Harry's POV 

"So do you want something in particular?" I asked Louis, carefully examining his face to see how he responded. I didn't want to push him too hard, and I knew eating was probably the last thing he wanted to do, so I wanted to let him pick something he felt at least semi-comfortable with. 

Louis shrugged. "I don't even know what normal is anymore, Harry, honestly," he said, flipping through his phone. "I'm trying to look up 'normal dinners that people eat.'" He was laughing a little, but I could tell he was upset, and I walked over, motioning for him to put his phone down and scooping him up in a hug.

"I know it's rough," I said, placing him back on the countertop where our hookup had began not too long ago. "Well let's think back to what you used to like. Curry was your favorite. And you used to like fish and chips. And Italian. Any kind of chicken. Do any of those sound good?" 

Louis turned to look at me, his icy blue irises contracting as his pupils dilated. "You're just so cute," he said, laughing, embarrassed. "Distracted me." 

I smiled, cuddling up next to him on the counter. It was good to see he was finally letting his walls down and allowing me to see his feelings a bit more. It was a good sign that he might be able to trust me again one day. 

"But yeah, I think I could do chicken. Like chicken and rice?" he said, biting his lip. I nodded, encouragingly, trying not to look down at his bony torso. I wondered if he used to avoid looking at mine, or if it didn't bother him, it was just an unfortunate tragedy, and not some bittersweet, half enticing, half sickening muse. 

Damn, I hated eating disorders. Even after all this time, I could never 100% let it go the desire to be thin, to stop eating. And as fucked up as it was, I felt the tiniest bit jealous of Lou -- not because he was suffering, but because he was winning. Winning that fucked up competition with yourself to get as thin as possible.... 

"Wonderful, I know a good place," I said, returning my thoughts to Louis. I leafed through my phone for the number and then dialed the restaurant, placing an order for two chicken and rice takeaways. We also got two drinks -- a coke and an iced tea. 

"So, Haz, I talked to Zayn yesterday," Louis said a little while later. We were back in his bedroom, sitting on his bed and watching episodes of the Office while we waited for the food, which according to Seamless, was only 45 minutes away. But we both knew it would take longer. 

"How'd it go?" I asked. Zayn was Louis' long time best friend. They had done a ton of music together, and as far as I knew, they still were. But the ominous tone in Louis' voice made me think otherwise. 

"Well, we hadn't talked in like a year. I was pushing him away so much when mum died. He just wanted to hang out. Like even just stay in and watch a movie. But I wouldn't do any of it. I just wanted to be alone and cry. And so, the friendship faded out," Louis said. He looked a little bit uncomfortable and was inching away from me as a spoke. Perhaps he truly didn't trust me yet...

"Anyways," he said, clearing his throat. "I invited him over. I was losing my shit and going to purge, but I couldn't with my throat. And so I invited him over. We talked a bit and I told him my issues. But then he told me he was getting married -- which was awesome. I was happy for him. But he was making Liam the best man...."

Louis' face fell and started to wipe away tears, which were coming down his cheeks quickly. "Lou, I'm so sorry. That's awful of him," I said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. We had both gotten dressed again, as it was rather drafty in the apartment for me -- and probably doubly so for Louis. 

I started chew on the sleeve of his jumper as he sniffled. "It's okay. He didn't have to ask me. It had been so long," he mumbled, shaking his head. "But yeah, he got offended and left. And he said he'd help me with meal check ins and getting a therapist. But that's about it."

I stroked Louis' back unsure how to respond. For as long as we were dating, Louis and Zayn had been nearly inseparable, best friends who did everything together. Who knew just one year could tear their friendship apart so quickly. I didn't even know who this Liam guy was either, so he must have been a new friend or a relative of some sort. Even if they hadn't spoken in a while, Zayn should have at least invited Louis to the wedding.

"I'm really sorry. Maybe you can work it out. Just give it a bit of time," I said, trying to keep a positive outlook. Louis nodded, nestling back into my chest and kissing my jawline softly. I fucking missed this so much it hurt. 

"Fuck!" I cried, jumping and ruining the moment as my phone buzzed in my pocket. The food was here now, according to the app, so Louis and I got up and headed to the door to let the deliveryman into the apartment.

Once we got the food, Louis started setting the table, putting out paper plates and plastic utensils. "Don't judge," he said laughing nervously. "I just lost my job." We made eye  contact briefly and I thought about saying something about the opening at my job, but decided that was another conversation for another time. Didn't want to stress him out anymore before his meal.

I began opening the plastic dishes of food and serving the chicken onto the plates. I gave myself the bigger piece, but sort of felt weird about it. Did I really need more food? Louis was the one starving. But I decided to leave it and then portioned out the rice, leaving a tiny bit behind.

"So I realized I do ten times better eating with others than I do by myself," Louis said, cutting into his chicken with the plastic knife. I cut into my too, quickly finding that it was not sufficient for the density of the meat and required a bit of sawing. 

"Yeah, that makes sense," I said, popping a piece of chicken into my mouth. It was lemon chicken, which used to be my and Lou's favorite thing to order on Friday nights when neither of us felt like cooking. 

Louis was eating his chicken now too, but slower. I took a sip of my cook and he watched me carefully, following suit and taking a hesitant sip of his iced tea. He sort of hovered there at the straw, probably wondering how much was too much. I smiled at him, as if to tell him it was okay. You can drink as much as you want. But it's hard to compete with a screaming voice in someone's head. Trust me, I would know. 

"Remember when we ordered this one night and we were supposed to go to some work party of yours, but just stayed in and watched Harry Potter movies for hours?" I asked, giggling as I thought back to the last time we had this meal together. 

Louis nodded. "Yeah, that was bloody amazing. My coworkers were so mad. They said it was the most boring party. They were jealous," he chuckled. His smile looked genuine, pure. I could tell it was a long time since he felt this happy -- and I realized I was the one making him feel this way. Which was probably the most incredible feeling in the world. 

But it was also terrifying. Because as much as I could make Louis happy, I could also make him extremely sad. And I never wanted to make that mistake again as long as I lived. 

"Great times," I said, finishing up my chicken and moving onto the rice. "But not as good as the time we had a sleepover party with Niall and he got so drunk that he ended up in the neighbor's apartment!" I was just rattling off random memories at this point, trying to hold off the inevitable deeper conversations we were going to have to have later... .like where is this headed? What are we? Are we together?

I wanted to have those conversations. Trust me I did. And we would. But not right now. I just wanted to keep Lou happy and distracted as he ate. 

Lou nodded, his shoulders bobbing up and down as he laughed. He was smiling, but soon his face fell, and he pushed the plate away, shaking his head. He had eaten most of the chicken, but hadn't touched the rice. 

"Can't do it, Harry. I can't have the rice," he said, putting his hand on his forehead. I nodded, putting down my fork for a second to comfort him. "It's okay," I said soothingly. "Are you fool?"

Louis shook his head, recoiling as I tried to touch him. "No, I don't know. I just can't. We already had that croissant today and that was a lot of carbs... I just can't," he said, shaking his head again. It hurt to see him like this -- just seconds ago he had been beaming over our memories. Now he was devastated over a helping of rice. 

"Hey," I said softly. I got up and moved next to him, kneeling next to him on the floor and looking up at him. "You don't have to finish it, okay. But whatever calculations and numbers going on in your head -- calories, macros, carb count, whatever. You're gonna have to learn to ignore that. Because those restrictions don't apply to you anymore, Louis. You're really sick and we're gonna go see a nutritionist and she'll tell you exactly what you need. Okay?" 

Louis nodded hastily, getting up from the table wordlessly and heading to the bathroom. He was not going to fucking purge right now... 

"Louis?" I called, running after him. He was starting to lock the door, but I wedged my foot in before he could close it. "Fuck off, Harry. I'm just going to the bathroom," he said angrily. His eyebrows were furrowed and his blue eyes were glaring at me.

"Lou, I saw that look in your eyes. Please don't do it. Your throat is fucked up, love. And you did so well today. We'll get through it together," I said, trying to change his mind, though I knew I was dealing with much greater forces than just Louis right now. 

Louis shook his head, but at this point, I pushed my way into the bathroom and was standing next to him. He glared at me with probably the most terrifying look I have ever seen, his eyes bloodshot and his hands shaking, and lunged towards the toilet, inserting his finger into his mouth and gagging. 

I tried to pull him off the toilet, but he was kicking and screaming wildly. "Fucking fuck you," he spat as I pulled him towards the door. I was trying really hard not to hurt him, given how weak he was. Not that I was really restraining him -- he was fighting back, giving me a run for my money to keep him away from the toilet. 

Finally, just as we reached the outside of the bathroom, he bit down on my arm, causing me to release him and grip my arm in pain. As I stared at the droplets of blood coming from arm, I watched in terror as Louis leaned over the toilet and finished the job. 

I don't think I can do this...