[Week 19, Day 1, early afternoon]
Who: Elfangor, Matt, and whoever else shows up. Presumably Allen, with Road in tow.
Status: Semi-closed.
Style: Prose
Where: Yomisato
When: Week 19, day 1, early afternoon.
Rating: At least PG-13? Warning for an eating disorder.
Summary: Elfangor has developed an aversion to eating, after the way he died back home.
Since they'd gotten home, all he had wanted to do was curl into bed, drag Matt along with him, ignore the world outside for a while. And they'd done just that--dozed the day away, time blurring, same as the line between dreaming and waking. And somehow, the nightmares were kept at bay. For now. Elfangor assumed that Matt's presence had a great deal to do with that.
But, eventually, the necessity of living would rear its head. He knew that. Wished he didn't, but it was there all the same, lurking at the back of him mind, coiled to spring and attack, regardless of how much he tried to push it away.
The first time Matt suggested that they get up to scrounge up some food, he just burrowed deeper into the blankets, insisting they should sleep for a little longer.
The second time, he pretended he was still asleep. Couldn't respond if you were asleep, right?
But it couldn't be put off forever. And so the third time, he just met Matt's glance tiredly, and allowed himself to mutter out the truth.
"Don't want to eat... Can't. It." He swallowed, convulsively. "It reminds me of..." He trailed off, couldn't bear to say it. But he'd told Matt before, so it would not be particularly difficult to figure out, as it was.
He couldn't say it, but he could repeat, in a broken whisper, "Can't eat."
Not now. Possibly not ever.
Status: Semi-closed.
Style: Prose
Where: Yomisato
When: Week 19, day 1, early afternoon.
Rating: At least PG-13? Warning for an eating disorder.
Summary: Elfangor has developed an aversion to eating, after the way he died back home.
Since they'd gotten home, all he had wanted to do was curl into bed, drag Matt along with him, ignore the world outside for a while. And they'd done just that--dozed the day away, time blurring, same as the line between dreaming and waking. And somehow, the nightmares were kept at bay. For now. Elfangor assumed that Matt's presence had a great deal to do with that.
But, eventually, the necessity of living would rear its head. He knew that. Wished he didn't, but it was there all the same, lurking at the back of him mind, coiled to spring and attack, regardless of how much he tried to push it away.
The first time Matt suggested that they get up to scrounge up some food, he just burrowed deeper into the blankets, insisting they should sleep for a little longer.
The second time, he pretended he was still asleep. Couldn't respond if you were asleep, right?
But it couldn't be put off forever. And so the third time, he just met Matt's glance tiredly, and allowed himself to mutter out the truth.
"Don't want to eat... Can't. It." He swallowed, convulsively. "It reminds me of..." He trailed off, couldn't bear to say it. But he'd told Matt before, so it would not be particularly difficult to figure out, as it was.
He couldn't say it, but he could repeat, in a broken whisper, "Can't eat."
Not now. Possibly not ever.