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It's been about 48 hours since your mouth last touched something edible. Not your toothbrush, not your finger, and not the watermelon sugar-free gum. Just food—something that was truly nutritious. You keep track of the time you avoided food on your phone and make sure you keep a close eye on it. Each second ticks a little closer to the satisfaction of your body. Your goal was 72 hours--3 days. 3 days without any solid foods. You allowed yourself to drink water or diet soda, but that was it. Thankfully, you had the weekend to do this, or you would have fainted in the middle of training. You couldn't starve yourself for more than a day when you had work, but instead you'd restrict heavily. Absolutely no breakfast, a small lunch you'd pack for yourself (since you didn't trust the calories in the food the Hunters Association would provide), and a couple of berries for dinner.
It was annoying how you had to "fuel" yourself during fights; it was obviously self-explanatory, but it only caused control to spiral. The more you exercised, the more difficult it was to ignore your hunger. You'd justify all the cravings you'd give in to and the sweet binges you’d fall to because you exercised all day. You felt invalid. The constant thought swirled your mind: how are you constantly exercising and eating this little--yet you're still so big? Ever since you were a child, you weren't considered "small" or "skinny". You were always in between. You weren't big enough to be called fat, but not small enough to be called skinny. You were always in between the lines of a "healthy" weight and being overweight. These thoughts and comparisons sprouted into what you think of yourself today: a fat, good-for-nothing pig.
Your train of thought snapped when you heard the doorbell. Someone was waiting for you this late at night at your apartment. It was well after midnight. You checked the cameras. It was Sylus. It took a second for you to process why he was there, but you couldn't think of any reason why he'd unpromptly come to your place. Especially since he doesn’t take a liking to your humble abode and countlessly wishes to buy you a bigger living area.
Unbothered, he speaks to the camera, "Kitten, I know you're there. Open the door."
You love Sylus, you truly do, but his existence makes it harder for you to stay in control of your body. He never failed to check up on you. He could notice every little detail and difference--whether you were functioning a little slower than usual, or when you'd deliberately take the smaller spoon to eat. Your control weakened around him. You hated yourself for personifying Sylus as the bad guy. You appreciated his keen eye and concern for you, but you wished he'd understand that you do this to benefit yourself. To become the you that you desperately want to be. To be someone who can control themselves. To have the perfect body for yourself, but also for Sylus. He deserved a partner that was disciplined, controlled, and well-kept, just like him.
You open the door and find Sylus looking down at you with a faint smile on his face. Before you could say a word, he let himself into your apartment. He was in his usual attire, sleek and tidy.
"Your apartment is still as cramped as ever." He states as he took off his shoes and walked inside.
You scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes at the statement, and closed the door. "Why are you here? You know my schedule, I was about to sleep."
Sylus takes a seat on the couch, practically taking up most of it, and pats the remaining space next to him, inviting you to accompany him. "I had some time to spare. Mephisto informed me that you weren't sleeping. It was perfect since I was wandering around Linkon City.”
That damn crow, but a worry popped up in your mind. What if Mephisto saw how you didn't eat anything? What if he observed your nervousness throughout the day? No way. Mephisto didn't really linger around your place for too long. He would occasionally give you letters from Sylus or caw until he was content, but he always left you alone with your own business. You sit next to Sylus, curling yourself up to be as small as possible. You look at him, he's so... perfect. He's in such perfect control, as expected, since he's the leader of Onychinus. It sort of made you jealous how easily he manipulated control and made it obey to his will. He was well organized and had everything in good order.
Sylus hummed his favorite tune from his vinyl collection; you heard it many times when you visited his base. You both sat in comfortable silence (and his soft humming), enjoying each other's presence. You liked these moments. There was no pressure to do anything to fill the silence.
"I see you have been hydrating a lot, sweetie.", Sylus mentions out of the blue.
You raise your eyebrows in confusion, "Yes, I have been.. The water bottle you gave me last week is wonderful."
Last week, Sylus bought you a smart water bottle. It could be connected to his and your phone and track how much water you take throughout the day. He must have seen on the app that you drank 9 of those water bottles. You filled your stomach with water to ignore the void and hunger in your stomach. It was helping, but your body desired real food that could be digested. You didn't realize Sylus would notice and ask you about your water intake. You guessed it wasn't completely normal to drink this much water, but hydrating is important, right?
“I've been trying to make sure I hydrate myself every day, you know, since I'm a hunter and stuff." You noticed your tone was a little more jittery than usual. Were you this afraid of Sylus finding out?--yes. What if Sylus deems you as broken and leaves you? What if he realizes his partner is weak and undisciplined? You tried to stay calm and mask indifference, but it was a struggle. You kept eye contact with him, and hoped Sylus wouldn’t use his eye of desire on you.
Sylus' eyebrow perks up in amusement, "Hydration? Yes, it is important, sweetie. But don't you think this is overkill?"
"I'm just being safe and trying to take care of myself." You tell him. This was a complete lie. Everything you do to yourself deteriorates you bit by bit, and you know that, but you continue for the sake of satisfaction and control.
"In what world would drinking this much water be good, sweetie?"
You reply with silence, hugging your knees to your chest, leaning your back on the armrest of the couch. You avert your gaze to the window that displayed the view of the city, and quietly in your mind, you repeat your reasons to starve yourself: for the perfect body, perfect life, perfect control. Your self-worth was practically tied to how disciplined you could be. If you threw it away, what would be the point of your existence? Sylus notices your shift in mood and rests his hand on your knee, slightly moving his body closer to you. He looks intently at you with concern. His brows furrow slightly, and he quietly understands your silence. "Sweetie, I know you haven't eaten anything all day, and yesterday."
You immediately lie to him, "I ate." Your mood has become sour-- a consequence of your actions. The feeling of insecurity and emptiness always crept behind you, but this time, Sylus’ concern reveals your feelings completely. You hated yourself for needing to lie to him. Deep down, you knew Sylus could detect your dishonesty. He always could. He always knew everything, somehow.
“Mephisto saw it all.” Sylus doesn’t try to pester you and make you uncomfortable. You could tell he wasn’t trying to cross boundaries. “Tell me honestly, kitten, have you eaten anything these past couple of days?” His voice was full of worry, a rare tone from the leader of Onychinus himself.
He was right to worry about you, and you didn’t blame him. If he did the same thing you did to yourself, you’d be frantic. You would be in absolute disarray and would have looked out for him more closely. However, this was your deliberate actions; it didn’t matter if you were literally dying by the second. You deserved this suffering—it was punishment and discipline for you. There was no point in lying any further to him. “Water and gum,” you say shortly. It was clear you did not want to have this sort of conversation that was about to emerge. You also proved your prediction correct: Sylus knew because of Mephisto. Maybe he does linger around long enough to notice your eating habits.
For a while, you mentally prepared yourself for the day of the confrontation about your eating disorder. You milked all your creativity to think of excuses for skipping meals or avoiding your beloved Sylus’ cooking. You knew your actions were obvious and concerning, but why couldn’t time give you the mercy of putting this conversation on hold?
Without a word, Sylus stood up and made his way to your kitchen. He found the leftover berries you’d eat for dinner and plated them. He also prepared you a cup of tea—your favorite. Before he came to you with the fruits, he checked the fridge. He was welcomed with the cold breeze and a couple of unfinished energy drinks. In silence, he pulled out his phone and quickly shot someone a text.
Sylus brought the cup of warm tea and berries for you and placed them on the table in front of the couch. “Do you need me to feed you?” His voice was still laced with concern, but he smiled playfully, hoping you would lighten up in mood. “I know it’s late, but I need you to eat something before you go to bed, sweetie.”
48 hours. Just one more day and you’d hit your goal of 72 hours. You gazed at the berries in front of you, the ones you would always eat to barely sustain yourself. It wouldn’t hurt to eat just one, right? No. No. No, your mind was screaming to not give in. Your inner turmoil emerged on your face, and Sylus sat down next to you again. He placed you on his lap and held you, caressing your hair that was starting to thin out because of malnutrition—another thing you were insecure about. He didn’t force you to eat anything, which you were thankful for. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” Sylus asks. “Tell me, kitten.”
Silence continues to engulf you. It was at least comforting to have Sylus hold you. It was validating that he was a big guy, and you were smaller in size. It made you feel like you accomplished something. He continues, “I’ve been noticing a lot more these days on how you handle yourself with food… Sweetie, your fridge is empty, and you’ve been struggling to hold your balance. How have you been sustaining yourself with this little food?”
You look at him and see that his eyes are afraid. Fear from Sylus. Nothing and no one could ever make Sylus feel afraid. He was the one who gave fear, not someone who received it. You felt absolutely crushed by his response. Yes, you did expect worry, but seeing fear on Sylus really made you queasy. You couldn’t grasp how much Sylus truly cared about you, and how much this impacted him. You felt guilty.
You tried to respond to him, but all you could think of was nothing. You couldn’t think of the words that described what you felt—guilt, pain, sorrow, anger, loss of control. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You wished you could tell him exactly what you felt about yourself, but you didn’t want to burden him with more trouble; he was a busy man after all. You finally found the words that grasped some truth: “I need to do this for myself.” A short and vague response; at least you weren’t lying anymore. “I’m.. taking care of myself. It’s for self-improvement.”
"Sweetie, I'm afraid this is not 'taking care of yourself', it's the complete opposite." He says as he softly rubs his hand on your knee. “Starving yourself for long periods of time is not healthy at all. It’s not making you better, it’s destroying you, kitten.”
He reaches out for the cup of tea that has slightly cooled off. He hands it to you gently, being careful that it doesn’t spill. “Drink,” he says sternly. You take the cup of tea from his hand and have a small sip. It was soothing to your body, and the faint aroma was refreshing to you. However, you could tell Sylus put sugar in it, which caused your panic. He watched you carefully as you took a sip, but he lightly pushed the cup towards you, a sign to take more. You reluctantly took a couple more sips, but your mind hated every moment of it. All you could think of was the amount of calories this tea could have.
Sylus could tell the look of discontent on your face, “Sweetie, this won’t hurt you. Sugar is meant to give you energy, not to harm you.” You set the cup of tea aside on the table and leaned against his chest. Your mind completely ignored his words of logic and comfort. You just felt so out of control; it made you miserable. You felt like a failure, and that’s all you could think of. Your goal of 72 hours has just vanished just because of a sip of tea.
“Sweetie, I need you to look at me.” He gently put his hand on your chin, encouraging you to face him. “Whatever you are feeling about yourself, it’s not true. You are enough. You are beautiful, you are strong, and you are perfect. I don’t know why you must feel discontent about yourself.”
Hearing these words, your emotions threaten to spill out. You wrap your arms around him, embracing him tightly. He does the same, hugging you with both security and comfort. You hope your tears won’t bother him as they start to stream down your face. Your sobs broke his heart, and he continued to caress you, leaving you with space to talk if you needed to.
You struggled a lot with expressing your feelings. It wasn’t something you were good at from the start, but you were fine with it. But at this moment, you wished you could communicate well. You wished you had read all the books about emotional wellness and communication skills to truly say what you meant to Sylus. The feeling of fear crept over you again, afraid that if you spoke in a way Sylus couldn’t understand, it would be a problem for this relationship. You forced yourself to quiet down your sobs, “Sylus, I need to do this or else I’m going to hate myself even more. I hate my body, I hate how undisciplined I am, and I hate how everyone else has such wonderful bodies except me. I try so hard to be pretty, but I just can’t seem to achieve it. I’m so far from perfect, but this at least gives me some control to become perfect. I hate the feeling of the void in my stomach, but I hate it even more when there is food inside of me. I feel so gross and fat… Sylus, I just hate myself for everything I do.” You trail off quietly, and tears continue to fall. All you felt was shame for letting all your words out. It felt ridiculous that you had a problem with the very thing that kept you alive.
Sylus listened to you intently, understanding and empathetic. “Sweetie, I don’t think you understand that you are already outstandingly gorgeous. I know you don’t feel pretty, but you ultimately are. You have such a beautiful body and a beautiful heart. Physical traits aren’t the only thing that defines you. You don’t need to try so hard. If you want to lose weight, I can always provide you with a nutritionist or request the chef to cook healthy meals, but don’t ever starve yourself.” He rubs his thumb on your cheek comfortingly. “The control you feel from restricting yourself won’t do you any good, sweetie. You’re not weak for eating.” Sylus kissed your forehead, then your cheeks, and your lips. He didn’t mind that your lips were dry—the overhydration didn’t seem to help your lips. He continued to kiss your body, making you feel loved and comforted by his sweet gestures.
He went all the way to your stomach and looked up at you. “Sweetie, you’re perfect. I don’t know what you need to change about yourself.”
“My stomach is so-“ You were about to ramble on about the imperfections of your body, but Sylus immediately stopped you with a gentle placement of his finger on your lips.
He kissed your jaw and whispered, “There’s nothing that needs fixing about you, kitten. I want you to understand that.” He held your face in his hand, admiring your beauty. “I love you and all your insecurities.” He wiped the remaining tears off your cheek.
Sylus set you down on the coach, leaving you in a comfortable position. He took the berries he had plated and grabbed a strawberry and held it to your mouth. “Here, sweetie.” You reluctantly ate the strawberry. The flavors burst in your mouth. Your tongue was practically screaming for joy at the taste of actual food. “Good, kitten. Just eat it, don’t listen to what your mind says, and focus on the taste. Isn’t it sweet and refreshing, just as you remember it?” Sylus takes your attention instead of your thoughts. “I ordered some groceries to fill your fridge, alright? They’ll come in the morning. I want you to use them all.”
You finished the plate of berries using Sylus’ help. You had to admit, it was enjoyable. His voice calmed your mind, and your body rejoiced at the intake of food. Sylus once again handed you the cup of tea, and this time, you took it without any thought. You drank the cup until it was empty, and you saw Sylus’ relieved smile. He knew your relationship with food wouldn’t change overnight, but he was glad to see that you were willing to finish what he gave to you.
“Let’s take you to bed, you need rest. I’m going to stay the whole night, and once you wake up, I’ll make you breakfast, okay, kitten?” Sylus took the empty cup from you and set it back on the table, and picked you up. He easily carried you, and it was something that you always admired about him.
“Don’t you have work at your base?” You ask. You felt bad for making him worry and taking up his time for this.
”I’m always free for you, kitten. Don’t worry, I don’t have anything urgent.” Sylus gently placed you on your bed and tucked you in. He didn’t forget to give you the crow plushie you both got at the arcade. “I’ll stay here as long as you need, don’t be afraid to call for me.”
“Good night,” you say as your eyes blink slowly. You didn’t realize how much time had passed—it was already 2 am. Your body was exhausted. Sylus gave you one last kiss on the forehead.
”Sweet dreams, kitten.”
He sat on the chair next to your bedside table, your twin mattress isn’t big enough for the both of you, but you were grateful that he was able to be by your side. As you drifted to sleep, he hummed a tune from his vinyl collection, but this time, your favorite.