Seeking the Light

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Although he was still as hungry as he had ever been in his life, (or so his melodramatic self proclaimed), Tristan didn't immediately reach for the room service menu. Instead, he chose to watch the still sleeping Adrian, a warm smile touching his usually stoic lips as he did so. It was unusual to see such a tightly wound and guarded man in such a state of relaxation, and he sincerely hoped that there would be more of this from now on. He was content to look down at the peaceful sight for some time, actually forgetting his hunger in favour of this. He had always found Adrian attractive, but seeing him like this only made him shine with a vigour that he had lacked before. It was all the stress of his hard life, forgotten as he continued to sleep away his troubles. At least for a while. It was more than refreshing, although Tristan also found himself worrying that if the difference in him was so obvious, then was there some truth to the idea that he would be better off dead? No, of course not. Maybe at the moment there was no other option, but they would change that. No matter what, Tristan wqould not allow sleep to be the best and only respite Adrian had.

In time, that age old hunger did get the best of him, and so Tristan took the opportunity to rbrowse through the myriad of fresh and junnk foods that were available to him. He ordered what was enough for at least three people, and of course intended to eat nearly all of it himself. As much as he wanted Adrian to stuff his face, he wasn't an idiot, and so knew that there was only so much he could do to get him to eat, and so he was quite resigned to setting an example by shovelling a mammoth amount of food into his own mouth. The things he did for that man, it really should have been enouggh to get him a medal. Unfortunately, he only got the enjoyment of that food, which really was more than enough to keep him happy. It was quite clear that Tristan was a man of simple pleasures, and some might have called him simple minded, were it not for his current occupation. Indeed, he portrayed a typical sporty type, full of energy and brain cells that were limited and focused only on the easy and straightforward parts of life. This was by no means a bad thing, only slightly strange when judged against the true intellect behind the man.

As he waited for the food to arrive, all there was to do was continue to watch a sleeping Adrian, still struggling to really see him as his boyfriend. It was such an alien concept to him, and unfortunately it was still taking alot out of him to remember how to be the caring, sharing type he really ought to be. That didn't change how gorgeous Adrian looked, or the joy it gave him to see how peaceful he could be at times. But soon enough the food did arrive, a knock on the door signalling its arrival. He brought everything in, immediately tucking into a burger that was apparently gourmet, but still just as greasy and wonderful as any other fast food morsel. Once he had eaten this, after several minutes of debate, he finally moved to wake up Adrian, feeling that missing another meal wasn't really a route he ought to go down. "Wake up, sleepy head." He said gently, tousling the black nest of hair a little as he waited for him to stir. He wondered if the calm and relaxed properties would leave Adrian as soon as he woke up, and really worried that the light would not be in his eyes, replaced by the darkness that roiled deep within him.
 
Adrian would have never thought that Tristan would resign to just watching him. It had always been Adrian's perception of the other male that when he was hungry, the whole world needed to know immediately or he would "die" or something like that. Thinking about this, Adrian smiled a little in his peaceful sleep. He was dreaming about his past with Tristan, knowing that this was what had brought him happiness and not other, silly things like the people he had met. The one person that all of his happiness centered around would be Tristan, and him only. It was like an addiction to him to get near the male, but never had he thought that he would fall in love with Tristan. Never had he thought that his feelings would become so intense that his heart burst and he let out the truth with much passion. Adrian had never really found himself overly attractive, he was just some nerdy boy with reading glasses and an introvert personality. No one had wanted to get close to him in that manner. Meeting a person like Tristan, whose entire life evolved around the people hitting on him, changed his life completely. He didn't think that a person could be like that, moving from lover to lover without stop. It had been such a strange sensation.

As normally, Adrian was just not hungry, at least did his hunger not wake him from his sleep. He didn't wake up when Tristan was looking at the menu, either. A very noticeable thing about Tristan was the fact that he ate a lot, and Adrian had the exact opposite of that. He rarely ate anything at all, and he usually skipped meals in a fashion so that people wouldn't notice. But the always perceptive Tristan had immediately noticed his snaking around meals and of course had tried to make him eat more. This had also caused Adrian to look at him in a different way, but beforehand he always gave up in advance because he knew that Tristan desired an easy relationship with someone that gave him no responsibilities. He was thought to be such a complicated individual, but in the end he was just a normal guy. He had the simplest points in his life - sure, his job was a complicated affair and he had to handle a lot of complicated codes in all kinds of languages. But if you caught him at home, he was just as lazy and simple as any other guy. He always worried about stupid things but he was just adapt at hiding it all. And then Tristan shows up and basically turns his world around - anyone would be freaked out, right?

A person like Adrian was used to the thought of being with Tristan in such a fashion in the fraction of a second - after all, it was his feelings that had finally been accepted by the other male, so he was more focused on his happiness. He still wouldn't be able to figure out that his boyfriend had been watching him while he was sleeping, and if he knew the incident would probably be embarrassing for him. Adrian had never wanted to think of himself as gorgeous, or attractive in any way, but there was something in the way Tristan looked at him that made him think about those words... Tristan thought of him in that way. Tristan thought he was gorgeous. He still didn't wake as Tristan began eating, rather just rolled onto his side with a sleepy mumble. He really didn't want to wake up anytime soon, he hated waking up when he was sleeping for once in his life. When he was finally rustled to wake up, he mumbled in protest and tried to get Tristan's hand away. "No... don't wanna..." He muttered stubbornly, but he was already awake. Sigh. Then he'd have to get up. He crawled into Tristan's lap, lying his head against the male's lap with a yawn. "Don't wake me when I'm sleeping for once... geez..." He complained with another sigh.
 
Having never been awake before Adrian had been up for some hours, it came as a surprise that the black haired man was still stuck in what he liked to refer to as the lazy teenager stage of life. It was probably warranted, and god knew Tristan had had his share of rough mornings after the night before, but that didn't change just how amusing it was. Who wouldn't find it funny, watching a man they knew and respected as a serious force of intelligence, reduced to a muttering pair of lips and dishevelled hair underneath a duvet. Tempted to just leave him to it, Tristan found his mind made up by the delicate touch of bony shoulder that was visible, finding that the sight of anyone, let alone his boyfriend in such a sorry state was enough to make the decision that eating was more important than sleeping. And anyway, everyone knows that eating a good hearty meal will make anyone feel tired and lethargic. It was two birds in one stone, or so he hoped. Knowing Adrian, he'd probably find a way to be different from everyone else, which was definitely not a good thing in this case.

"Nope. You have an appointment with your dinner, and I will even make aeroplane noises if it helps." He imitated a passenger jet in childish accuracy, doing so whilsst quite brutally ripping the duvet from Adrian. He'd make a great mother one day, or he would have, had he been that way inclined, and also female. So, perhaps he'd make a decent uncle instead. Yes, that was a far more likely outcome in the future. "You can sleep after I've shoved a weeks worth of calories into you." Apart from anything, it was a matter of balancing his diet. It was likely that half his problems were caused by deficiencies in various proteins, vitamins and neurotransmitters. As they sat, you are what you eat. Tristan briefly considered buying a broad spectrum vitamin supplement for Adrian, and possibly making him have blood tests, maybe even get him on the happy pills. Thankfully, he knew enough not to push too much too quickly, and as such stuck to feeding him up for the time being. He expected that when they got back to England he would find the time to plague him with other remedies, and hopefully would be guarded by their growing relationship.
 
Well, Adrian hadn't had what was called a "proper night's sleep" for about... forever, and thus he was stuck in this sleepy state now, of all times. He just hated when people thought he was some inhumane being that couldn't be lazy and stuff like that. Of course, someone like Tristan would find the usually serious Adrian pretty amusing when he was a mess on the bed, but the sleepy brain of Adrian didn't care about that. But he really didn't care that he was just lying there and muttering about wanting to sleep all of the time. He just wanted to get his life overwith, even if he had promised to stay alive for Tristan. He wondered what Tristan would even think if he died. Would he really give it that much care in the end? Something in Adrian still dared to doubt that, and he felt his heart clench. He hated himself, his body, his mind, his abilities, his personality, everything about himself. He didn't see why anyone, especially a picky person like Tristan, would even like him. Submitting to this, he dived even deeper down under the covers, as if he would never get up again, and he really didn't want to get up, either.

"But why do I have to get up now? I just want to sleep, it's not like that won't help me at all..." Adrian muttered as he looked away slightly, trying not to look at Tristan because he had tears in his eyes by now, and he hated it. He just wanted to be able to hide those tears and never show them, but Tristan always managed to catch him whenever he was in such a weak state. It embarrassed him that he was so weak to stuff like that, or, just weak in general. His body couldn't handle much, and he had often fainted from lack of nutrition, so that was nothing new. Aside from that, he had avoided a visit to the doctor for five years so far, and he was planning to make that six, then, seven, eight... and so on. He hated being with a doctor. Sighing as the duvet was thrown off, he sat up, still hiding his face as he tried to wipe away the tears. He felt horrible at the moment, now not sure what he was going to do of himself. Would he really be happy somewhere along this road of pain? Was there something for him on the other side of the torment he had had to go through as a young child? He couldn't handle the painful thoughts of these things and he ended up crying again, not know what on earth he should do about himself.
 
He almost felt sorry for him, but then so helpfully recalled the many times he had been drawn out of bed at ungodly hours of the day and night for the purposes of surprise interval training and other such monstrosities. Reminiscing on those days of the iron fist of the boarding school physical education teacher, Tristan couldn't help but be amused. In part it had been pretty damn horrendous, but he was one of the lucky few who had managed to get along with the other boys, as well as the teachers, and so his days there had not been entirely awful. He even had some more than fond memories of the place, although it was quite safe to say that he would never in a million years send a child there. He didn't really see the point in having children and then pawning them off on some institution, it was irresponsible and wrong, not that all that many of his ilk shared this opinion. Apparently parents were entitled to have their cake and eat it too, something that was out of the question for mere mortals.

Unfortunately, he was brought of these thoughts of the past by the inexplicable sound of indistinct sobs. It took him a moment to locate the source to Adrian, his face immediately dropping into a frown as he laid eyes on him. He was unsure of what had brought this episode on, but knew he really wanted to stop whatever it was, it was just a bit sad that he didn't only want to do this for the sake of Adrian, as he also thought of himself, and how awkward this whole thing was. Even so, he was able to act with relative smoothness, quite brazenly hopping onto the bed beside Adrian, looping his arm around his shoulders easily as he asked with some concern, "Why are you crying? Was it something I said?" He did have a habit of putting his foot in it, so it wouldn't surprise him if he had done something stupid. "I'd tell you to cheer up, it might never happen, but I have a feeling it already did." Whatever 'it' was. Tristan leaned over, gently kissing his cheek and running soothing fingers through that shock of hair, unsure of himself, but as always reverting to the arbitrary physical world when he didn't know what else to say.
 
It was not even a question that he knew how to answer. Why was he even crying? He was scared. Scared. That was the word he was supposed to tell this male that actually seemed to genuinely worry about him. But what was with his throat? For the moment, it was constricting against his will and he didn't know what to do to make it obey him. He wanted to speak, but for the moment, he was broken down by sobs. Somehow, he knew that this was all going to go wrong. Him and Tristan... they were so different. Tristan couldn't handle a mentally instable person such as himself. He was weak and didn't know how to help himself. Tristan wouldn't be able to handle a person like him. Many times, he had tried to convince himself that he was alright, and that Tristan probably didn't care about anything like that... but the worry consumed him and made him this mess he was turning into now. That mess of fear that couldn't even fall properly in love with the man he desired to spend his life with, the mess that couldn't speak up for himself in a situation like this. Just because of a constricting throat.

But he'd eventually have to fight it. He'd eventually have to do something about it. He looked up at Tristan with teary eyes, and as they widened slightly in fear, he glanced directly at Tristan. "I'm... I'm scared, Tristan." He whispered as he fell into Tristan's arms, not knowing what else he could do. He didn't want the male to leave him alone. He didn't want to be hated by everyone again. Going back to that loneliness... he was going to be killed by it eventually. It would eat down to his bones and devour him, piece for piece. "Please... don't ever leave me... I'll die without you... I swear..." He whispered as he clung onto his boyfriend, tears falling from his eyes. He was gripping very tightly, so tightly that the shirt would probably be damaged eventually if he didn't let go, and his eyes were shut to the point that one would think it could never open again. His whole frame was shaking visibly, and he could barely even get himself to talk in coherent sentences. This was what he wanted to run from, even if he didn't know what "this" was in the first place. But in his jumbled up world, it was something to be feared. Something that he could not face, no matter what the consequences. And here came the actual damage on him.
 
He didn't know how to react, and was still operating on the manipulative instincts that had seen him through life up until this point. He was used to comforting and coercing people into compliance with his ideals, but somehow he felt that in this instance these sordid views would not help him one bit. In truth, he was the one being backed into a corner, be that intentionally or not. Hee had no choice but to stay with Adrian for the duration, for the simple reason that he genuinely believed that he would act on suicidal impulses should he make an escape. Maybe when they got back to England he would have no choice but to get him sectioned, for his safety more than anyone else. It was a difficult situation, and although Tristan didn't entirely hate the idea of being in a relationship, he was rapidly coming to resent the fact that he had been forced into it. But he managed to hide this well, patiently listening to Adrian, his fingers stroking his hair ever so gently, attempting to soothe him as best he could.

"There's no need to be scared. I know you don't believe that, but it has to be said." He had no idea what he was doing, he was fumbling for the right words, and failing quite miserably. All he could do was ignore the desperation of his counterpart, instead gently drawing him close, holding him tightly against his chest and saying whatever he thought might be helpful to him. "It'll be alright, I promise." Undoubtedly, it was a promise he couldn't keep, but in the short term it would have to do. "Just tell me what to do, and I'll try to help you. I don't want you to be miserable, you know. I only wish I knew how to make that happen." He spoke with truth, as difficult as it was for him. There was nothing else to say, and for some time a nervous silence spread through the warm, the only sound their breathing. It might have been peaceful,, had Tristan not been so tense.
 
Adrian gently put his hand on Tristan's cheek, stroking it as he willed himself to at least calm down a little bit. "I... I'm sorry. I know I've dragged you into this..." He said apologetically. "I just wanted you to love me... I don't know why I went to these crazy measures, but if you really don't, then please... please don't fake it for me. I don't.... I can't go with that." He muttered as he looked up at Tristan. "I'm sorry for all of these words... the things that I've said, the things that I made you think of, and the things that I've been doing to myself and you throughout the years... I just don't get why you won't abandon me..." He said in a weak voice as he hugged himself. "I don't want to cause you pain, and staying by my side is not something you're comfortable with. You don't like it. You don't like that I'm like this, and I know that you feel forced into this. That's why... if you really hate this, then back out. It'll only hurt me more... though it would've been nice..." He said regrettably, mostly as a punishment to himself. It was all about punishing himself for the things he had done and said.

"I guess that it was nice... believing, holding onto the foolish belief that you actually loved me... but all I've done is pressure you into this relationship... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to feel like this about you... I wish I could do it all over again, make this feeling go away, rip the love I feel out of my chest... but something in me, it won't allow that to happen, Tristan... I'll still love you, reject me or not, my feelings remain the same... it's not linked to my depression, it's not linked to my fear... just don't... don't lie to me, it makes everything so much worse..." He sat down across from Tristan, taking his hands. He was shaking horribly as he leaned against the other. "I want happiness... that's all I want. I want it with you. Somehow... deep, deep inside my thoughts, I want a happy, calm life by your side, and that's all I'm aiming for... if that's impossible, then please shoot down my dreams now, before they get too strong. If you don't reject me now, then I can't promise I'll mentally be able to handle it. Hope is... tricky in my situation." He said sadly as he looked down, waiting for some sort of punishment. Anger. Anything.
 
He was pretty sure that it was cowardly, but Tristan found himself looking away from Adrian, and also shifting his body a little in an effort to minimise their contact. What was said was poignant and difficult for anyone to hear, but for someone of Tristan's disposition it was almost impossible to deal with what was being said. He hated being tied down, was afraid that he wouldn't be enough for Adrian in the long term, or that he simply wouldn't cut it from the outset. He also deeply worried about his own emotional frailty, though he was not willing to admit this much. Even so, a part of him had to admit that he was invested in this relationship, had been for a long time. If he wasn't, then he would have abandoned Aidan a long time ago. He had not considered this before, had not allowed himself to admit that he had deeper feelings for someone, but now seemed like the perfect time for this admission.

"Aidan, I don't know if I love you. Hell, I don't even know how I see you. But what I do know is, I care about you a helluva lot." He looked back at him now, not wanting to distance himself anymore, or at least overcoming that urge in favour of something more productive. "If I didn't, I never would have allowed us to be friends, let alone...whatever the hell this is." He shrugged, a wry smile on his lips, "I plan on doing everything in my power to make you happy, and make sense of us. I promise. I'm not going anywhere, unless you tell me to. All you have to do is try not to doubt yourself, or your worth." And he would have to do the same. They were both guilty of thinking they were unworthy of being loved, had nothing to offer another, but this simply wasn't the case. Granted, their relationship would not be easy, and they would need to work on stabilising themselves, but they stood a far better chance of succeeding with these thoughts laid bare for each of them to see.
 
It was like an earthquake. But not a normal earthquake. No, it was a such shaking that it only appeared in the depths of the deepest parts inside his heart. It made him shiver and he felt like something crawled under his skin. He didn't like this feeling, but he knew that it was how he felt. Fear. He was scared. He was so, so scared of a phantom that only existed in his bad dreams. And even he couldn't tell how long he was going to last with that fear. There were so many things that he wanted to tell Tristan - utmost, those of his love, his feelings, his overall happiness that had been recieved once he could be with the other male, but he could never speak of it without feeling something burning and twisting inside his chest, as if trying to obstruct him from getting what he wanted. There were other factors, but these were major. He had no idea if Tristan's words burned or healed him, they just... stayed in the air between them for a little while.

But there was a time when one had to speak. Adrian figured that that time was now. He closed his eyes and nodded slightly as he wiped away the tears. He didn't even know if they were there anymore... he looked up at Tristan with an unreadable expression. "I... I understand... I'm sorry for what I said... I guess we're partners in crime, aren't we?" He said sarcastically as he put his hands on Tristan's chest. "Right here. We don't think we deserve anything but pain there, do we? In the end, we're just hoping something will come and take the life from us, so we won't have to bother with that ourselves." He said quietly as he moved closer to Tristan. "And yet, two miserable souls such as ourselves... we find each other, of all people. And what do we do then? We fall for each other. It's laughable. But maybe.. just maybe, the understanding that lies in this causes us to grow closer... no one can tell, no one can understand, we'll have to figure it out ourselves..." He had gotten close to Tristan, his lips hovering over the other male's. His hand was still pressed firmly against Tristan's chest, but not so it was painful for him.
 
Honestly, he still didn't know how he felt. It was easy to see how every second rocked Adrian, but here he was just struggling to work out whether this knot in the pit of his stomach was some awkward guilt over what was happening, or some true and deep feeling of love that had been fighting to find a way out for so long. He supposed he could only guess, and was at least certain that he had some feelings for Adrian, it was just a matter of waiting to see how far they would reach. As the man opposite him spoke, he lowered his eyes to the hand that rested on his chest, considering the idea that he may have been punishing himself, preventing his own happiness and causing himself pain for some reason. He had never before admitted that his attitude to life and its inhabitants could have been caused by a desire to emotionally mutilate himself, had only recently allowed himself to believe that he kept everyone at a distance for safety, rather than for the simple fun of living life without ties. What Adrian said was worryingly true, but funnily enough, he didn't feel all that bad about it.

Begrudgingly, Tristan realised just how similar they were, even if their weaknesses were expressed in entirely different ways, they really were one and the same. Even as Adrian spoke, their roles reversed momentarily, Tristan now needing the comfort and cajoling, feeling out of control and afraid. Of course, he still maintained some form of pride, refusing to express his misgivings, instead meeting the eyes of his love, refusing to back away anymore. He felt the hand on his heart, unsure of the heat radiated outward or infused inward, only aware that this connection had grown far bigger than it had any right to, and that he needed it more than anything.

In what was probably the most hesitant and also possessive act of his life, Tristan took it upon himself to end the feeling of Adrian's breath on his face, instead choosing to eliminate the distance between them, knowing that this time he really meant it. The kiss was gentle but unyielding as his arms pulled Adrian closer, not relenting even when their lips parted. "We're both idiots, but I'm never letting you go." What more was there to say? Tristan was not yet ready to proclaim his love, but he was more sure of himself, for the time being.
 
Adrian was the type of person who couldn't hide when he was in pain. It worked out horrible for him to hide it. Because often, his emotional pain was also accompanied by a physical one, be it in his stomach, his head, or wherever. He knew that he would probably have to go to a doctor, and even more so now that he was with Tristan, but it was getting better. He knew now that he had been in pain over his love for Tristan. He had tried to hide it behind the illusion that his life was horrible, and even if it was horrible, he had only thought about Tristan whenever that blade had graced his arm. Thinking about that now, he couldn't help but wince. It wasn't a nice memory, at all. He just wanted to shove it away from him, deny that it existed. But it did exist in the end, and there was nothing he could do to help it. He had to live with these memories and have them stand up together. Somehow... he knew that if Tristan was there to help him, he had a bigger chance of being able to stand on his own two feet again. If he was right with that, he'd probably get on with life rather quickly. He didn't want to end it anymore.

It was really laughable. Ridiculous. Adrian and Tristan... they were so similar. They were almost the same. The only thing that separated them was that they expressed the very same pain with very, very different actions. Tristan had sought out to live a "carefree" life, and Adrian had submitted to the blade. It was so stupid. They should've just opened up to each other in the first place, and then it would never have been so horrible. When his eyes met Tristan's, he couldn't help but widen his own slightly. There was something in that glance, something he couldn't really identify. But there was also love, the love that he was now aware Tristan felt, even without the other confessing to him on the spot.

Adrian's breath caught as he noticed what Tristan was doing. He was leaning in closer, and Adrian's eyes couldn't help but shut as he waited for it to happen. This time, when the amount of space between their lips had been decreased until it was gone, this time, it had been Tristan initiating it, and Adrian's arms wrapped around the other male instinctively. He felt like his heart was bursting out of his chest, and when Tristan pulled back, his cheeks blazed and flamed with a blush that covered all the way to his ears. "Yeah...." Was all he could say, his head spinning as he spoke to Tristan.
 
There was no need to say anything, and for some time Tristan was quite happy to just sit with Adrian in his arms. He allowed himself to relax, finding that the warmth radiating from the body nestled with him was enough to help him in maintaining composure. He was nervous of the responsibility that was now in his hands, fearful that he would let Adrian down and push him more squarely into the grips of the abyss. He wondered what would happen if the worst happened, imagining that there was only a pair of options. Either Adrian finally did top himself, or he got sectioned and lived in a drugged up misery. As for Tristan, the outcome would be the same either way, he'd probably just go back to his old life, minus the restraint. He expected he'd be one of those deaths that are reported as accidental, only for the sake of the family that couldn't cope with the fact that their loved one had drunk himself to death. Guilt really was not good for ones health.

But then there was also the issue of what happened if they somehow managed to wade through all their insecurities and various quirks. Their relationship could not remain a secret forever, and admitting to his family just what he was filled Tristan with immense dread. He tried not to think of the possibility of what might occur some time in the future, instead focusing on what was happening here and now. He smiled crookedly as he came back to reality, adding in a chipper manner, "You know you've still got to eat, right? I'm not that easy to distract." He was good at nagging, and would probably continue in this vein for some time if he was not heeded. "But after, I'll let you do whatever you want, because I'm kind." Teasing was his way of being close to someone, something that usually backfired quite spectacularly. He hoped it wouldn't infuriate Adrian too much.
 
There was a lot they both needed to learn. Of course, one of those things was to learn how to deal with each other and the world around them. A lot of things had yet to be cleared up, like their feelings and how they would express them. Other than that, they'd also have to think about what to do if their relationship managed to last out the pain and suffering that they both felt at the moment. If it was able to survive through their hardships and end up as the savior of them both, then what was going to happen? First of all, Adrian was worried about Tristan's parents. He knew that Tristan didn't have the most accepting family when it came to homosexuality, and he wondered if that would be a reason for them breaking up. He hoped not. A lot of things hurt and ached, but he was sure of one thing. He loved Tristan. Loved him more than anything in the world. There was nothing else to say about that. And he didn't want Tristan's parents to ruin their relationship just because of their narrow sights on love and relationships.

Adrian usually got annoyed at sarcasm, but this time, he couldn't help but smile. Tristan cared enough about him to be sarcastic and teasing with him. He crawled closer to Tristan and nodded slightly. "Right, I've got it. I promise." Adrian said. He didn't want to eat but he knew that with those eyes on him, he wouldn't get away because he'd eaten something. He sighed slightly as he slowly began eating some of all the food there, going incredibly slow. He was a bit scared that he'd be throwing up soon, and he grabbed Tristan's hand tightly, expressing his fear. He ate slowly, squeezing Tristan's hand. His bony fingers barely made a mark on Tristan's hand, though, and even if he felt like he was squeezing, Tristan was probably barely even feeling it that way. He was just scared. He hadn't really eaten that much in a while, and he was scared that it'd be too much on his fragile body. He didn't want Tristan to see him get sick in the middle of France. That'd be so lame.
 
He was understandably pleased to see that Adrian was eating, even if it was difficult for him. He had never before head to deal with the issue of malnutrition and the effects it had on the body, some of which many would have found counterintuitive. Even so, there was no point in attempting to make sense of biological processes that he had never before been interested in. Tristan sat with his hand in Adrians, feeling very little pressure on his own, though he could see the tension in the muscles of the other. He was of course unfamiliar with the concept of having such difficulty eating, but this didn't mean he would abandon him now. Whatever support he needed, he would have, even if that meant moving the earth or whatever other feats one might be able to think of. It sounded melodramatic, but Tristan could think of more realistic ways he could change, some of which would be pretty catastrophic in his eyes. For example he was already commited to eaasing off on his crazy nights out, prepared even to completely quit the clubbing and drink, not to mention going celibate. It wasn't something he relished, but Adrian needed him, something that gave him the jitters in a bitter kind of way.

After he had eaten a little, Tristan took pity and gently stopped him, not wanting him to push himself too far before he was ready. He took the plate, placing it to the side before smiling warmly, "Thankyou." It was all he could think to say, though it hardly seemed appropriate. Adrian didn't need to eat for anyone but himself, and thanking himm for it seemed just a little condescending, even though the place it came from was nothing but genuine. Tristan sighed, opting to go for a little peck on the lips - something he would quite like to get used to - before speaking again, "How do you feel? Do you need water or anything?" He was fawning over him somewhat, trying to make sure he attended to his every need, and in a way that really wasn't unwarranted. Although Adrian was functioning now, it really wouldn't be long until he was on his knees, unless he had someone hounding him day after day.
 
Adrian's shaking fingers managed to put the food back on the table. He hadn't expected it to take such a toll on him. His entire body was in a cold sweat, and his hands and legs were shaking. He was holding onto Tristan's hand with the hand he hadn't used to eat with, and he was now shaking so badly that it could be felt in Tristan's arm. He nodded slightly at what Tristan said. "No need to... thank me..." He said as he looked away, his whole body a mess. He wanted to be able to say something else, to do something else than these shaking movements, but his body would barely even allow him to move, let alone allow him to have any kind of peace. He was biting his lip harshly, and trying to resist fainting on the spot. It was a difficult task, and he broke out in yet another sweat. Pants escaped his lips and he looked honestly sick. He didn't think that his body would be this weak... it felt like a joke to him. He was always the happy and cool and clever guy, and as soon as he was presented with food, his body bent to the pressure and made him sick. It was laughable. He wanted to end himself for something so stupid, just because Tristan had seen him in this pitiful state. There was no way in hell that he was going to let himself show Tristan this side of him again, his biggest weakness.

"W-water would be... n-nice..." He said as he hugged around his own shoulders as if he was cold. The truth was that he didn't know what he was. He couldn't tell if his body was supposed to be cold or hot, and all he could think about was the thankful little bubble rising in him whenever he heard the way that Tristan seemed to want to protect him and take care of him. It made him so happy, even if he couldn't really accept the help as well as he wanted to. He had wanted to eat more, but he couldn't, and he'd wanted to go somewhere with Tristan afterwards, but his body set into a mode of sickness, of fatigue and he had no means to stop it. When Tristan was away to get him water, he got tears in his eyes that he tried to quickly wipe away before the other male was back. He didn't want to cry anymore, he didn't want to show any weakness anymore. He wanted to be strong and independent, and he was going to fight for it, no matter how harsh the pain would be for him, even if he would have to almost kill himself along the way.
 
It was difficult to understand and cope with the realities of this sickness, and for quite a while Tristan was in a state of shock. He watched Adrian breaking out in a clammy sweat, the ragged breaths he was forced to take, for some while quite sure that he was quite simply going to pass out from the effort of attempting to breathe. He was somewhat panicked, despite the fact that this had been brewing for some time, building up to this crescendo from the outset. He himself was struggling to maintain decent oxygen levels, although he was just about managing to keep himself minorly under control. The second he was asked for some water, he was off and running for a glass and the sink.

His return almost culminated in him spilling the water all over himself and Adrian, but years of technical sport had thaankfully given him a flair for evasive action, as well as maneuverability. He came to an abrupt halt, gently handing the glass over, unwittingly holding it steady so that Adrian didn't spill it himself. "I reckon you need to sleep now, but seriously, you need to go to a doctor - and soon. Either we call this expedition off and go back home to do it, or we find one here." He was well aware that Adrian wouldn't want to make a fuss, and would definitely want to be discreet, but there was only a certain amount of leeway that Tristan was prepared to give. He could have a day or two to prepare himself as they made the journey back home, or else he would have the anonymity of seeing a foreign doctor. It was his choice.
 
Adrian hated these types of things. He felt so weak and stupid for making a fuss, and especially when he saw how worried Tristan were. He wanted to kill himself in timesl ike these, mostly because he loved Tristan so much and seeing him fussing about like this made Adrian's heart ache with pain and regret. He closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure, but he couldn't help his heart from pounding, and he felt like he was going to fall apart. He wanted to cry but he couldn't, so he just sat there and waited. For what, he didn't know. He just didn't know anymore. He just wanted to fall down and never get up again, but his body wouldn't let anything happen. He just sat there, still like a doll, as if his breath had stopped.

He allowed Tristan to help him with drinking, and he looked up at the other male with sad eyes. "Tristan... they'll lock me away into a cell and I'll never get to see you again... because with what I've done, I'm a danger to myself. They'll keep an eye on me 24 hours every day and I won't have any freedom. I'll be tied down to some bed in a white room and have to stay there for years just because they believe that I can't do things myself..." Adrian was tearing up just at the thought. After his past, he was terrified of hospitals. He didn't want to get admitted to the psychological ward. He didn't want to go away from a life into a closed-off space with people crazy just like himself. He wouldn't fit in there, because of how he is. No, he would just sit there and feel guilty about what he had done, and then he could never get out of there ever again in his life.
 
Tristan didn't really know what to say, and as a result he was unable to maintain his kind and soft approach. He instead turned back to his somewhat harsh exterior self, knowing full well that Adrian probably wouldn't react terribly well. "Now you really are being melodramatic. You're not insane, so even if someone did want to lock you up, they couldn't. As long as you make the effort to recover, no one will do anything but try to help you." He paused for breaath before continuing in his speech, "You can't go on wallowing like this, and I think you know it. You're just scared of change." Who wasn't? Anyone, even of robust mind found dramatic change terrifying, and for those suffering it was even more magnified. "Just know that if you don't try, then I'll have no choice but to get you sectioned. You're a danger to yourself like this."

He couldn't regret his somewhat hard line, only feel a little sorrow that it had to come to this. He was at least trying to give Adrian a choicr, though he doubted he would see it in quite the same way. He moved to sit with Adrian, unsure if he would be receptive to his attempts to comfort him, coming in the form of embracing arms. "Please don't hate me." Tristan knew that he might incite resentment in his lover, but it was something he would take in order to save his life. Adrian would not last much longer, and it wouldn't be surprising if he was hospitalised in the short term, if only to enable high calorie tube feeds. Only a doctor could say for sure though, so long as his heart didn't give out.
 
Adrian didn't say anything. He clung to Tristan as the male pleaded for Adrian not to hate him. He began crying again. He didn't know what to do. "Please... I want you to save me..." He said, clinging to Tristan's shirt. "I don't want... to go to some doctor or to some psychological ward, I want to be with you... I want to stay with you all the time... I can only fight when you're here... I ate just a minute ago because of you..." Adrian looked up at Tristan with glassy eyes, his expression sad. "I... I know it's selfish but... I-I can't fight for my own sake... and you're the only thing keeping me up... so until I learn to take good care of myself, won't you allow me to be just a little bit selfish and rely on my love for you to save me?" His words were fragile, and tears were welling in his eyes. His hands were shaking, his bony, weak hands that he'd become so familiar with. He wanted them gone, out of his life.

He didn't blame Tristan for being harsh. "Let's just... get away from here. From France. I hate it here, to be honest..." Adrian said as he looked down. "But you looked so happy so I didn't want to ruin it for you..." He looked up at Tristan again. "L-let's go home. I want to try... but I want it to be with you. If my situation is worsened, it's okay to take me to a hospital... but until that time, won't you let me fight for my love for you?" He felt horrible for his selfish desires, and he looked down shamefully, his lip quivering. "I-I'm sorry." He immediately said when this thought crossed and he ducked his head as if waiting for a punch. He hated everything about being what he was like. And he wanted to just find that one thing keeping him up, just to get him started... because he couldn't do it for himself just yet.
 
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