ART DECO | PHAN

five.

1/15/17
116.5 lbs.

dan howell sighed, walking a bit faster down the hall. he could feel phil following him, it was making his skin crawl.

by the end of the class he had been sweating rather heavily in his sweater, trembling. phil kept glancing at him, as if checking on him, but that just made it worse. he just needed to get to his room and be alone for a while. distract himself. but he couldn't shake him.

"hey," phil said finally, grabbing his sleeve. dan could have screamed. "do you want to... talk about our project?" the boy chewed on his lip. "i know it's a bit soon but i really care about my grades..."

"not really," dan answered honestly. he cared about his grades too, it was one of the only things he cared about, but right then he just wasn't in the mood. "c-can we meet some other time?"

phil nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly. "like when?"

dan shook his head, swallowing hard. he was on the verge of a full on panic attack, struggling to hide it.

"i d-don't know, any t-time, any other time..."

it felt like it took phil years to answer. "tomorrow? after classes, in the library?"

dan nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.

"perfect," he got out, before spinning and rushing off. he could hear phil calling after him and asking if he was okay, but he ignored it.

tears were blurring his vision which caused him to run directly into a girl. luckily he didn't weigh much, and she was left upright, a sour expression on her face.

"watch where you're going." she pushed her blond hair back behind her ear. dan didn't answer, just dodged around her and kept running.

he got all the way to his room, closing the door a bit too loudly. his roommate, sitting in a chair at the desk, gave him a weird look.

"i'm sorry," he breathed, nearly sobbing. "i'm s-sorry." he rushed to the bathroom, locking the door.

his chest hurt, everything hurt. why did everything hurt so bad?

most of all, his stomach hurt. usually he was fine, he was used to the feeling, but every now and then he got a painful wave of hunger. it made him nauseous, sometimes it just immobilized him. then again, that could just be his mind reacting to the situation.

dan sunk to the ground next to the cabinets, letting out choked sobs and tugging at his curly locks of coffee hair that was starting to get frizzy. he was so stupid, and ugly... he would never be loved, not like this. not when he weighed so much.

dan pulled up his shirt, jabbing at his stomach, where his ribs ended.

"this is because of you," he whispered, a soft hiss, his tone laced with venom. he sobbed again, turning and digging through the cabinet under the sink.

he didn't have many snacks around, but he had a few; things like fruit and granola bars and little packets of coffee that you only had to add hot water to. he stored all of them under the sink, so that when he wanted food in the middle of the night, he might see his appearance in the mirror and reconsider.

he took out a granola bar with shaking hands, tearing it in half and storing the rest for later. he ate it slowly, only in tiny nibbles, taking as long as he needed. he wasn't sure if his stomach was protesting or begging for more.

finally he finished it and stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. he sighed, shaking his head. his eyes were dark and a bit hollowed out, and so were his cheeks, although not quite enough to see at a glance. but all he saw was fat. that was all he was.

he tore his gaze away after making sure his eyes weren't too red, and emerged carefully.

his roommate, he thought his name might be andy or something of the sort, looked up when he came out. he stared at him for a moment, making a shiver crawl up dan's spine.

"i know you're starving yourself," he said finally, looking him directly in the eye. dan half froze. finally the boy just shook his head, looking away. "it's fucking weird."

dan let out a breath he had been holding, wrapping his arms around himself. it could have been worse... he had definitely been worse.

he made his way to his own bed, sitting down and taking a deep breath.

how many calories were in a granola bar? he had eaten about half... would it be accurate to divide the number in half, or would that be off? he used to have the calorie count memorized for about everything, but it was slipping away from him now.

maybe it was from lack of eating anything. if you didn't eat anything, calorie counts didn't matter.

dan bit his lip, slipping under the cover and taking out his phone to find some kind of thinspo. right before he drifted off, an insane thought came to him.

what would phil say if he could see him right then?