Chapter Text
He didn’t feel fit to be her boyfriend. Not at all. It wasn’t that he was a bad boyfriend, he tried to be a good boyfriend, he really did!
It was just… she was so perfect, and he was so… not. He was chubby, fat, if you would, and he ate too much and gave her a hard time for nothing when other people were around, and refused to shave off the chops.
But she… she was perfect. Curves in all the right places, but she was relatively modest about them, something he liked in a woman. She looked beautiful, even when she took off the makeup for the night (even more so then, really), and her hair looked perfect, no matter what color she dyed it. Compared to her, he was… he couldn’t find the word, but it was worse than imperfect.
Minx knew this, too. Why else would she point it out every so often, poking fun at his weight and asking if he was really gonna eat all that at dinner. He knew she was probably teasing, but it got a little too close to home when it started sounding like she wanted him to lose the weight. In Schlatt’s mind, already warped from other people, people on the internet, people he shouldn’t care about, telling him he was fat, he was ugly, he needed to lose the weight, when she started saying that he needed to lose it, it almost felt like he had to, or she wouldn’t love him anymore.
He hated being alone. He couldn’t be alone again. Other than Jambo, she was all he had. And she loved him, or at least seemed to, he couldn’t lose that.
Trying to lose the weight was the least he could do to keep her affection. But he couldn’t do it so obviously, that would imply acknowledgement that he had messed up, and he still had his pride, he guessed, so he couldn’t acknowledge that he was so imperfect, that she and her comments and jokes about his weight had gotten to him, so dieting was more or less out of the option.
Instead, he just weaned off his meals, only eating whenever she was around, so that nothing would seem amiss. They normally only ate together about once a day anyway, so that worked out in his favor.
When she went on a trip, to go see some friends, he leaped at the opportunity to shed a bit more weight than normal, hardly eating anything. He knew he should feel bad at how easy this felt, how secondhand this had become, not eating anything more than absolutely necessary.
He’d gotten so used to the empty feeling, in fact, that he didn’t think he could eat much more if he wanted to anymore. He’d just throw it up. The thought of that much food now taunted and sickened him, whereas before that might have appealed to him.
He was losing weight, yes, but it wasn’t ever enough. Comments about his weight still flooded in on YouTube and his friend’s streams, Twitter and Instagram. The internet was not his friend, he tried to remind himself. It didn’t matter what people thought if he didn’t let it.
And he wouldn’t let it, normally. But the fact that Minx thought the same, vocalized it in her taunts and jokes… that was the turning point. He cared so much for her opinion, and if she thought he was ugly, overweight, then it must be true.
So he tried something a little riskier. He knew he weighed less, but he still looked… really flabby. This would never do, she’d hate it! So, knife in hand, he tried to simply carve the fat away, tried to shed the worst parts of him this way.
Unfortunately, he was too much of a pussy to do anything beyond just leave a big cut there. He chickened out as soon as it had started to hurt really bad.
He tried several times, actually, each time pushing himself even harder than the last time, always pussying out. Eventually he stopped. There was probably an easier way…
This wasn’t an enjoyable way to live life. He couldn’t keep any significant amount of food down, he avoided sex with his girlfriend. He couldn’t let her see his body until he was better, until he was ready, until he was someone she could love again. He knew she got slightly miffed about this, but it was the way it needed to be, until he was perfect for her again.
He thought of it as a… surprise, of sorts. The next time they had sex he would be someone she could actually love, love every part of, every inch.
But for now he would endure the jokes and teases she threw his way. He would endure the ever-familiar empty feeling accompanied by acid on his tongue and in his throat. He would endure it all, it didn’t matter. He just couldn’t lose her.
Minx, at one point, had thought her jokes were funny. He’d chuckle along and shake his head, like it was all in good humor. Everything was fine.
He was perfect to her. He matched her in wit, he was a bit of a brat sometimes but she loved that in a man, loved having something to make him cry about in bed as she put him in his place. And boy, was he perfect for that, too.
His body was perfect, too. Plush and soft all around, plenty of space to squeeze and knead his supple flesh. Perfect to cuddle when they were done at the end of the day, perfect to come up behind him and surprise hug him.
He was perfect to joke with, though. He matched her in the bite of their humor, and could take mean comments. He laughed along with her as she poked fun at his weight, his stupidly handsome mutton chops that she only pretended to hate.
And then, right under her nose, things began to change. At first he just seemed tired, if not a bit listless at times. He no longer wanted to have sex with her, always too tired. Cheating wasn’t in his nature, so she felt confident enough in their relationship from that angle, but she wondered if there was any way she could help him be less tired. He didn’t seem to sleep well, but sometimes he did sleep well. She had no idea what was up with him.
Other than that their interactions were the same, their usual jokes and conversations. The jokes seemed more one-sided though, mostly her just making fun of him and Schlatt laughing along, though even that seemed a little half-hearted nowadays.
And then she appeared in one of his videos.
Nothing was amiss, it was like nothing had ever changed, Schlatt was as lively and as much of an asshole as he usually was when he was feeling his best, but as soon as the camera was off he dropped it, his shoulders seeming to slump. He gave her a short smile before taking the cameras to go upload the footage to his editing software. She tried to return it, but he was already gone.
When the video was posted to YouTube, she eagerly waited for comments. She liked reading comments on her streams and sometimes on her videos, they were often funny or they said stuff about how pretty she was.
She knew she was, but the validation was always nice.
Reading through Schlatt’s comments though, she was horrified and disgusted at what she read. Only a handful of them were positive, while the rest were just horrible. They threw insults, poked fun at his weight, some comments held entire conversations about how he needed to lose weight.
What the fuck? How fucking dare they? He was perfect the way he was, why would anyone say that? Why do people feel the need to be so mean to people they don’t even know?
And then some of them hit a bit close to home. Some of that was almost exactly like the jokes that she would make to him when they’re at home.
But he wasn’t bothered by that… right? It was different when she did it, right? Cause she actually knew him?
The more she thought about it, the more she thought that it might actually be worse, coming from her.
She thought about his hollow chuckles at her jokes, how they stopped short just a few times too many.
No… no that couldn’t be right. She pushes this bad feeling away.
The next few days, she keeps an eye on Schlatt. Twitter, at least in regards to Schlatt, is as hateful as it was when she’d checked last.
One night, towards the end of the week, she caught herself slipping back into their old routine of insult humor, asking him if he was really gonna eat all that at dinner. She internally slaps herself, then takes a note of how hollow Schlatt’s laugh is. She turns to finish setting the table, and glances back over just in time to see him put some of his food back. She holds herself back from saying anything. It might just be a one-time thing. It’s probably nothing. Besides, if she jumps in too fast, he might get skittish and try to amend his behavior too fast. She had to play this carefully.
After that, she starts watching him carefully. Tells the same jokes, studying his reactions this time. She looks back at recent videos from the past few months where you can even remotely see his figure, and he’d filled out a lot, grown into his body well, looked healthier, and she looks at him now, his recent videos, and he looks sick, cathartic. He’s gaunt and pale, and his posture has always done well to hide his figure, but she can feel how… less full he seems around his torso now, especially when she hugs him or anything.
But one day she hugged him from behind, and he stiffened, seeming uncomfortable under her touch. He also just felt.. Less there. He’d been losing weight, and a pretty large amount of it, by the feel of him, compared to the last time she hugged him. God, she doesn't hug him a lot, does she? He needs more affection, she decides.
She was concerned about how much weight he’d lost. That couldn’t be good for him, and the thought that she had played any role in that was nauseating. She hated how he could still chuckle at her jokes, how good at acting he was for her to not notice until it was far too late how humorless his laughs were, how dull his eyes, that spark that she fell in love with months ago completely dim, burnt out.
She discreetly tried to get him to eat more, but it only served to make him uncomfortable whenever she mentioned it.
One day he was working on something by the time dinner rolled around. She asks if he wants anything to eat and he assures her he’ll eat later, he’s just busy and in ‘the zone’ at that moment.
When he finally got done, Minx asked if he wanted to watch a movie with her, forgetting about his lack of dinner. He agreed with a smile, and they sat down on the couch beside each other.
She finds herself extremely grateful that he was still comfortable with her touch. He didn’t tend to enjoy people touching him, but he was alright with her after they started dating. She was so glad that he still was, given how horrible she'd been to him, without even knowing.
Her head ended up in his lap, and he played with her hair as she began to nod off.
She was suddenly ripped from her doze when Schlatt’s stomach grumbled loudly. She opens her eyes, and his are fixed on the tv, hoping she didn’t hear that.
“Did you ever eat dinner?”
“Oh. Um. Must’ve slipped my mind.” He was still pointedly not looking at her, stress seeming to roll off him in waves. She got up and walked to the kitchen.
“Can I make you something?”
“It’s fine.”
“Please? It feels like you never eat my cooking anymore…” she pouts. She knows it’s manipulative, but he needs to eat. He looks… frail. Unwell. He sighs and nods, and she smiles. She makes something simple, just pasta, and makes him a bowl, bringing it back to him. He smiled his thanks, but it was forced, and he looked very nauseous as he picked up his fork.
He ate the bowl of pasta, thanked his girlfriend, and as they played the rest of the movie, Minx hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
Eventually Schlatt declared he had to go to the bathroom, so they paused the movie again.
He takes a while in the bathroom. Longer than what it should have taken him. A little mix of worried and suspicious, Minx puts her ear to the door and hears him retching on the other side, vomiting. Minx’s heart sank. She turned away, trying not to imagine her boyfriend, gaunt and pale and unable to keep any significant amount of food down because of the toxic environment she created around him. She tried to open the door, finding it open. She walks in and kneels down beside him, rubbing his back.
He doesn’t flinch, he’d heard her come in. He just sighs, resting his head on his arm over the toilet, and speaks, his voice weak and hoarse from throwing up.
“You must think I’m pathetic.”
He doesn’t move. She doesn’t either. She wanted to, so badly, but in that moment she just couldn’t.
“I don’t blame you. I am,” Schlatt rasped. “Cant even keep pasta down. What Will you do? Now that you know what a goddamn failure I am.”
“You’re not a-“ she tried to start.
“I am. You wanted me to do one thing. One thing for you to love me more, and I can’t even do that right..”
"I- no. Schlatt, no. I do not think you're pathetic, and I want you to stop thinking that you're pathetic because you aren't. I love you just as much as yesterday, and the day before, and as much as when I first fell in love with you! Maybe even more! And.. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. My jokes hurt you, a-and I didnt realize it.. I-I didn't want this to happen... Schlatt I love you, and I don't want to see you destroy yourself, because you've always been perfect…”
He looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever. “Minx, stop. I’m not perfect, you don’t get to look me in the eyes right now and tell me I’m perfect. If I’m perfect now, why bother getting better. Look at me, Minx. I am on my knees, throwing my guts into a toilet. I am pathetic. That wasn’t a question.”
Now that he met her eyes, she could see how bad it all was. His eyes were sunken, his eyes had lost that little twinkle that they always had when minx had first fallen in love with him. His face was pale, his lips were chapped and swollen from throwing up.
He was right.
But she wanted to help him not be.