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It's been a week of torture. What I first thought was a great idea turns out to be complete and utter torture. After that talk with Ashton that night of watching The Conjuring, it reset something in my mind. Something sick, something twisted... something addicting.

I can tell all three of the boys are worrying about me, it's obvious when I catch them staring at me. They don't say anything though, except for Ashton. For as much of a worrier as he is, he isn't fully laying his full worries on me. I can tell because he has the same worried glances as Cal and Michael. But he's still asking what I need from him to help. He can see me slipping into old habits again, they all can.

Everyone can except for my new nutritionalist and therapist. The only thing they have is a piece of paper explaining my history of my eating disorder, and a list of food and weight logs.

I don't like either of them. Don't get me wrong, they're incredibly nice and sweet, but... they've just caught me at a very defensive time. Not the first best impression. I can tell I'm not myself and I think that's obvious to them too. Good news is that I've gained less than half a kilogram this week, or as my nutritionalist said, one pound. The nutritionalist doesn't like this, as I'm suppose to be gaining two pounds each weeks, and asks how everything is going. I tell him that's what I usually talk to my therapist about, and I don't open up anymore after that.

My parents call a little later that day worried, and I honestly can not tell who tipped them off about my old habits returning.

"Luke, it's only been a week and you're going back to your disordered thoughts," my mom says quietly, like she's afraid she'll upset me.

And upset me she does.

"I am not!" I raise my voice, not too loud but loud enough to try and get through to her that I'm fine!

"Explain why you aren't eating as much then," she says in a stern voice. I can imagine her saying Two can play at that game, Luke.

"If I told you, you'd just tell me that I'm being stupid or something along those lines," I huff.

"Luke," she says softly, with much more sympathy in her voice, "I would not, you know I would never. I always try to understand you as best as I can."

Her words fight through the torturous vines wrapped around my thoughts and touch my heart. It breaks me a little.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rude."

"It's okay sweetie. Can you explain to me what's going on?"

I sigh, and find myself standing up from my bed. I walk down the hallway in my long sleeved shirt and sweat pants, and make my way to Ashton's room. He did say to never mind waking him up.

"Hold on Mom," I tell her. Then I shake Ashton awake. It's 2AM here in California, but over there in Australia it's 7PM.

"Is everything alright?" he asks me, and usually I hate that question, but I can't deny that something's wrong tonight.

"Just talking to my mom and wanted your support, it's probably stupid, I shouldn't have woken you up. You can go back to sl-"

"It's okay Luke," he says through a yawn, wiping his eyes of sleep. He flips the covers open and pats the space next to him. I easily roll into the empty area and feel his arm come around me in comfort.

"Thank you," I whisper to him. He responds with a kiss to my temple.

"Hi Mom, where were we?"

"You were going to tell me why you haven't been eating as much," she gently reminds me, but I tense up anyways. Ashton rubs comforting motions into my back with his hand and it gives me the courage to continue.

"It's not going to make sense to you, but I don't think I need to gain any more weight."

"Why do you think that?" she asks simply.

Because I'm fucking fat enough? Why else do you think? I keep my thought to myself, knowing it won't make the situation any better.

"Because I'm finally at a healthy weight and I don't think I need to gain anymore," I reply in the same simple manner my mom asked her question in.

"But you're at the lowest end of being healthy, it would be very easy to dip back into being unhealthy. Don't you think it's a good idea to gain a little more weight in case that does happen?"

She's being logical, I can tell, but all I can hear in my mind is no no no, you need to be small again. I rub my head with the hand that's not holding the phone, and I instantly regret it because Ashton is watching me, and he knows I do that when my thoughts are battling against each other.

Why do I regret it though? I should be open with him. Why am I trying so hard to hide this from everyone?

"I guess you're right Mom," I lie to her, and it hurts my heart, "I'll try harder." I hear a sigh of relief over the phone.

"Do your best sweetie, you know we're all here for you, even if we aren't next to you," she says sweetly.

"Thanks Mom, but it's two in the morning here. I think I'm gonna go to sleep."

She wishes me a good night and I hang up the phone with a deep sigh.

I turn to Ashton and his frown of worry turns into a cheery smile, as he still rubs comforting motions into my back. I snuggle next to him, and he engulfs me in his arms. He smells so good.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asks carefully. He and I both know I hate being asked "Are you okay?" when things obviously aren't.

But my mind won't let me speak my horrible thoughts.

"No, nothing. I just want to sleep."

"Want to sleep in here tonight?" he asks me.

It would be the first time that we've slept in the same bed. Well, as a couple. We've done it plenty of times before as friends during nights where we'd stay at each other's house.

But I really need the comfort, so I find myself nodding my head, and snuggling even farther into him.

It's easy to fall asleep that night, even with the treacherous thoughts plaguing my mind.

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