they’re both silent.
regulus came out on the porch with james with a small plate of food that james won’t take.
this isn't the first time this has happened. james never knew what to say to regulus to explain before. Regulus didn't understand that, so instead they didn’t say anything at all.
although now it’s different. because now regulus knows why, and that its something to talk about.
“how did you get away with it for so long? i mean, you’re not exactly the quietest.” regulus spoke breaking the silence.
james lets out a sad almost laugh-like noise, “If you make enough noise, people tend to overlook everything else.
“I was always so loud. It was a way to distract from the truth, to keep people from noticing. i think...If I went silent, they would see how my obsession with food had consumed me, how every thought and action revolved around weight. But I couldn't last hiding it. Eventually, my body betrayed me, and even if the weight melted away until I was nothing but skin and bones I clung to the noise. It was a shield, a mask. As the weight decreased and my will to live diminished, my thoughts became a war zone. And all the while, I could feel the eyes of those around me, watching, judging, pitying. I was a contradiction, a loud shell with a fragile and broken core. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the truth. So I clung to the noise, to the chaos, to anything that would keep me from facing the reality of my own body and mind.”
they stayed in silence, gazing at the dark street. until regulus finally spoke again, “ you know, i miss you.”
james looked at him, “reg....i’m right here.”
“james, you haven’t been here for a long time,”
“im sorry. i know i should want to get better but I but I don't. i don't want to be like -that- again...i don't want to gain weight again.” james shook with a sob
regulus was silent
they’re still staring at the street again listening to crickets and the hum of passing cars
regulus’ minding is racing with concern while James’ is racing full of guilt. guilt for eating, guilt for not eating, guilt for hiding and lying about it. guilt for not wanting to get better. but most of all guilt for how he hurt regulus.
“i know that's not what you want to hear.”
it’s silent for a beat.
“james..”
“i think i loved you. i think I could have loved you. but I cant love -this- you. i cant love you if you cant try to get better. i just cant.”
when james finally does look at regulus,
regulus grabs the plate brought out, and walks inside.
james waits to hear regulus' bed room door click.
he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pocket knife he got from his father when he was eight.
~brief flashback~
fleamont and 8yo James in their yard
"james, I want you to have this" fleamont said putting the knife in james' hand, "let it be a tool that always helps you see things through. use it well"
~end of flashback~
james' opened the blade and pressed it to his wrist
it’s so fucking good.
he doesn’t realize how deep he's gone until his vision goes white and blurry
he doesn't stop
he doesn't stop as the blood rolls out
he doesn't stop until he realizes the mess he's made on the porch
he gets up and begins to clean up the pool of blood. when he's done he heads inside.
his stomach feels like its on fire
his wrists ache and burn
but it feels fucking euphoric