Perfection

Binge

   •This chapter is pretty long so please stick with it, you need to read this to understand the rest

America hovered over the toilet in a disgusting mess. He sat on his legs with his hand in front of his face. His hand was covered in his stomach fluid.

   Alfred looked at the liquid splattered in the bowl. It had a fowl smell and an ugly color, but Alfred didn't look so good himself. His cheeks were swollen as if he had an allergy of some sort, and his eyes were red and watery as if he's been crying for days.

   He got a bit closer to the toilet and abruptly forced his fingers down his swollen throat. He gagged and felt a stinging sensation. America closed his eyes as the liquid full of fat spewed out of his mouth. He felt a bit of relief until he opened his eyes. It was more than all the disgusting fatty food, but a dark crimson color made a design of sort in the fowl brown hue liquid.

   He widened his eyes, and a mix of surprise, grief, and happiness mixed within him. He was happy he's been doing it long enough to actually see blood, but he knew it was wrong. Despite the blood, he gagged himself until the gags had a hoarse, dry, and itchy feel to it.

   When his session was over, he scooted back against the wall and looked at the ceiling. How did it get like this?

   ~***~

   "Hello..?" America picked up his phone as he was about to go to the gym.

"Hello!~ So me and England planned a little thing!" America could almost feel France's excitement.

"What? What for?" America questioned.

"Well, we never do anything together so I decided we could...perhaps go out for dinner at a nice place?"

America felt his heart drop right when France said dinner. Alfred did not want to end his fast. He was doing so well, he couldn't end it here. America's weight has gone down quite a lot too, but not enough. He then thought to weigh himself after the call.

   "Hello..?" France spoke into the phone.

   "Oh! Uh, maybe some other time? I really don't feel like going."

   "No! You can't miss it! I was almost positive the America I know would want to go out to eat anytime, right?"

   "...I guess?" America hesitated.

   "Ok! Come at 5:30 at the usual!" France hung up before America could refuse.

America held the phone in front of him, and stared at it in anger and worry. He also noticed the time and it was 4:30 p.m already.

   Really?

   America felt a bit frustrated and tried to contemplate his plan. He obviously couldn't work out now, but he had his mind focused on more important things, like how to not break a fast.

   Maybe I can pretend I'm sick..?

   No, they know I'm not sick or I wouldn't be at the gym..

   Alfred closed his eyes and thought hard, but came up with nothing.

   I'll think of something when I get there. For now, let me weigh myself!