The Black Swan | Reposted

Chapter 57 - Intimacy

We stayed at the cemetery for so long, but I felt like Harry cut the time short I was there. I felt bad for that, but at the same time I completely understood. I think bringing me there was unexpected, and overwhelming to say the least. He was sitting in the front seat, gripping the wheel of his car. He seemed so uncomfortable, with an edge of worry to him.

"Don't lie when I ask you this question." I nodded. "If I bring you home, are you going to eat?"

"Something small," I answered softly, truthfully.

"Odette... I need you to eat. I need you to eat like normal."

"Why?"

"I get the pressure of it all." He rubbed his temple, almost like... it was his own burden? "I went into rehab for it after Russia.' He whispered, almost shamefully.

"W-What?"

"I'm not talking about. I just don't want you to get caught in it."

"No, we're going to talk about it."

"Over dinner then."

"Absolutely."

He turned the car to life and we drove to a restaurant in the city. He ordered me a massive meal of chicken, rice, and broccoli. He got a steak with other trimmings and his hands were laced tightly together on the table, not looking.

"Talk." I said gently. "How old were you?"

"Old enough to know better."

"Russia?" When he nodded I knew that to have been within the past few years.

"It's... very intense over there. It was a very rough period in my life."

"Tell me what happened?" I reached across the table and held his hands, lacing one with mine. He stiffened and swallowed.

"Nothing. I needed to maintain my weight. They wanted the men to be strong, but they wanted my body to be lean at the same time. I was binge eating to put on muscle, to get the calories, but then I just... started doing things I regret."

"Binge and purge?"

He nodded. "Women in dance companies feel the blunt of the pressure to be thin, that's very true because men need to be strong for lifts. But once I started binge eating to put weight on, I really liked how it made me feel. I liked that... fullness, you know? Then I didn't like it so when I would throw up it felt... empty again, and then I'd take control on when I wanted to feel full again."

"You... you liked it because it made you feel something, didn't you? It brought you comfort. Food made you happy. You would reject it when you'd throw up."

"Don't play shrink." He hissed and his body got tight. I gripped his hand tighter, apologetically.

"I'm not, I'm making sense of it. It's rarer for male dancers, that's all."

"Well your mom called me fucking fat at one point, so maybe that's where it all started?

"W-What?"

"I walked into the back stage area where they had unisex bathrooms, the door was wide open. Your mom was puking her guts out, openly, not even hiding it. She wiped her lips, looked me up and down and said, this would be me, porky. I was fucking little, maybe five or six, and I still remember that. I still remember that horrific comment. I was still pudgy; I hadn't evened out, even with all my dancing. I sobbed to my mom and I remember she flipped out, it was just the start of all their fights."

"Holy fuck..."

What do you say? What do you even remotely say? I could understand how the eating disorder made Harry feel like he had control. He was also in an incredibly intense environment in a foreign country. The food brought him comfort, but that terrified him so he would expel it and start again. My mom very well... she could have planted that seed in his head.