“Don’t hey  me.” James’ voice was just as deep and British as he remembered, but he didn’t sound angry. “Why did you wait so long to text me?”

“I’ve always liked how straightforward you are.” WW picked at the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah, and you’re the same unless you’re being a chickenshit. Don’t avoid the question.” He could picture James with his arm crossed, the other holding the phone to his ear. He’d be hunched forward, eyebrows furrowed… But no matter how angry he got, he always looked too sickly to be intimidating.

“I’m sorry.”

“Tell me why.”

WW took a deep breath. “I just… I was trying to put everything behind me. Move on, be better.”

“You didn’t need to cut me out.”

“I wasn’t even sure what we were, if we were a fling, or—”

James didn’t miss a beat, “Then maybe we should have actually talked about it.”

“You never prompted the conversation either, you can’t be mad at me for that.” WW huffed.

“I can be mad at you for whatever the fuck I want to be mad at you for.”

WW just growled, frustrated, and raked a hand through his hair. “Shit… This was a mistake. Just… Forget it.”

“No!” James cried before WW could pull the phone away from his ear. “I—I’m sorry, I just… It’s been a year.”

“Nine months.”

“You know how slowly time passes in that fucking place.” James snarled.

“Fair… Wait… That place?”

“Yeah, I’m out.” WW froze. He’s out? He hadn’t thought that he would ever hear those words coming from James. Where is he, now, then? Is he… He was silent for too long, prompting James to say, “Walter Wesley?”

He’d always liked the way James said his full name. ‘Walter Wesley is the same number of syllables as WW, anyway.’ He’d shrugged. “I-I’m still here, sorry… Are… How long have you been out? Why’d they let you out? Are you doing alright?” The questions rushed out without a pause.

“I’ve been out a couple months. You got to me, you know? You leaving… Made me realise I didn’t want to be there any longer. Made me realise I needed to get serious about getting better, or whatever. I’ve put on like… forty pounds.”

“Forty?” WW gasped, putting a hand to his stomach. “That’s… That’s impressive.”

“Yeah… What about you? You must’ve put on so much more by now…” He chuckled awkwardly.

“I’m… I-I haven’t weighed myself in a while…” WW mumbled. Last time I had, I’d barely put on twenty-six… He thought sadly. James is doing so much better than me. James is… He’s at a healthy weight by now, probably.

“My doctor says I’m allowed to start working out, so long as I keep my calorie intake up relative to how much exercise I do.” WW could hear his smile, and it just made his stomach churn worse.

“Wow,” WW chuckled, “I-I’m not even allowed to work out, yet… I have another appointment in like two weeks, though… Maybe then.”

“I’m sure you will. You always did so well at rehab. Didn’t use any of the tricks Cynthia tried to teach you.”

Tears welled up behind WW’s eyes. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't continue the conversation, or he might've broken down. “Yeah… I, um… I’ve got to go. But it was… It was nice to hear from you.”

“I want to see you.” James said before he could hang up. WW was silent for a moment.

“The florist shop is called Coming Up Roses. I’m going to be there tomorrow.” WW hung up before he could take it back. His mind raced with a million thoughts. James is doing well. I’m spiraling again and he’s doing so well. He’s going to see me. Like this. I’m going to see him. There’s no getting out of it. This was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake.

He managed to eat a third of the food on his plate before his stomach felt too full to continue. Before everything happening in his head made him want to throw it all back up again, WW went to sleep, tossing and turning all night.

He woke up to Pan knocking on his door. He groaned, pulled on some pants and a shirt, and stumbled over to it. He was not expecting to see so much green.

“You’ve been avoiding me, and we need to talk.” Pan said immediately, not even giving WW a chance to greet him.

“I just woke up. I cannot deal with—”

“Exactly. People who’ve just woken up are usually too tired to think of bullshit excuses and are therefore more honest. Good for getting information.” Pan gently pushed past him and sat down on his bed. “Come. Sit. I want to talk to you.”

WW found it very hard not to look at the mostly full plate he’d carelessly left out in the open as he did as Pan told him to.

“I’m not mad about the fire. What happened to my eye was a long time ago. I was a little mad at first, but… It’s been a week. And the others are starting to worry about you.”

WW frowned, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you talk about it.”

“You’re forgiven.” Pan smiled and nudged his arm. They were both silent for a while. “You know… Cori told me more about the eating disorder you have. About the stuff that happened…”

“You must think I’m pathetic, huh?” WW mumbled before he could even think, “You’re out there going through awful shit, and a-all that’s wrong with me is my choice…”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” Pan frowned. WW looked up at him with wide eyes. “The stuff I’ve been through has been tough, yeah. But it was all outside of me. My eye healed, and that was that… I’ve never had my own mind attack me like yours does. That’s… That’s so brave, WW.”

WW couldn’t keep eye contact with him. He was being so sweet...  No wonder Cori likes him so much. He thought with a frown. He felt far from brave. “I haven’t been brave, lately…” He mumbled.

“I know…” Pan sighed. “Actually… Everyone knows,” WW’s head snapped up, “I overheard Cori asking your parents if you’ve been eating dinner. They figured it out. Your mom wants to weigh you.”

“Fuck.” WW groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Why did you stop?”

“I… I’ve just been really stressed out…” WW sighed.

“Because of what happened at the fire?” Pan frowned, trying to make eye contact.

WW just nodded. “Yeah… A-At first… Then, every time I didn’t eat a meal, or just picked at it, I… It just got worse,” He chuckled bitterly, “I-I kind of really hate myself right now…” Pan’s frown deepened.

“Like I said… I’m not mad at you. Everyone’s worried for you, myself included… Let them help you?”

WW nodded slowly. “Y-Yeah…” He sighed and slumped against Pan’s shoulder. It was so comfortable… He was so tired he felt like he might just fall asleep there. It was nice, talking with him… He had such a soothing voice… And he smelled like lavender. WW liked the early mornings, when it was too early for his anxiety to spike, no matter how grumpy and tired he always was. He blushed when Pan ruffled his hair and sat straight again immediately.

“Come on, we’ve got to go get ready to go to the shop.” Pan smiled. He had dimples. They were very slight, but they were cute.

“Yeah, I’ve got to get dressed. I kind of just threw these on…” WW chuckled awkwardly.

“Alright… See you downstairs.” Pan waved goodbye as he left the room, shutting the door behind himself.

“See ya.” WW sighed.