~Achilles~
I should have realized something was wrong sooner. It had been three weeks since the disastrous dinner and just as long since Xander had acted like his usual self. As winter thawed I had expected that Xander and I would be seeing each other more often, trying out different teas while curling up by the fire and that Xander would model his favourite line of designer thermal onesies.
Instead, Xander was distant, cancelling our last two date nights and still apologizing for the dinner. I almost last my patience after the third time he brought it up saying he was taking it harder than me. He'd visibly shrunken, only apologizing more and it had shaken me enough that I told him it was okay and I didn't blame him.
I barely saw him eat, or drink blood, and when we did spend the night together he kept tossing and turning in his sleep. Spending the night together didn't consist of anything other than sleep. I was getting frustrated but whenever I asked Xander what was wrong he would just say he was having a busy week. Eventually, in the past week he'd stop seeing me altogether. Whenever I'd ask to go over to his place he would refuse, saying he was tired or that he was busy.
But he'd never done that before and my irritation turned to growing concern. After a week of strangely stoic messages from Xander I used my spare key to go to his apartment. I'd messaged him the day before that I was coming over that evening no matter what.
Once I got into his unit, it took me a moment to realize what was wrong. The place was entirely spotless, obscenely clean. And when I walked into the kitchen Xander was on his knees scrubbing the floor with a cleaning fluid that had an extremely strong scent.
He looked up from the floor as though seeing me for the first time. His eyes were red shot,wide, and full of tears. Slowly, Xander stood up, wearing an unflattering baggy t shirt and loose shorts. Somehow in the week since I'd seen him, he'd lost weight. Or, maybe that had been happening all along and it was only apparent now.
His voice was quiet, "I tried to clean for you, in case you came over, but I don't know." I watched in horror as he started crying without making any sound. Tears just fell from his eyes, as he stood there almost hunched over. Nothing at all like the excitable, exuberant Xander that I knew. "I didn't want you to see me like this. Sometimes, I just get so sad, I didn't...know how to tell you,"
I touched Xander's shoulders, "Woah, let's just slow down. I'm so confused. What is going on?" But even then, I was putting the pieces together. That small, invisible distance that I felt between Xander and I, it was this, this abyss.
He was looking at me, and sniffling, rubbing at his face. "I can't explain it to you. I don't know how." His voice was broken, words slipping and sliding together but not making any sense.
"Xander, let's sit down, okay?"
"But, Iâ I haven't done anything all week. I've just gone to class, cancelled my office hours. The least I could do was clean the apartment and I couldn't even do that. I'm a fucking mess, no wonder your family hates you cause of me."
I guided Xander over to the couch, and went into his blood fridge, making sure to grab O negative.
I brought the packet but Xander just looked even more sad, "I'm not hungry."
"When was the last time you ate, huh?" I said, mapping out his body with my fingers, feeling that his chest was thinner, noticing his wrists were bony and his collarbones far too obvious. I curved a hand over his back, rubbing. My mate was suffering and I was just sitting here unable to do anything.
Xander crossed his leg on the couch, wrapping his arms around his middle. "I don't know. I've just been in my bed all week, I get sad, and then all I want to do is cry. And I can't stop thinking. I just keep thinking. It all goes back to Corey. It doesn't matter how much time passes. It goes back to him and I can't think and I just feel soâ" Xander was squeezing his sides. "I feel so disgusting, and dirty, and ugly." He tapped his chest, "I feel so ugly inside and I just wish I could fix it, and start over on a clean slate. And the only thing I can do is clean my apartment but then everything gets clean and then it's just me and my thoughts and I can't stop feeling bad. And I'm a terrible boyfriend. When I said I was damaged goods, it's cause I'm not honest like you. I'mâ" Xander let out a violent sob, still hugging himself. "I'm awful."
"Being depressed doesn't make you awful." I tried to comfort him, wanting him to look at me, but his eyes were fixed on some point far beyond me.
But then he did see me, green eyes flat and uncompromising while his lips were flat in anger, "I'm not depressed. I just get sad sometimes, okay? They're not the same."
I saw the dark bags under Xander's eyes, the sad pout of his mouth and the stubborn slant to his shoulders. He honestly didn't see it. "Xander, have you even left your house in the past week?"
"Yes!" He said in frustration, "I went to my classes, and I taught. So I'm fine, I do what I need to do, Achilles."
"Don't be like this," I pleaded with him, moving closer and touching Xander's waist. "Imagine if I stopped talking to you for a week and you came to see me and I looked like I hadn't slept, and I was telling you I was a terrible person."
Xander hung his head, lower lip trembling, "My brain just gets stuck on all these things that shouldn't bother me. It's my fault. The thoughts go away eventually, it just takes some time."
I pulled Xander against me, hugging him as his head fell into the crook of my shoulder. "It's not your fault, Xander." He was crying quietly into my shoulder. "I'll help you, okay? I love you so much. And, seeing you like this âFuck. Please Xander, can you see a therapist? Or, it's a psychiatrist for things like this, right? I'll pay for it and organize everything if you can't. Just please, you should be able to talk to someone, and do something. You can't lose yourself like this. I can'tâ" I lost my voice to the emotion, knowing I needed to be strong for Xander. "I can't put you back together again. Please, talk to someone."
Xander was mumbling against my skin, "Maybe I'll go back to the rec centre."
I let out a mirthless laugh, stepping away from Xander and cupping his face with my hands. "Oh no, this is beyond the rec centre. Let me help you find somewhere that is actually equipped to handle this."
#
I spent about an hour looking for a psychiatrist clinic, before Xander reluctantly admitted he had a place in mind in case things ever got out of hand. He handed me a small slip of paper. It had an address on it, with a few doctors names there. He'd handed the card to me and said he was going to change.
When I checked up on him he was laying on his bed with his shirt off and his pants around his thighs. "I don't know if I want to go." He mumbled. "I can't find anything to wear."
I walked to his dresser, picking out some pants, a t-shirt and finding socks in a drawer. I undressed Xander as he lay there staring at the ceiling. Once he was in his underwear I noticed a distinct smell. Soon, I realized it was coming from him.
"Xander, how about you shower before we go?"
Xander's eyes shot to me, instantly filling with tears, "Do I smell?"
"You don't have to cry, Xander." I tried to be gentle.
"Oh my God, I smell." Xander whispered in absolute horror. He shot up off the bed, crawling to the other side, "I'll take a shower."
"I'm a wolf Xander. I have an inhuman sense of smell, moving across the bed doesn't really change anything." Xander only started looking more upset, touching his neck and twisting his necklace between his fingers. He snatched his clothes from off the bed and ran into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him.
I laid down on Xander's sheets while waiting and realized I should change the sheets. I stripped the sheets quickly, picking up any other unclean articles of clothing and tossing everything into the washing machine. Next, I went to Xander's linens closet, choosing a pale grey bed sheet.
I fought valiantly against the rounded corners of the streets, stretching in order to get everything contained before fluffing out Xander's pillows and then vacuuming the room for good measure. By the time I was finished Xander came out into the bedroom wearing a towel and a green bonnet. He already looked healthier.
Xander sat down on the bed, touching the fresh sheets. "Thank you." He said in a thick voice. "For changing the sheets."
Xander took a bottle of lotion off of his dresser and began lathering his feet and legs, working up his body. It was lightly scented, the smell of vanilla extract wafting through the room. It was terribly quiet as I watched Xander choose an outfit after slipping on a pair of boxer briefs. The fit was sinful, Xander clearly hadn't lost weight there.
He chose an unflattering pair of dark Nike sweats and a darker quarter zip sweater. Xander always wore colourful clothing combinations but this was the most conventional thing I'd seen him wear.
Xander finally took off his bonnet and he took some kind of hair gel and a brush. He smoothed his hair into a sleek low bun. It took him a few minutes but I waited patiently.
Eventually, Xander turned to me, seeming shy. "Do I look okay?"
"You always look amazing." I moved next to him, kissing his cheek.
He smiled, "Okay, Achilles." Xander exhaled deeply, "I think I'm ready."
#
The clinic was in the next city over and it would take almost an hour to get there. Xander closed his eyes and turned to the side, staring blankly out the window.
The ride was painfully quiet and once we got to the unobtrusive building, Xander got out quickly. He seemed to know his way around the building and once we entered there was a gate with a woman sitting behind it like some kind of concierge.
"Identification?"
Xander took out an ID from his wallet and then said something in what had to be French. "He's with me."
The woman let us through and the room spilled into a reception area with yet another secretary. Xander said he'd called for an emergency appointment with a Dr. Andoh.
Xander signed some forms, was given a diagnostic sheet and then we went to wait in a comfortable looking room with a fireplace, art on the walls, and an arm chair across from a couch. It looked cozy but Xander percged down on the edge of the couch seeming uncomfortable.
"Do you want me to stay?" I asked Xander, squeezing his knee.
"No." He said quickly. "It's better if you don't. I'll take a taxi home, thanks for bringing me."
I started to argue with him before the door opened and the doctor walked in. He had strong features with closely cropped white hair and a well kept white beard. The whiteness of his hair probably stood out because of the darkness of his skin. Xander and him greeted one another in what sounded similar to what he spoke with his mom. I felt like he'd called it Tree or something.
Xander's voice was flat and inflectionless, "This is my boyfriend, Achilles. He was just leaving."
"I'll wait in the waiting room." I said, looking at Xander, "I don't mind waiting."
Xander frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay."
I walked out of the room, feeling like I was abandoning him. But, I couldn't do anything for him as it was. So, I tried to let it go. I looked back one last time, still seeing that Xander was hunched over and fidgeting with his fingers, although every other part of him was entirely still.
He looked over at me, and I stopped walking, going back over to him. But, he was shaking his head in tiny little jerks, "It's okay." He whispered.
"Xander, are you sure?"
Then Xander gave me a little wave before I finally left the room.
#
Overall thoughts?
Do you guys feel like I'm overwhelming you with chapters that are too frequent?