Bruised (Phan) [EDITING]

6

guys these random updates are just me editing lol

At dinner the girls sat separately from the boys. All the patients were eighteen or under, they all had some type of eating disorder, and they were all paired with who the doc thought best.

Dan anxiously awaited Pj. When the minty eyed boy got there and sat down next to him Dan couldn't help but feel guilty. "Did I offend you when I said you were difficult to read?" Pj raised his brows, it becoming a signature look for him, and gave a crooked smile. "Not at all, not at all. I just thought it ironic since you love to read but you can't seem to read me."

Then Phil sat next to Dan, besides Phil sat Chris laughing and smiling with the porcelain beauty. Dan clenched his fists under the table, a clear sign of jealousy that was obliviously ignored. Opposite of him sat Troye and Connor, they both talked quietly, naturally of course, and they really were a great pair. That's something the doc got right for once.

Then the trays were brought out, the agonizing trays that always seemed to be filled to the brim with food. In front of Dan was his own, the bulky nurse lifted the top and Dan swore he was going to be sick. The steam of grilled tilapia reached his nostrils and he felt nauseous.

Beside him he saw Phil look like he was about to vomit too, the beauty didn't like what he saw at all, a meal almost similar to Dan's.

After dinner Phil felt so disgustingly fat, the doc sat with them until nothing was left but crumbs and napkins. In his room, while Chris showered, Phil relentlessly did jumping jacks, push ups, sits up, endlessly until his head ached. He felt dizzy but his cold sweat wasn't enough. But then again nothing was ever enough.

No sleep tonight. Not sleeping burned more calories than sleeping. After Chris exited the bathroom he raised an eyebrow at Phil, a towel around his waist and on his head. Phil could see his questioning look. The doll only ignored him and instantly went to the shower, locking the door behind him.

Phil wanted the water scalding hot so he could sweat off the calories but the most it went to was warm. He groaned, a forehead to the tiled wall. A series of thoughts chewed at his mind.

Under one hundred.
Under one hundred.
Under one hundred.

Where were the scales in this bathroom? Where were any scales? Phil couldn't breathe, he mumbled to himself in the shower, this time the thoughts blurring to become words. The words becoming his reality.

Under one hundred.