Help

I look up at Roman, pretending not to know what he's talking about. "What was what?"

He sighs and slams my door, walks over to my bed, and sits down. "Why did you sing such a depressing songs?"

I shrug. "Because I like depressing songs."

"Bullshit."

I look up at him, shocked that he swore.

"You said that that song 'Help' was relatable. It was about a guy who was depressed and suicidal, who cuts himself. We all know that you do, and we know that you are depressed, but how bad truly is it?" I open my mouth to speak, but he interrupts me. "Is it so bad that you harm yourself in other ways than just cutting? Tell me. Have you harmed yourself in other ways? Have you thought about it? Have you tried to do it but didn't have the will to? Come on, tell me. Tell me the fucking truth."

Tears come to my eyes and I speak, choking back my sobs. "I-I do harm myself in other ways..."

He takes my hand in his, pulling me on to his lap. "In what other ways?"

I let out a struggled sob so he starts raking his hands through my hair, which comforts me. He's the only one who knows that since I told him. "I-I..." I let out a screaming cry and clutch on to his red sash for comfort. "I starve-starve myself." I cuddle up closer to Roman and cry in his chest, just wanting all of this pain to stop, for everything to stop.

He rubs my back and pulls me as close to him as he can. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Four or five days ago..." I sniffle.

Roman takes his fingers off my back and I hear him snap them. He pulls me back and spins me around, a plate of waffles, bacon, hashbrowns, pancakes, toast, and eggs in front of me. "Dig in." There's also a glass of orange juice and silverware with a napkin.

With shaky hands, I pick up the silverware and cut into the buttery, syrupy waffles, and take a bite. My stomach rumbles in response, wanting more. I eat more and more of the waffles, the anorexic part of me in the back of my mind telling  me that this will make me uglier and fatter, making no one wanting me anymore, but I ignore it and keep on eating.

After the waffles are all gone, I start digging in on the pancakes. The butter and syrup drip into my mouth, filling my tastebuds with glee. I eat faster, filling my empty stomach with glorious food. After those, I eat my French toast, loving all of this butter syrup. I've probably gained a few pounds after this, but oh well. I'll be fine.

No you won't. You'll become even more fat and ugly. Don't you know that? I thought I taught you well. Obviously we need a few more lessons...

I whimper at the sound of the nasty voice, but I ignore it and finish my French toast and eat my bacon, which is also covered in syrup. The sticky substance covers my fingers and I chuckle to myself, and snapping my fingers so my hands are clean once again.

So much syrup. So much butter. So much sugar. So much fat.

I shrug the voice away, and finish with the hashbrowns. They taste good, everything tasted good. To finish my meal, I gulp down my glass of orange juice. I think I'm set for the rest of the day.

Throw this all up in the bathroom later, you disgusting pig.

I shake my head, not wanting to do that. I'll never do that ever again.

Roman spins me around with a smile on his face. "Enjoy your meal?"

I nod. "Yes, thank you."

An awkward silence surrounds us but is broken when Roman says, "How much do you weigh?"

"120 pounds, I think."

"Let's go weigh you." He picks me up and brings me to the bathroom. He finds the scale right next to the toilet and places my feet on it. I stand up and wait for the result.

I look down to read the number. 118 pounds. I've lost 2 pounds! That's good! Wait, no it's not. Or is it? I don't even know anymore...

I look over at Roman and he's frowning. "You need to eat more." Roman picks me up again and walks over to my bed, placing me on it. He sits down and stares at me in the eyes. "Are you going to join us for karaoke night tomorrow?"

I give him a confused look. "I thought you guys only did it once week."

"No, we do it twice a week."

I nod. "Yeah, sure, I'll join."

He smiles brightly and hugs me. "Yay! What songs will you sing?"

"I have to sing three again?"

"Yup! So which three?"

I think for a little bit and come up with three. "I'll sing the songs 'Bullet' by Hollywood Undead, 'You're So Creepy' by Ghost Town, and 'I'm Not Okay' by My Chemical Romance."

Roman smiles and squeals. "I only know two of those songs! What's the song 'Bullet'?"

I smirk. "You'll see tomorrow night."

Roman lightly nudges me in the ribs with his elbow and I giggle. Roman stops in his tracks and I start to blush a dark shade of red. I. Just. Giggled. In. Front. Of. My. Crush. Oh my fucking God, I want to die.

Roman gets close up to my face and says breathlessly, "That was adorable."

I blush even more. He thinks I'm adorable? Does he like me back? No, Virgil, you're getting ahead of yourself. Just stop getting ahead of yourself. Take one step at a time-

Roman rubs my cheek with his thumb and the touch feels nice. But my face gets hotter when he starts to lean in to me. Then the unimaginable happens.

He kisses me.