Troye Sivan
I'm woken up to a bed of breakfast and a note on my pillow.
'Feast on and take it easy today, I'll be home in two days.
-Bix.'
Having no way to contact him and no other choice, I shrug it off and eat bits of the different platters of food laid out for me. That day was spent obeying his orders, simply rolling around in bed all day thinking about all the things I could be doing. I call Sage at one point only to have my call declined. I leave her a voicemail saying that I miss and love her, sauntering back upstairs to my bedroom and sitting on the floor. It being around nine pm, I flick on the lights and stretch out my body.
I do a simple workout routine, working myself up a sweat and giving up once I'm out of breath. The rest of the night revolved around me beating myself up and sulking in self-pity about how weak I am. When I woke up the next morning it was to the humming housekeeper of Mr Bixenman's.
"Ah, you're awake." She pips, smiling at me through the mirror as she rearranges the clothes I always mix up in the dresser.
I nod slowly, sitting up and feeling my head spin a bit, "Good morning, Margret."
"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" She questions though she doesn't have to, always being one of the sweetest of women I've ever met.
I shrug, "Could've been better, but I'm not gonna complain. How did you sleep, dear?"
She blushes a bit, looking down and grinning.
"Just lovely, Troye, woke up to my beautiful husband cooking breakfast for me in the kitchen." She chirps, shutting the drawers and wiping a cloth over the top of the dresser.
I sigh, "Goals, Margret, goals."
She titters, "Yeah, he's pretty great."
When Mr Bixenman did come home, it was while I was back in the tub sulking in, you'd never guess, self-pity and doubt. And I was a bit too caught up in my own petty problems that I barely even realised when he walked into the washroom. He sits down on the toilet and looks up and down my body.
I simply stay still, staring ahead at my toes poking out of the water.
"What's wrong?" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the toilet seat, his suit crinkling a bit.
I crack a smile, "I've got this grand idea that I'm quite literally the most worthless bloke on earth and that I should kill myself so that's there's more room for others."
What I believe to be unbreakable silence fills the room, swirling around like the steam fogging up to the ceiling. That is until he breaks it.
"Well that's stupid."
I look over at the bloke with his brows scrunched together and jaw clenched to the point where it looks like it hurts.
"Hm?" I hum.
His attention snaps over to me, "That's stupid. We're all fucking worthless, doesn't mean we have to go."
I sink back a bit, my fingers fidgeting at my sides.
"I'm sorry," I immediately spiral down into a darker pit of insecurities and doubt.
"Mellet, what the hell is going on with you? Is this because I left for two days?" He inquires, quirking a brow up.
I bite on the inside of my cheek, shaking my head no and sitting up in the tub more.
"No, not at all, I'm just- I don't feel good about my body anymore." I admit, looking down at my excuse of skin and bones.
He sighs under his breath, "Sivan, your body is fine. You're working on it."
"But I don't feel like my body is fine anymore," I snap at him a bit, flushing and whispering a sorry seconds after.
"Is this because of the modelling and stuff? Are you comparing yourself to NEF's top models or something?"
No, It's Because Of What You Said.
"No, it's nothing. I'm just overreacting, I'm fine." I mutter and lean over the tub to grab a towel.
I pull the plug out of the tub and drain the water, standing up and wrapping the towel around my body. I step out of the tub and walk past him into the room.
"Are you sure? You're not acting fine." He points out, following me into the bedroom.
I sigh, needing to get away from him. He can't see me like this.
"I'm doing just great, just gotta- gotta go take my insulin!" I chirp and rush out of the room.
"Mellet! What the hell?"
He is hot on my heels as I pace down the stairs and into the downstairs washroom, locking the door shut behind me. I lean up against the door and sigh once more, sliding down to the floor and letting the towel hang loose at my sides.
"Mellet, don't think I won't knock this door down." He warns.
I don't take his threat to heart, listening to him sit down on the floor and sigh.
"Why are you so complicated?" He asks, bumping his head against the door.
I keep quiet, covering my mouth as a tear falls down my cheek.
"I don't know what I did wrong, I'm trying here." He adds.
When a small sniffle elicits from my shaking body, I freeze and pray to god he didn't hear.
"Fucking hell, Troye. I- what did I do wrong? Why are you crying?"
I hold back a cold laugh, "God, you're s-such a dick. Please j-just go already."
He scoffs, "No. I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're okay."
"So please, tell me what it is I've done wrong." He sighs.
Looking down at my fumbling hands, my lip quivers and head aches as I shrug.
"Words... and emotions. You're so insensitive to any and every emotion possible because you're so damn neutral." I admit.
"I am?" He asks, so oblivious. So, so oblivious.
"Yes."
"I try to be nice to you, I apologise if I upset you in any way." He murmurs.
He's trying, he is.
"Can you please try to talk to me like an actual human and not another businessman. Why do you- why is it so hard for you to talk to me?" I inquire.
A thick and tense silence fills the house.
"It's just how I've always been."
-
a/n: favourite song(s) off of halsey's album hopeless fountain kingdom aaaaand go:
YOU ARE READING
sued into submission 🌷 tracob
Fanfiction"troye sivan, you've been served." the man in a black coat says, handing me a folder. i clench my jaw, taking it. "all i did was spill a coffee on the bloke, it's not like i fucked his mother in hindsight."
