldn't stop hurting on the first day, but by the second he felt delightfully empty and by the third, he was sure his stomach had to have shrunk and he wanted to know just how long he could keep this up. How big of a number could he make this streak?

(His streak of not eating lasted 5 days and then they had another family dinner. Alfred had no choice but to break it then, but he wasn't too upset about it. He ate healthily and not excessively and he figured that if it kept his brothers off his back, then so be it.)

It was the only thing he ever thought about when he wasn't distracted by gaming or running around the blocks over and over, so by day three he finally had a solution. He didn't know much about how the body worked, because he kinda slacked in biology, but from his general knowledge that everyone had, he assumed he had the basics.

He figured the nutrients of food are absorbed through the stomach but not immediately. If food was healthy then it would have good nutrients that wouldn't make him fat. Sure, if he ate a lot of healthy food he would still put on weight so he would have to look out for that, but that wasn't the point. Bad and unhealthy food had bad nutrients that would definitely make him fat and ruin his skin and teeth and probably be bad for him in other ways that he didn't exactly know about - but he just knew it was bad and to be avoided at all costs.

So that meant he could majorly modify his current plan. He'd keep the exercise and go for runs whenever he felt compelled, but he'd scrap the dietary restrictions. He didn't want to miss out and if he couldn't resist yummy delicious food, then he wouldn't stop himself. As long as he ate everything bad within a short period of time and removed it before it started to digest, then it wouldn't be a problem, right?

Alfred thought that his idea was super smart and it really put a bounce in his step as pride took over. Once again, he was a genius and now he could go back to enjoying summer break! Because summer break was all about eating as much junk as possible, right?

Alfred realised his approach to getting in shape wasn't exactly conventional, but it was suited to him so he knew it would work, and he'd rather do what he was doing than become some kind of gym junkie that got up at 5 in the morning. Who got up early during summer break? Probably Arthur and only Arthur because his brother was weird and no way was Alfred doing the same, not when he liked sleeping so much. Plus when he was sleeping, it meant he wasn't eating so he couldn't give that up. And also because sleeping in was a staple for a good summer break so that too.

Anyway, Alfred wasn't delusional. He was just trying to do what worked for him and he knew he was lazy and he liked sleeping so there was no way he was getting up that early to go to a gym. Also, why the heck should he waste money at a gym when he could get himself in shape for free?! If he wasn't lazy he could get it done, all he had to do was stick to a routine and actually try hard, right?

Plus he was a little hesitant to let his family know about him working out. If he went to a gym, they'd notice and they'd comment. Alfred really didn't want their attention. He cringed at imagined scenarios of Arthur and Matthew finding out and it gave him the shivers.

So he just took measures to make sure they wouldn't find out and all was well.

So now that bad food was back on the table, Alfred had to be careful when he ate good food. He knew he needed good food and he wasn't going to evict that from his stomach. That needed to be digested, so he couldn't eat it within the same timeframe as bad food.

So now his schedule looked a little different. Regular free-for-all fix-yourself-a-meal dinner was just off the table. Alfred didn't need that much in when he didn't put that much out. Energy and effort-wise, that was. Even if he did exercise, he was still mostly a couch sloth. But since he couldn't get away with not eating family dinner, the event was now about eating a reasonable amount of healthy food, which to his annoyance caught Arthur's attention.

"I'm so glad you're finally serious about your health," Arthur said as he walked through the kitchen and saw what Alfred had on his plate. "Keep it up, I'm proud of you. It may just be the light but it looks like you've slimmed down a tad."

Alfred wanted to snap at the first comment but then found himself faltering at the second as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He couldn't help but feel... proud that someone was actually taking notice! That meant what he was doing was working! But it also left him feeling ashamed because it wasn't that Arthur was just noticing... it meant he knew before but didn't say anything. It didn't feel right to be grateful for it.

Alfred just told himself as long as he changed and didn't undo all his good work then no one had to be disappointed. No one. Because now people could see the difference he couldn't go back because then they'd see.

No pressure.

He'd have family dinner so the good food could be digested as he slept. It was good to have at least one reliable meal a week that wasn't too big but full of good stuff. Especially since the rest of the day before dinner was unscheduled.

Alfred may or may not have breakfast and lunch. It was entirely dependent on his mood and whether someone else was eating or not. Read: If Matthew was making food and Alfred could convince him to share, because Alfred was a scab and he just took and took. Other times he had nothing. But more often than not he would eat at the designated meal times, though only eating small healthy portions. It pained him knowing there were tastier options, but he did it. He could eat whatever he liked when he wasn't fat anymore but until then, it was a necessary sacrifice.

There were no morning or afternoon snacks either, especially if he wanted to digest whatever he just ate. If he ate something healthy then stupidly had something unhealthy, he just ruined everything and wasted whatever good he just had because he'd have to force it back up. Alfred could already imagine Arthur telling him off for wasting perfectly good food but nothing bad was staying in his body, no exceptions.

But if he didn't need to keep something down intentionally, and he really felt like a greasy burger or a shitton of salty loaded fries... he ate. He ate as much as he wanted without guilt. A whole block of chocolate? His! A whole tub of custard? Why not! If he felt like something, it was already in his mouth. It tasted so good he couldn't stop and why the fuck should he?

He understood that he only wanted to eat it to taste it, not to actually do the whole process of eating it and digesting it and putting on weight. So with that understanding, the catch was it wouldn't stay in his stomach.

It was genius, right?! He could eat whatever he wanted without gaining weight! How great was it?!

At first, it was a little awkward. He had to be responsible about the time he chose to throw it up. He couldn't do it when Arthur and Matthew were home because that would gross them out and make them comment and he just really didn't want the attention. Didn't that just sound like an oxymoron? Usually, Alfred liked attention... just now about this.

Doing it late at night was a possibility, but it put pressure on him to keep quiet. How embarrassing would it be if he got caught? It would be easy enough to talk out of the first few times by saying some dumb but believable and hard to disprove lies since he did have natural charisma. But he knew that he'd know what he was doing and have to carry the shame. He was confident he could talk his way out of anything but he really didn't want to get into that situation to begin with.

Alfred supposed if he didn't want to purge in the house he could always leave the house and go for a walk somewhere before sticking his fingers down his throat, but that idea was very unappealing. He liked the modern convenience of being about to wash out his mouth afterwards. Maybe he was just lazy for not bringing water with him, but he figured he could just do that as a last resort.

Whatever, that's irrelevant. Alfred decided that the best time to commit to his purging ritual was when nobody else was at home. Coincidentally, that's what he preferred for his binging too. He didn't want anyone to see how much he was eating and then suddenly be disappointed at how he was 'going back on his progress', despite Alfred knew he had a plan and he wasn't that fucking stupid to go back. The idea of eating anything 'bad' in front of someone suddenly became mortifying... Somehow knowing that people had noticed and liked how he lost weight really motivated him to keep going. This wasn't just about him anymore.

So whenever he ate too much food that he really didn't want in his body, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and kneel by the porcelain throne and purge.

He didn't abuse it. As it stood he'd only do it 3 - 4 times a week. It was summer break after all and he wanted to eat junk. He told himself that once school came back he wouldn't indulge his gross habits so often and hold back on the over-consumption of yummy food. Plus it wasn't exactly fun for him, clinging to the toilet with weak trembling limbs as pressure built up in his head and his stomach quivered. But he was more than willing to do it if it meant he could enjoy food without feeling so damn guilty. Purging was merely a tool. It wasn't like he was going to get addicted to it or anything. He didn't want to chance that anyone found out what he was doing.

It wasn't without close calls though.

Alfred was sitting on the couch, controller in hand and eyes focused on his screen. The living room curtains were drawn and the only light came from the video game he had been playing for the past couple of hours, though in Alfred's gaming opinion, it didn't feel like it had been that long.

Also, there was junk strewn all over the coffee table in front of him. Or rather - junk rubbish. Wrappers and empty boxes were illuminated by the low light, forgotten by the sole inhabitant of the room.

Alfred had only left the couch once to gather that feast about half an hour ago, and it was all gone now. Alfred was contentedly chewing on the last pieces of candy he had left as he spread out on the couch and sunk in.

But that aura of comfort evaporated once the front door opened. Alfred jolted up as a feeling of guilt rocked him and his heartbeat picked up. Shit.

The front door was only a short hallway away and Alfred paused the game as he tried to figure out who it was. Arthur was supposed to be at work and Matthew was supposed to be... somewhere that wasn't here. Alfred didn't want either of them here when he realised the massive mess he left behind.

Shit.

No one was supposed to be home for a couple more hours! That's why Alfred chose to feast now and now how was he supposed to throw it up without being caught!

The candy was too chewy in his mouth and sticking his teeth together. He worked his tongue to get it off before forcibly swallowing it only for it to feel like a lump stuck in his throat. He refrained from coughing to try and adjust it because the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself! Whoever was here would walk in here and see what he was doing and be disgusted-

"Ow," came a soft voice after something hit the hallway wall. "Alfred? Are you home?"

It was Matthew. Alfred jumped up and ran to the living room entrance to try and block his brother's view of the room.

"Yep! What's up, Mattie?" Alfred stood with one arm leaning on each side of the door.

"It's so dark in here I can't see."

Alfred could see Matthew perfectly fine and his brother was blinking his eyes a lot, trying to adjust.

"Arthur would want you to open the curtains, you know."

"Yeah yeah, I'll do it in a sec," Alfred said as he pursed his lips and tried to think of either more conversation or a way to make Matthew disappear.

"Okay, good. I'm going to go make dinner now..."

"Now?" Alfred questioned, also questioning his own time perception. "Isn't it early to be making dinner?"

Alfred didn't know why he always spoke without thinking. Matthew had just given himself an out and Alfred didn't let him take it.

"Figured I'd just do it now for later, eh?" Matthew shrugged. "Did you want me to double what I'm making or did you have plans already?"

Matthew only ever asked the 'or' part to be polite. That question was one with an answer that never changed. Alfred was supposed to say 'hell yeah' because he was lazy and loved food. But now he just felt so guilty for it that his tongue actually hesitated.

"Of course, I'll eat whatever you cook! Your cooking's awesome dude," Alfred said, but the moment he said it he was suddenly hyperaware of the food in his own stomach and the void he was used to down there suddenly felt too heavy for comfort.

Fuck. Alfred forgot about the timer. He needed to throw up soon before all the shit he ate started to digest and it was too late.

But he still couldn't help himself and his big mouth.

"It's gonna be healthy though, right?"

What? He needed to know!

Matthew's expression changed minutely and Alfred just knew what he was thinking. 'Why does it matter to you?'

"Cus Arthur wants me to be eating healthy for some reason and I figured it'll keep him happy, y'know?" Alfred mentally thanked Arthur for being such a good excuse.

"Yeah, it'll be healthy," Matthew said, sounding a little off. "But why don't you just eat in your room so he doesn't see, eh?"

The timer was ticking and it was all he could think about. Alfred could feel his mouth start to water with the taste of needing to throw up. It had crept up on him just like the urge of needed to pee. He needed to throw up soon and he could chat with Matthew all he wanted after but right now he needed to get this crap out of his stomach!

"Yeah, maybe I should do that, sounds good," Alfred said cheerfully. "I'm gonna go for a walk now and touch some grass so I'll be back later, okay?"

He didn't leave any room for Matthew to say anything back as Alfred darted to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. There was no doing what he needed to while Matthew was home, far too risky when the kitchen was just down the hall from the bathroom and there would be questions of 'you okay?' that Alfred just felt uncomfortably warm thinking about.

Alfred turned to go back but Matthew was already in the kitchen doorway, making Alfred awkwardly sidestep him as he continued running down the hallway and outside. It was hot and bright and Alfred had to shield his eyes because now it was his turn to adjust. The minute it didn't burn to squint he started jogging, upping his pace to a sprint as his impatient mouth was watering with an urging sign of vomit. A couple of blocks from his mouth he couldn't take it.

It was like he had trained himself to feel sick but he had yet to achieve that last step of doing it on command. Alfred knew he wanted to throw up, his mind and body knew it, but he still had to make it happen. So he dropped to his knees behind a tree on a shortcut footpath hidden between fences offering him some privacy as he stuck his fingers far into his throat, wincing as his nails dragged against the soft skin. The effect was immediate.

Alfred heaved once the reflex was triggered, heaving with only a few seconds of reprieve to catch his breath before his body was heaving some more. His neck was bent far forward as he curled up into himself involuntarily and dug a hand into the ground for stability. He didn't even bother wiping his mouth until long after the last heave and he was just trying to spit out all that remained.

It was a bad purge. Alfred had learnt early on that sometimes throwing up was good, okay, and sometimes it was bad. This was bad. Fucking great.

Still better than getting fat though and he really did enjoy eating all of that shit food.

A good purge was just bending over, heaving once or twice and it all came out clean. The throat didn't hurt and the airway and mouth were clear, allowing Alfred to just go about his day without lingering tastes or feelings. But throwing up like that was never predictable and kinda rare.

An okay purge was just your average throwing up. Alfred's throat would hurt after but it wasn't anything some water could fix. He might spend a couple of moments spluttering to clean his mouth but eventually, he'd get it all out. Then he'd wash is mouth out and forget about how sore his throat was after an hour. He only rolled an okay purge maybe a quarter of the time.

Then there was bad purging... one that happened the most often and was always awful. Alfred still reasoned it was worth it though. Even with little rocks digging into his knees as he knelt, he was still trying to catch his breath without lurching and hurling again from the taste or chunks he hadn't removed from his mouth. He had to remind himself he was mentally strong enough to ignore the chunks and their taste and texture-

Then he was dry hurling. His stomach had been emptied but with each reflex he felt more and more of what was left in his mouth, triggering the reflex again. All he could do was try to spit everything out and regain control of himself.

Even with nothing left to hurl and his mouth finally clear of the disgusting texture, Alfred was still hunched over with his mouth hanging over because now everything was too clogged up to breathe from and he was seriously regretting not at least thinking of bringing a tissue. Usually when he had a bad purge the toilet paper was hanging right there for him to utilise but without it...

"Oh fuck this," Alfred whimpered as he tried to uncap the water bottle with twitching fingers. His voice was raspy but he didn't have the guts to clear it when his throat felt so slimy. If he cleared it and more bad texture came up... he shuddered.

After rinsing his mouth out with water and gargling a few times he finally risked drinking some and he cringed as it went down. He gasped for breath after and wiped at his mouth with his arm as he stood up. Maybe he stood up a little fast because he felt a slight spin, but he just swallowed more water as he staggered backwards to start walking home.

His stomach had finally just settled and his throat was starting to feel tolerable as he stepped back inside the house. Immediately he had to blink because Matthew was right, it was dark in here. If Alfred didn't have to feel his way back into the living room he wouldn't totally forgot about opening the curtains like he promised.

But once the curtains were opened, he realised what else he had forgotten. He'd been forgetting a lot of things lately,

"Fuck," he muttered as his stomach dropped, then cleared his throat again. It still felt weird, but maybe after he ate something it would go away. Good thing Matthew was cooking but Alfred couldn't help the paranoia that it was a bad thing Matthew was home.

Because, what if he had seen the evidence that Alfred had forgotten to clean off the coffee table? It was a huge pile too and Alfred could feel a warm wave flush through his and burn his face. He needed a plan and step one was getting rid of that shit.

As quickly as he could he gathered it all and ran outside with it. He glanced around, saw the outside bin and all he could think was perfect. He dumped it all in there where no one would find it... unless someone else took out trash, then one of his brothers would definitely see it and think it was weird. That made Alfred pause with a sigh. But then he had a better idea.

He gathered the trash again and this time, he dumped it into a neighbor's bin and dusted off his hands with pride once it was done.

"Am I a genius or what? Not I just gotta figure out what Mattie knows."

Alfred really hoped that Matthew had just stuck to doing what he said he was going to do and even if Matthew was literally his twin brother therefore hypothetically the closest person who'll ever get to him, Alfred somehow didn't want Matthew to think bad of him. The cogs were turning in Alfred's mind as he thought about how he could pry into figuring out what Matthew knew as he walked back to the house... just in time for a car to pull up.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked gruffly when Arthur stepped out of the car.

"Returning home after work, is that alright?" Arthur cocked his head. "I need to go shopping sometime, do you think this fridge just fills itself?"

"Geez, sorry." Alfred crossed his arms before rethinking the situation. "Did you want me to help carry it in?"

Alfred felt just a little bit bad about questioning his brother, especially when his brother snapped back like that in a tone of exasperation. At least if he did a small thing for Arthur then he can't be that bad and Arthur can't complain.

Plus it would mean that Alfred would get to the kitchen first and talk to Matthew without Arthur figuring out that something was up.

"I haven't gone shopping yet," Arthur sighed. "But thank you. Now, what were you doing? Why are your pants all dirty?"

"I was just going for a walk," Alfred replied. "And now I'm done so I'm just gonna go in..."

"Alright, I know it's summer break and it's fine when you're inside but if you're going to go out you should at least take some pride in your appearance," Arthur said lightly, kind of matter-of-factly in his usual superior tone of wannabe authority he thought he had as an older brother. It just made Alfred sigh and roll his eyes.

"Aren't you just glad I went on a walk at all, instead of being lazy like you always think I am? Also, for my pants to get dirty like this, I'd have to go outside I'm not getting dirty inside!"

"You know what I mean," Arthur waved a hand dismissively and turned his focus to the small garden at the front of the house. "But yes, I'm proud. At least you got some sun today, I suppose. You could use it or you risk becoming as pale as you say I am."

Alfred went to reply, but when he noticed how consumed his brother was in inspecting the flowers... he was struck with the thought that he needed to act. This was his window to interrogate Matthew.

"Okay, yep," Alfred said with finality then he walked inside and went straight to the kitchen.

"Hey, Mattie, how's it going?"

"Fine," Matthew replied, almost questioningly with a glance away from what he was working on. "What are you doing?"

The question was just asked to reciprocate and so Alfred ignored it.

"Have you been in here this whole time?"

"Yeah?" Matthew just looked apprehensive, like he could tell this was being asked for a reason but couldn't comprehend Alfred's motive at all.

"So since I left you've just stayed in here, cooking?" Alfred pressed.

"You left?"

"I just went on a walk," Alfred could feel his annoyance building because did he really have to explain himself to everyone? Couldn't Matthew just answer his question? "So you haven't left the kitchen since?"

"Okay..." Matthew turned away from his brother and put his focus back on making his dinner, giving Alfred the impression that Matthew was trying to tolerate him. "Are you trying to ask me if I touched your game?"

Oh, he could've gone that route.

"Yeah, you didn't go in there, did you?"

"No I didn't," Matthew said, his tone a little hard. "I didn't go in there. I didn't touch your game. If you thought that, why didn't you just ask that to begin with?"

Alfred internally fistpumped but couldn't hide the smile that broke out. Good thing Matthew wasn't looking his way, but from his movements, Alfred could tell his brother was annoyed. With Alfred.

"Why don't you go ask Arthur?" Matthew sighed as he dumped some of his cooking dishes unnecessarily hard in the sink.

The relief that Alfred felt about Matthew not seeing his shame faded when he thought about how Alfred kinda bit the hand that fed him and now he felt bad that he was going to accept food that Matthew made after he annoyed him. The smile completely fell off of his face when he thought about how all he did was take, huh?

"Alright, cool," Alfred stepped back and lingered in the doorway. "Thanks."

Arthur right slipped by him, giving Alfred a mini-heart attack.

"Matthew, I'm going shopping soon, are you going to join me?"

"Yeah, just let me finish with this." Matthew's tone was completely devoid, a telltale sign of annoyance but trying to restrain it.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed and he sat his hands on his hips.

"Everything alright, Matthew? It seems like you're bottling something up."

"It's really nothing, I'm just trying to finish this."

Arthur pursed his lips, but instead of pressing, he turned to Alfred with an accusative look. Alfred just glanced away. It wasn't like he did anything but he knew it was his fault anyway.

"When I'm done with this I'll come," Matthew looked over his shoulder when the silence dragged on. "Give me five minutes."

"Okay," Arthur, always uptight, noted the watch on his wrist. "Five exactly."

Knowing Matthew's estimate would've been accurate, Arthur turned to leave and Alfred found his mouth moving.

"Wait, aren't you gonna as if I wanna come too?"

"You've never wanted to help shop before," Arthur stopped, eyebrow raised. "But I suppose I can ask if it'll make you feel included. But don't just say yes just so you can talk me into buying more snacks. I'm on a tight budget, you know."

"You'll find it boring and complain the entire time," Matthew stated. "Why don't you get back to your game?"

Alfred knew it wasn't a jab and from his brother's tone it was like Matthew thought he was doing him a favour by saying it how it was... but Alfred still couldn't help the icky feeling inside him. Maybe he really annoyed Matthew and his brother didn't want him to crash their shopping trip where he'd have to put up with Alfred there too.

"You have my full permission to just go back to playing your game- yes I noticed you had it set up," Arthur frowned. "Do I want to know how long you've been playing that today?"

"All day," Matthew reported very matter-of-factly. Now Alfred really was starting to get annoyed at the whole exchange then felt worse for getting annoyed. He wasn't even annoyed! The feeling inside him was just all-consuming and made him want to either punch a wall or punch himself. He just wanted to just punch because there was something inside him that needed to do something.

But he couldn't because Matthew wasn't in the wrong. He wasn't snitching on Alfred and even if he was, Alfred shouldn't be on his fatass all day like some kind of basement dweller that had no place in society. He did not want his family to think he was a loser.

"Once summer break ends, I'll be taking all the batteries in the house so you can't play," Arthur added. Alfred couldn't help his tone.

"Geez, control freak much. I wasn't playing that long anyway and I went outside!"

"As you should!" Arthur's tone became more brash to match Alfred's. "It's summer. You used to love summer as a child."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not a child anymore." Alfred didn't even feel like talking to them another so he just walked out to hole himself up in his room.

"I'll take that as you're not coming then," Arthur said from the other side of the door.

"No, you guys have fun without me," Alfred said bitterly. The door didn't have a lock so he put a chair under the handle before crossing his arms with a scowl.

Arthur made a noise of exasperation and Alfred could picture his brother throwing his hands up.

"Alright, suit yourself," Arthur muttered before Alfred heard footsteps leaving. Good.

But he didn't feel so smug anymore. He ran a hand through his hair before ripping his jacket off and ditching it on the bed. There was only one thing he could do to try and make himself feel better.

Alfred started working out and he didn't stop once he heard his brother's leave. Alfred figured that with them gone, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to exercise as much as he could until he was out of breath and then kept on going.

It was only when he heard a car pull up in the driveway did Alfred let himself stop. His legs ached and he was heaving for breath as he used his shirt to wipe at his face. He was sweating and it felt satisfying. Sweat meant losing weight, right? That he was burning it off and it was working.

The room was spinning and Alfred's knee buckled as he crashed onto the floor by his bed and grappled at the covers. He felt like Cinderella when she was crying on that bench except he wasn't crying and despite the extreme lightheadedness, he was satisfied. The exhaustion had to mean something and it felt like progress.

Once the dizziness had calmed down enough for Alfred to pull himself properly on his bed and tolerate staring at a screen, Alfred was back to doom scrolling when someone knocked on his door. Suddenly Alfred realised exactly what it looked like - that he had been on his phone the whole time! He quickly sat up and shoved his phone in his pocket, or tried to. When he forced himself upright there was a brief moment of an overwhelming disconnected feeling, like a drop on a roller coaster that made his body sway. He dropped his phone on the ground as his head lurched forward, only just catching himself with his hands digging into his knees.

"-your half's in the fridge."

Oh, it was Matthew. Alfred's hearing must've temporarily gone too because he didn't hear him come in. His brother was holding a plate and picking off it with a fork and Alfred pieced the rest together.

"Thanks, bro, you're the best."

It was all lip service. Not the part about his brother being the best, because no, Alfred meant that. But that made him feel all the more guilty about not meaning the other part. Matthew had cooked for him and Alfred wasn't even thankful. If anything, it felt like an obligation now.

Usually, he was thankful, genuinely thankful. This arrangement happened more often than not but not so much recently... Alfred hadn't been seeking out the spoils of his brother's talents so often.

"You dropped your phone," Matthew pointed with his fork as his mouth twitched with amusement. "Did I scare you, eh?"

Matthew was chatty now and Alfred knew that his twin felt bad for being a bit moody before. Matthew was always like that, even if he had a valid reason to be moody. Alfred was valid reason enough.

"No," Alfred said as he picked it up. "Hey, sorry for the whole thing about the game. I don't know why I cared so much..."

"It's fine," Matthew said, earnestly. "I was just annoyed that you assumed I'd do something like that. And it was annoying how you were trying to be indirect with asking. I wish people just communicated what they wanted without mind games..."

"Oh, so you weren't really annoyed that I was being annoying and distracting you?"

"You are annoying, but you could've been more distracting," Matthew remarked. "Besides, I've made this before, eh? It's not that hard... but it wasn't really working out like the last time I made it so maybe that annoyed me too."

"Oh," Alfred didn't have a lot to say. To be honest the smell of the food was starting to make him feel weird in his stomach. Like worry.

"Yeah, sorry about before, I was just tired," Matthew added. "I don't want you and Arthur to think I'm bottling anything up."

Considering Arthur and Matthew shared an introverted and reserved nature, Arthur was always on Matthew's ass about not shutting down if he got angsty. But when Alfred got angsty and upset, he was a problem for everyone...

Maybe his brothers would prefer if he bottled things up. Alfred knew that he could get loud and abrasive when something was bothering him so it would probably be less for Arthur to deal with that way and his older brother wouldn't complain about him that often if he was more considerate.

"Okay, that's good then- well, not the tired part, but y'know."

Matthew nodded and the conversation lulled.

"Okay, I'm going to go watch hockey now," Matthew said as he went to leave. "You're doing the dishes."

Yeah, that was fair and not unexpected. Matthew cooked and Alfred cleaned. He found satisfaction in it so it wasn't too much of a chore... unless Arthur demanded it of him.

"Gotcha bro," Alfred confirmed as Matthew shut his door.

Now with Matthew gone, all that was left was for Alfred to stand up, walk to the fridge, and get his dinner. Yet it was all too easy to keep sitting there as a wave of intimidation settled. He had to get it and put it in his mouth, chew, and swallow. There was no claiming that he wasn't hungry and he sure as fuck wasn't going to throw it up when Matthew cooked it. But Matthew said it was healthy, so hopefully Alfred wouldn't feel too bad about digesting it.

Still, when he left his bedroom he found himself heading for the bathroom instead. Habit took over as he shut and locked the door before standing on the scales. His eyes bored into the reading as he memorised it and it was burnt into his retinas.

It was better than last week, but still not good enough. Alfred should stop weighing himself but he just couldn't. Every time he did an exercise that took his breath away and made his shirt uncomfortably soggy with sweat, he couldn't ignore the compulsion to weigh himself and see just how much he had lost. It was never much, but he still did it religiously.

Now there was nothing standing between him and his obligation to eat. Alfred went to the fridge and pulled out the plate of some recipe he didn't recognise beyond some echo of gratitude that it wasn't Arthur's cooking. Alfred just hoped that if he had to eat it, it wouldn't taste weird. Matthew liked trying a lot of new recipes and a few of them were French. Luckily Alfred hadn't seen his brother cook up snails yet- Actually, unluckily because that would be the perfect excuse for a permanent lack of appetite.

As Alfred shut the fridge, he weighed the plate in his hand. It was as heavy as it looked and Alfred could feel his face pulling tight as he stared down and the heap covering the plate.

Great. It was a lot. More than he'd serve himself. Alfred had to question just how much Matthew thought he ate to have served that up for him. That made Alfred's mouth turn down as he put the plate on the kitchen table.

"He did say half," Alfred muttered with a sigh as he played devil's advocate. Maybe Matthew just gave him the bigger half..? Because he was bigger...

But that was never how Matthew was generous. His brother was generous and that was evident in sharing the food. There was no bigger half.

"What the fuck? Mattie, does that mean you eat this much regularly? The fuck?"

And somehow he was less chunky than Alfred. It wasn't fair.

Another compulsion came to him. Alfred had to know how much Matthew weighed. Needed to know because if Matthew was his ideal self then Alfred needed a baseline to compare himself to and whatever Matthew weighed was hypothetically achievable for Alfred. Now he just needed to think of a way to ask or somehow find out how much Matthew weighed without being weird about it. Fuck.

Thoughts were flying around and Alfred was just trying to make sense of it and rationalize it because if Matthew ate this much for dinner every night then surely he just metabolized better somehow! Matthew was always eating whatever he cooked and somehow he wasn't gross like Alfred!

It wasn't fair. Alfred bit the inside of his cheek as he dug his fingers into his thigh. Why did Alfred have to get stuck with a sucky body and Matthew got the better one.

Alfred ate dinner, all alone in his room. He did think about disposing of some of it so Matthew wouldn't find out it wasn't eaten, but Alfred felt too bad about that, especially when he already bothered Matthew so much today. So he sat there, miserable as every bite after bite took forever to get down and all he could think about was that scale number going up.

When the plate was clean he left it in the kitchen and locked himself in the bathroom. The number had gone up and there was nothing Alfred could do about it. Well, besides work out some more and cut a meal tomorrow. But even with those optimistic easy solutions, he wasn't in the mood for it.

Instead, he stumbled until he was sitting on the toilet with his head in his hands, pulling at his hair as he lamented being stuck in this body. Why, out of all the people he could be, did he have to be him? Why couldn't he just be normal? Why did he have to have this fat body that loved food way too much?