6x featured | When his crush kills herself in front of him, Diego ends up back in time in order to confess his love for her. A second chance, a possibility to start their love story all over again. But will he be able to save her from the clutches o...
Trigger Warning for this particular Chapter: Body image issues, eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, self harm. The scenes in this chapter may get a bit descriptive but I have tried to make sure they're not detailed enough since I didn't want it to get too triggering, just in case. But in case you're finding it difficult to move ahead with this chapter due to these themes, feel free to skip this part.
User discretion advised. Take care <3
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Gathering all my lost courage, I wrapped my fingers around the cold handle and pushed the door to the girls' restroom open.
As soon as I stepped inside, a plethora of smell infiltrated my nostrils, not in a good way. The scent of liquid soap, phenyl and a slight whiff of vomit lurked around in the air and my instincts urged me to run away. If not for Lyra, never in my life would I have stepped inside a girls' bathroom, let alone being in the presence of such strong smells that could force you to pass out.
I went ahead and checked each stall, hoping I wouldn't accidentally encounter someone else in the restroom, though the chances were less since I was standing right outside for the past fifteen minutes and saw no one walk in. All stalls showed the 'vacant' sign and I wondered if I had missed Lyra leaving somehow.
Where the hell was Lyra?
I checked the window for escape, trying to open the hinge but it was locked, for obvious reasons. Somehow, it was as if I could feel Lyra's presence near me but I couldn't figure out where she was. A few seconds of silence later, I heard soft sobs echo in the closed room but Lyra was still nowhere to be seen.
Was she okay?
Reaching for the switchboard, I turned all the lights on and began looking for Lyra, only to find my own reflection staring at me in the mirror. By now, my legs had started shaking and the smell of vomit was making my stomach churn with unease. "Lyra?" I questioned out loud, to no one in particular.
That was when I noticed. A small movement under the sink. A gasp that came from right next to me. Ducking my head, I found Lyra hiding herself in the space under the huge line of basins. As if she was trying to escape — not from me but from herself. Her head was placed on her knees and by the way her body was shaking with each breath she took, I knew damn well that she was crying hard, barely holding herself together.
"Lyra?" I stepped closer to the basin and knelt on my knee. "Sweetheart, come out."
Her head still buried on her knees, she shook her head sideways. She was probably embarrassed after what I had just witnessed. Gently grabbing her by the elbow, I pulled her small frame outside the enclosed space. She tried to look up at me in shock because of how easily I pulled her but her eyes closed momentarily because of the bright lights outside.
"Hey, Lyra." I tried to hold her close but redacted my touch the next second, thinking it might make her feel uncomfortable. After a few moments of consideration, helplessly, I placed our bags near the sinks above and settled on the floor next to her. I hated how unhygienic bathroom floors were but it wasn't like I had any other option today.
