teach me gently on how to breathe || tradley/brad

النهاية

"How do you feel?" Brad's mum questions, taking her son's bookbag from his hands and holding it for him instead.

The curly-haired boy runs a hand through his messy curls. "Better," he honestly replies.

"Looks like you need another haircut," his dad mentions.

"True." Brad's curls were cut six weeks ago, and it somehow crazily grew back once again. He doesn't really care about his hair at the moment, anyway. He can deal with it later.

"Ready?" his mum asks, like the nurse questioned the first time he was released from the medical center. But this time is different than before, because after a stressful six weeks, Brad's more than prepared to leave back to his friends and family, and it's fortunately noon instead of morning unlike last time.

The brown-eyed boy easily nods and pockets his hands. "I'm ready."

Brad never knew one day he'd actually appreciate the medical center. The first week, he was just depressed. Treatment was more difficult after becoming self-aware about his eating disorder. He'd look around at all the sick girls hospitalised with him, and his stomach would clench at the fact he's exactly like them. The first seven days, all he could do was cry. But once the eighth day hit, Brad was determined to get better. He was eager to eat his partials and eager to engage in group therapy and eager to just get better altogether.

It's not easy. Sometimes Brad was nervous he wouldn't be able to get any better. With each bite, there was still that little doubtful voice in his head, listing all the many reasons why he shouldn't want to do this, telling him that the medical center is brainwashing him. But Miss Lillian informed the teenager, during the third week, it's not going to be easy making it go away; although, it's defeatable. It's tempting to give up on eating altogether, especially when you're constantly reminded that with each bite you're going to be fat and repulsive, but Brad's trying his best not to let anything discourage him.

The sixteen-year-old will always have a strange relationship with food. He realises he doesn't hate food; he's not disgusted with it. He's obsessed with food, and he loves food, but he's terrified of food. He's afraid of food controlling him and he's afraid of what food can do to him. Doctor Hans, Natalie, and all her anorexia nervosa books were correct.

When Tristan returned to the hospital a day after Brad woke up from his unconscious state, the blond came inside the hospital room with an armful of the anorexia nervosa books his older sister bought him and all his bracelets. Brad finished nearly all of the books before morning, and brought the rest he didn't finish with him to the medical center. He wanted to be more informed of his eating disorder, and what type of mindset he should have when on the road to recovery.

Even though Brad feels great and he can eat without fear coursing throughout his body, he still doesn't think he's entirely better. He knows it'll be a long process. He knows there are still going to be emotional nights where he can't stop eating, and then he wants to purge; he knows there are going to be days where anorexia nervosa will slaughter him, making his recovery seems almost impossible and encouraging him to just give up and never eat again; he knows there are going to be days where he feels fat and ugly and like no one will ever love him, but he has prepared himself for it, and he's no longer going to let himself deal with his eating disorder alone. He has Tristan and James, and whenever he feels insecure, he thinks of Connor. He wants to get better for his friend, because he didn't have the chance to get better himself.

It's challenging. It's so challenging. But that's okay. Brad likes challenges.

The car ride to the house is chatty, his parents wanting to hear all about his stay, even though there's not much to tell. Somehow his hospitalisation is exciting enough to fill the whole forty-five minute drive to the house, and then they're slowly pulling into the driveway. The brown-eyed boy sucks in a breath and happily exhales at the sight of his house. Excitement flutters in his stomach. Finally, Brad thinks. He already knows the first thing he's going to do once he steps into his home: ring Tristan.