ahs drabbles

i love you endlessly | cordelia x reader

"Honey?" Hearing the word panicked you. You didn't think anyone would even be awake that early - certainly not Cordelia. Why would she be roaming the halls so early in the morning? Why hadn't the sink drowned out the sounds? You flushed the toilet and rinsed out your mouth, trying your hardest to not look as terrible as you felt. She knocked again and leaned her small frame against the door. "Honey, please let me in." You unlocked the door to worried eyes scanning the room, searching for answers. "Are you sick?" she asked next, her eyes scanning from the toilet seat to the stained towel on the sink. "No, I - no, I'm okay," you lied. "I thought maybe I needed to vomit, but I didn't, so." Cordelia's eyes locked on the vomit colored stain exposed on the towel. "Are you sure that you're feeling okay?" she asked. "Yeah," you answered cautiously. The worried expression didn't want to leave the older witch's face. She stepped forward to feel your forehead. "I'm fine," you said defensively. "I just want to see if you have a fever." You pulled back again, away from Cordelia's grasp. "I'm fine, Delia. I'm fine." The defensiveness caught her off guard, but she didn't really have a choice. She had to accept that, even if you'd been acting strangely.

Breakfast that morning went a little strange too. Something didn't sit well with Cordelia, but she couldn't obsess over that. She didn't want to air out your business, even if what happened at breakfast made the knots in her stomach a little worse. It didn't take much for the Supreme's wondering eyes to pick up on the little fact that you weren't eating. She noticed nearly everything. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she wouldn't embarrass you in front of the others. With each meal, she could tell you hadn't been consuming your food and had planned to confront you that night.

You'd been avoiding Delia all day and didn't know how much longer you could get away with it. Things had been going so well with your relationship and the guilt of lying to the girl that you really loved the most, maybe even the only girl you'd ever loved - killed you inside. The anxiety-filled you and sometime after you'd skipped dinner and before bedtime, you'd managed to sneak off to the kitchen. It started with a bagel. Then a piece of cake. That led to candy and baby carrots and chips and whatever you could get your hands on to fill the void. Anything that would help the guilt to subside. Bingeing only backfired, though. Your guilt for lying to Cordelia only turned into guilt over your appearance.

You stood in the bedroom, picking and pulling at your features, reminding yourself of all the parts you hated the most. You had to keep all of this a secret from Cordelia. If she learned what you were insecure about, wouldn't she see you that way too? Your thoughts had no choice but to come to an abrupt stop when she knocked gently and walked in. "I didn't see you in the library. Everything okay?" the Supreme asked. "Oh yeah, I snuck downstairs," you responded casually. "What were you looking for down there?" she questioned. "An apple," you lied. Cordelia didn't believe you but nodded anyway. "Let's go to bed. Sleep with me tonight?" she asked. Cordelia began undressing, feeling your eyes on her as she stood in her lingerie. You suddenly felt sick, thinking of all the food you'd consumed. "Love?" You reluctantly climbed into bed with Cordelia, knowing you needed to act as normal as possible. "I wanted to talk with you about something," Cordelia started to say. You tried to avoid her gaze, but knew you couldn't for long. "I - honey, I saw the stain on the towel, I noticed you wouldn't eat today," she started to say, hoping to word things in a way that wouldn't hurt or offend you. "What do you mean? I ate today," you retorted. "Not with everyone else." You huffed. "What stain?" Cordelia tensed a little. You hated when she did that, knowing that only happened during stressful situations. "The vomit stain on your bathroom towel this morning," she elaborated. "Now I don't want to upset you or accuse you, but I'm worried. I've been worried all day. You don't look good, you don't look like yourself." Unfortunately, your mind only heard 'you don't look good'. You blinked back the hurt tears in your eyes. "Maybe it's none of your business," you mumbled. "Maybe it is my business because I love you and don't want to see you hurting, especially in silence." You swallowed hard. She really didn't get it, did she? "You'd never even understand," you mumbled irritably. Cordelia watched you with concerned eyes. You knew in some way that you were being mean. "And for the record, I know that I don't look good," you muttered. The older witch extended her arm, placing a hand against your own arm. "Why would you say something like that? You always look good." You shrugged Cordelia away roughly, causing a hurt expression to come across the older woman's face. "What wouldn't I understand?" she questioned again. You still didn't want to tell her and wondered if you could get away with dropping the subject. Your gaze dropped to the blanket and a sick feeling settled within you. "God," you thought. All that food sickened you too. "I - I need to go to the bathroom," you suddenly stated. "There's one right here," Delia pointed out. "I mean, I need to go downstairs," you stuttered, standing quickly. With a simple raise of her hand, the Supreme shut and locked the door and tears began to well in your eyes. "What the hell is going on?" Cordelia asked, a little sternly. The worried look in her eyes only intensified with each peculiar statement and action. The tears only accumulated in your eyes, your throat closing up slightly at the entire situation you'd found yourself in. You could feel Cordelia's steady gaze and her watchful and concerned expression watching your own. You noticed your heartbeat thudding in your ears and could feel your blood pulsing through your veins at an alarming rate. You could almost taste the food coming back up your throat and did everything in your power to prevent that from happening. The lightest of touches grazed your hand's back and you knew you couldn't hold it in any longer.