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"Eight hours, Lukas. Remember?"
Matthias's eyes are sad and worried and they pierce through the veil of… whatever it is that's smothering Lukas.
His own eyes narrow and he looks away, silent. He keeps his legs tucked up to his chest and hopes Matthias will leave him alone so he can he miserable in silence.
Because of course he remembers-- it's hard to forget the crushing pressure that chokes him, a bruising corset of a reminder that he isn't living in the right body.
He kicks himself when his gaze is pulled back to those glittering blue eyes and blinks back tears before returning to his hopeless recluse, ashamed that he's ashamed.
"I know," is all he can manage past the lump in his throat.
"Your actions are telling me otherwise," Matthias says gently. He reaches out and tenderly brushes a stray lock of blond hair out of Lukas's face. It's so soft, so trusting, so concerned, the final nail in the coffin.
That's all it takes to break the dam inside of Lukas. He's swept under by his emotions: all the pain, the sufering, the loneliness.
"But what if-- what if they see me as--" His voice is choked and tears steam from his eyes.
He hates his emotions; hates how they betray every thought he thinks, hates how weak and helpless they make him seem, hates how he can't just shove them down and ignore them-- the only thing he ever learned how to do.
Why does he have to be so sensetive? Why is it that no matter how much T he takes, nothing ever changes? He still feels exactly the same after years and years.
If things are never going to change,it might be time to… give up.
But he can't do that to Matthias. The man is an idiot, sure, but he loves Lukas more than anything. It would destroy him to lose Lukas.
Lukas's misery is interrupted by a fit of coughing that throws a tidal wave of agony through his ribs-- there's no way they aren't broken by now.
"Hey, hey. Breathe, Lukas." Matthias tells him, gently rubbing his back.
"If I'm right, you've had your binder on for 48 hours. That's 40 more than what's safe… you need to take it off."
Oh, if only he knew. Hopefully, he never would. Lukas wasn't even sure where his binders were. He must have taken them off somewhere obscure and lost them.
In his despair and hatred, he'd turned to the only other thing he knew how to use: bandages.
He knows Matthias will kill him if he finds out, which is why he's not going to.
"I'll deal with it later…" Lukas mumbles, still teary-eyed. He hides his face from the soft, warm light cast by the lamp on the nightstand.
He can feel the look Matthias gives him. "I… I don't trust you to do that."
Lukas sighs in frustration. "Leave me alone. I'm not doing anything until you leave."
Matthias rests a hand on Lukas's shoulder and either doesn't notice the wince or chooses to ignore it. "I want to help you. I want to trust you, but I have to know that you're okay. You've been binding for two days straight."
He rubs Lukas's shoulder gently before his fingers stop dead in their tracks. Only then does it occur to Lukas that the shirt he's wearing is thin-- thin enough that Matthias should be able to feel a strap.
"Are you wearing your binder right now?" Matthias asks. He doesn't sound concerned-- actually, his voice is relieved. Well, it's the dangerous sort of relief, when you're not sure whether it's safe to be relieved or if you're just making a terrible mistake.
Lukas shakes his head. It's technically the truth. For a moment, he feels the same dangerous relief, hoping that Matthias will drop it and leave him alone.
But then Matthias's hand trails downward. His touch is soft and feather-light, but there's no doubt in his eyes when he realizes what's going on.
"Lukas." He breathes. "Tell me you've been using your binder."
Lukas tucks up even more, flinching away from Matthias's touch. "I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
He's not, actually, but he knows Matthias won't listen to reason if he finds out he's hurt.
Lukas is unsurprisingly ignored and he wants to cover his ears at how Matthias's voice rises. "Lukas! This isn't safe and you know it! You could get seriously hurt--"
"I know!" Lukas snaps. "So leave me alone and let me take care of this. I want to be by myself."
"Well, I'm not leaving! Lukas, every time I have to leave, you find some way to hurt yourself. Do you have any idea how much it scares me to come home after buisness trips knowing that I could very well find your corpse rotting on the floor?" Matthias has tears in his eyes but the volume of his voice doesn't fall.
So that's how there going to do this tonight. Lukas wants to scream at Matthias, tell him that he hates it too and that he's scared too and that he doesn't want to ever be left alone but he can't, his voice is lost somewhere in his lungs and he can't say anything.
All he can do is sit and listen to Matthias's biting words, afraid and ashamed and hating it all. His head hurts, it hurts so much that the pain is drowning out the shouting. He's grateful for the misery, because he knows he'll feel even worse if he hears the words Matthias is screeching at him.
Eventually, though, Matthias runs out of anger and frustration. They're replaced by clarity and remorse as he realizes the impact he's made-- as he sees Lukas, trembling and crying and tucked up into a ball no larger than the pillow beside him.
"Oh… oh, Lukas, I'm sorry…" Matthias says, voice trembling. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, I didn't mean to…"
"Leave me alone." is all Lukas replies with.
Defeated at long last, Matthias stands and turns to his partner. "I'll give you half an hour to yourself, than I'm coming beck to check in on you. Got it?"
Lukas nods slowly. He's taking anything he can get, even if that only gives him a small amount of time to cut off tha bandages, clean up his chest, and find something that will hide it.
He waits until the bedroom door closes before uncurling and turning to the mirror that hangs on one of the walls. He looks at himself but feels even worse, so he turns his attention to his chest.
Lukas tugs off his shirt and immediately knows that he might have made a terrible mistake: dark, angry bruises blossom out from the edges of the wrappings. He sighs. No use crying about it now-- it's his own fault.
He then grabs scissors from a drawer and begins the long and tedious process of cutting off the bandges. They're tight, thickly-layered, and suffocating.
His fands are trembling as he cuts through the mesh-like fabric, streams of it spiralling silently to the carpet and piling up at his feet. It takes forever, and with every snip he feels the chokechold loosen, just a little. It isn't exactly relieving, though. Mostly just painful, with something darker and more frightening lurking below the surface.
At long last, Lukas can finally breathe again. He doesn't, it hurts too much-- every movement he makes sends a wave of pain radiating through his ribcage.
There's no way to know for sure if they're all broken, or just bruised and fractured, but he's sure of one thing: it hurts. He holds back a whimper of pain and bites his tongue. He tells himself that it only hurts because he's letting it, but it has no effect.
And why would it?
His skin is painted with bruises, but more concerningly, a piece of what is undeniably bone is jutting out in a cracked, bloody mess.
Just to test the water, Lukas presses gently on one of his sides and immediately jerks his hand back like he's just touched a red-hot stove burner. And burning agony sparks up and he flinches.
Not only that, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when the door swings open with a click. Has it really been half an hour already? Matthias enters the room holding something red and fluffy in his arms, which is dropped abruptly when he sees the state Lukas is in.
"Oh my god--!"
Lukas slaps away Matthias's hand before he can touch anything. "I know. Don't touch me."
Matthias obeys, for once, and draws back. "I'll get you some pain meds. And-- here." He reaches down and picks up the dropped hoodie. "You'll like this one."
He's right. The fabric is soft and comforting and brings Lukas an alien feeling of safety and comfort. Yes, the hoodie is far too large, but he likes that. It makes him look flat-chested.
Soon, Matthias returns with a few pills and a glass of water. He sits next to Lukas on the bed while he takes the medication before setting the glass on the nighstand.
"The hoodie is nice," Lukas mumbles after what feels like an eternity. Matthias nods.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Fuck no."
"Okay."
While the fabric is comforting, the safety is short-lived and soon drowned out by deafening silence, the kind someone experiences when they're underwater.
Well, Lukas sure feels like he's drowning: it hurts to breathe, his lungs feel like they're full of burning seawater, and a sick, sinking feeling swirls into his guts. He tries to kick to the surface, but the waves send him spiraling back under. He wants to throw up.
"Are you feeling okay? You look sick…" Matthias remarks gently. His fingers instinctively to brush the roughly-chopped strands of blond hair from Lukas's face, but they stop suddenly. "It it-- can I touch you?" His voice is so thin and almost as soft as his touch.
Lukas nods.
He needs something to land on, something he can fall into. Preferably the void, secondarily Matthias. Since he's only got one option, he goes for the latter and pulls Matthias into a hug. He buries his face in Matthias's shirt.
"Why does it have to be this way?" He asks, voice cracking at the edges. "Why did I have to go through all this? Why can't I just be okay?" It shatters.
Matthias's touch is understanding and empathetic, it wriggles into Lukas's heart and nests there, warm and fizzy and reassuring.
"I don't know. Bit it's making you stronger. Lukas, you are the strongest person I know. You've made it this far, and you will keep surviving. I believe in you."
Lukas wishes he could believe the encouragement.
But he also wishes he could just tear his skin from his body, switch some parts around, readjust and reshape and become someone new, someone worthy of Matthias's love.
Better yet, he'll just get rid of his body altogether and become one with the void of space and time.
Would death really be so awful? If he stays alive, he's only going to suffer. Wouldn't the escape be nice? Yes, yes it would… The next time Matthias is gone. Better yet, that night. A knife, that's all he needs…
Matthias's warm fingers intertwine with his hair and gently pull him from his shadowy thoughts.
"How do you feel?" Matthias asks.
There are a million things Lukas wants to reply with, but he can't piece them together into words. Maybe he should just close up again and assure Matthias that he's fine. No, there's no point. He's tired, and Matthias will see right through him.
Instead, he shakes his head, knowing that it will be more than enough.
Because Matthias knows him-- he knows every scratch and scar and chipped edge, every flaw and imperfection, every mark and touch and breath and thought. He knows Lukas, probably better than Lukas knows himself. He can tell, regardless of what Lukas might do, that he needs someone to lean on, a shoulder to cry on.
And he'll be there.
And he is there: he takes Lukas's hands in his own and helps him to his feet. "When was the last time you've eaten?" He asks.
Lukas shrugs. He could just lie and say it had been that morning. He could tell the truth and admit that he can't even remember. He doesn't need to eat. He's fine, Matthias is just overreacting.
"Come on," Matthias says as he leads Lukas to the kitchen. "Let's fix that."
Lukas doesn't like that word-- fix. It implies that there's something wrong with him, and there isn't. Isn't it normal to not eat for a while? He's attempting to make up for eating too much, and yet Matthias insists he's not eating enough.
They reach the kitchen and Matthias turns to Lukas to ask, "What do you want to eat?"
Lukas sighs for the millionth time that night. There's no use arguing against food, he's not going to get away without eating. "Something light."
Matthias makes him toast and sets it in front of him on the table. Lukas frowns and begrudgingly takes a bite. Usually he can get away with only eating a little, but Matthias stares him down like a hawk until he finishes the whole thing.
His stomache seems delighted to finally be given substance it can regurgitate, but Lukas manages to shove down the twisting in his guts with a cup of tea. He knows they'll come back, though. They always do.
"Feeling better?" Matthias asks over his own tea.
Lukas nods, just a little. Because he does feel better, just a little. "I'm tired…"
"I'll bet," Matthias replies jokingly. "Are the painkillers working?"
"Yes. And I'm going to bed now." Lukas stands from the table.
"You should probably clean up first…"
Another sigh. "Fine. But if I fall asleep in the bathtub, you have to make sure I don't drown."
Matthias laughs lightly. "Sure thing."