#physically I've other both paced a whole in my floor and dug through my chair

[its-actually-withered]

I'm trying real hard against the urge to wipe my accounts, quit my job and live permanently in a blanket fort because *Jean-Ralphio voice* I don't know I am

[mikkachu8888]

A/N: Disclaimer for eating disorder. If you are sensitive to the topic then please be warned. I know there are different kinds and different ways people feel about them. This is just my rendition in this story.

His voice was irritating me. I keep my face neutral as I look at my boyfriend across the table. My hand grips the fork just a little harder as I stab the utensil into the food for the umpteenth time already. I didn't understand why it was annoying me, it just was. I don't even understand why he's talking so much today. That's a lie. I do understand why. It's one of those stupid coping tricks they teach you in therapy in order to help distract you. That's probably why it's annoying me. I know he's only talking to me this much because he's noticed my struggle. He's attempting to distract me so I can finish my meal. He's already done with his food. He's been done with his food for 45 minutes now and I've barely made it halfway. Nonetheless he acts like he doesn't mind the slow pace and continues to talk away about his time with the boys at training practice today.

I look back down at my food. My lips flatten into a line and inhale deeply. I sigh. Yoongi notices the light sound and he momentarily pauses and glances over at me. He continues his story.

"I know I'm not the best dancer, but I wish they would stop putting me next to hoseok because he makes me look worse. I don't how he can get his hips to-"

"Yoongi… please shut up." I whisper, not even looking up at him.

He makes a small uncertain noise of surprise, but closes his mouth anyway. He didn't take it personally. At this point he watches me silently. I continue to take small bites of my food.

I hear him sigh and I glance up at him. He’s making that face again. That face like he wants to say something, but holds back. I decide to ignore it and stare back down at my food. I’ve made it a little over half way now and I can’t stand to see the white porcelain peeking out from underneath the meal. 

My stomach feels extended and it makes me feel sick. It makes me nervous and tense. I know it’s irrational. I know my mind is confused and I just need to focus on what they taught me in recovery. I don’t know how many times Yoongi came with me to therapy. He sat through the long drawn out therapy groups that talked about how eating disorders make our minds think, what behaviors to look out for and how to support us, even if it didn’t all make sense to him. In fact, some of it actually sounded downright ridiculous to him. Yoongi, himself, actually didn’t even eat much and worked mostly,  so he found it a little bit of a burden to have to find time in his schedule to sit down and eat with me and keep me accountable… but he did it anyway because he loved me and wanted to support me. I told him that I could find someone else to eat with if his schedule was too much, but he always made time. His only response being “I need to go back to my roots of eating at a table with my family anyway. Quality time is important and the boys are always telling me I need to eat more, anyhow.” I’ve been in recovery for my eating disorder for 4 months 2 weeks 2 days 13 hours and 36 minutes. It seems like every minute that I have to battle my own mind and suck it up is a struggle. It almost seems like a sick game. How long can I go without hiding food or sticking my fingers down my throat? How long can I go before I screw up and I'm dumped back under constant 24/7 supervision and someone has to follow me to the bathroom? How long can I go until I fail? They keep telling me that everything will be better once I get into a routine and my body gets used to food again, but I don’t think I can make it that far. I feel like I'm spiraling out of control. I feel like everyone else is in control of a life that should  be mine. It should be only mine and no one should be able to tell me how to live my life or what I can and can’t do to my body.

“(Y/N)...” Yoongi’s voice breaks me from my vicious thoughts. Apparently I was sitting frozen with my fork floating just before my mouth and my eyes dazed off into the distance. My eyes snapped to Yoongi across the table. He’s staring at me with a concerned look. “You’re crying.” he says gently. It was only then did I notice the cold wet feeling on my cheeks. I momentarily stayed frozen in my position keeping my wild gaze on Yoongi. Then I gently sit up straighter and gently set my fork down making it clink onto the plate. I press my lips firmly together as I stare back at him. My hand clenched tightly into a fist and my nails dug into my palm. Yoongi’s concerned face morphs into one of determination. It was almost like he could read my mind. Like he knew what I felt like doing. His eyes narrow slightly and he speaks firmly.

“ Don’t.”

There was silence. I stared at him and he stared back at me. It’s like all noise was muted out and there was only thick, tense, silence. I panicked.

Then I bolted. I pushed my chair with such quickness that it caused a burst of air to push my hair forward. The chair screeched across the floor and left black skid marks across the floor. The force of my body caused my plate of food to knock on the floor and the table to push roughly against Yoongi’s stomach. The air was momentarily knocked out of him and I was able to use that moment to make my escape from the table and take off. It was a second and only a second before Yoongi had recovered, shot up from the table, and took off after me. He was fast, much faster than you thought he would be, but then you remembered that he was much more physically active than I was. He undergoes intense practice and physical activity everyday from his role of being an idol, not to mention he used to play basketball for fun anyway. Of course he was faster than me.

As I ran I attempted to knock things over or throw things in the way of his path to slow him down. It’s not like it did much because before I knew it he had tackled me to the ground just before I could even place my hand on the doorknob of the bathroom door. We both fall to the floor with a loud thud and Yoongi immediately wraps his arms around me tightly. It wasn’t enough to hurt me, but it was enough where I couldn't even move. You could see the muscles in his usual slender arms bulging from restraining me so firmly. I immediately threw a tantrum. I started kicking and screaming and tried to head butt him. I demanded he let me go, I cursed at him, I even threatened to break up with him., but all of that fell on deaf ears. He wasn’t listening to what I was saying. He didn’t even care. He just continued to silently restrain me as I screamed and got all of my emotions out. 

Eventually after 20 minutes I gave up. I turned on my side and covered my face. I cried, no, I sobbed. I didn’t fight him anymore and his grip on me slowly loosened. I didn’t bother moving. I just wanted to be left alone at that point. I stayed on the floor and cried like a pitiful child. I am a grown adult and I’m crying like a child. I want to crawl in a whole and not be seen. I can’t even stand to look at Yoongi. I’ve never behaved this way in front of him before and that only fueled how mortified I felt. I immediately began to hate myself. More than I already did. I feel like I've failed restraint and use of coping skills. Even though I was restrained I feel like I mentally relapsed anyway. I feel like I've failed.

I feel an arm going around my waist. Yoongi had laid down next to me on the floor and pulled me close to him. His face was resting on my shoulder in the crook of my neck and he kissed the skin softly. He rubbed my arm softly. He wasn’t pulling away or disgusted with my behavior.

“Did I hurt you at all?” he asked quietly.

“N-no..” I say slightly hiccuping

“I’m sorry.” he said. Why was he apologizing. It was supposed to be me who should be apologizing. I was so rude to him and I could have hurt him because I was being selfish and couldn’t control my urges.

“W-why?” I ask, glancing at him.

“Because I can’t help you… and I want to… so bad. I… I just want you to get better.” He says, his voice straining. He holds me tighter to comfort himself, not me. I didn’t know what to say. I had no clue to respond to him. I also had no idea how much my behaviour had an emotional impact on my usually emotionally passive boyfriend. I shifted our positions on the floor where I turned onto my back and looked up at him. He wasn’t fully crying, but his eyes were teary. 

“I love you.” I told him and he gave a breathy chuckle and smiled slightly. He gave me a kiss. 

“I love you too.” he said with our news still touching. He moved beside me on the floor and I laid my head on his chest. I think at this point we were both too emotionally exhausted and didn’t bother getting up.

“We'll get through this. Believe me.” he said with an assertive tone. I bit my lip.

“Okay.” I whispered back. After a moment of silence he pulled out earbuds and his phone from his pocket. He sticks one earbud in my ear and the other in his. He starts playing music softly and I immediately felt calmer. I let out a deep relaxing sigh and I could feel the tense muscles in my body finally unravel and relax. The music with the steady beat of Yoongi’s heart was just what I needed to calm down. With moments like this then perhaps I could get through all of this and go onto long term recovery. I believe after a moment like this I won't feel so alone on tackling this on my own. It was after a few songs that yoongi spoke with the most impacting and passionate voice he ever mustered. It almost seemed like he spoke this with more passion than the first time he told me he loved me.

“I won’t let you die.”