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ravetillyoucry · 1 year ago

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PUPARIA

Chapter 14 - The Place Where He Inserted The Knife

WARNING ⚠️ this chapter contains in depth discussion of disordered eating , please feel free to skip out if you think it necessary to.

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"I mean..." Jeanne winced a little as he spoke, his eyes fixated on the tea in front of him he stirred, "It's... It could be a possibility."

The shifter groaned in both despair and defeat, the absolute need for his theory to be validated being his top priority.

"Come on," He pouted, "I don't see any other explanation for all of this." Hosah leant in closer across the table for two, his eyebrows angled down as his eyes stared wide in anticipation for a response which he actually wanted to hear.

Jeanne shrugged, "I don't know, give it more time. They've only been outwardly pestering you for what, two, three weeks now?"

"So what, you just want me to sit and wait for it to escalate?" There was a certain kind of distress in Hosah's voice, one partly mixed with disbelief.

"That's what the police force told you, no?" Suddenly, Jeanne's blunt and nonchalant attitude had become extremely aggravating.

This wasn't the place to argue, though. The tea house was somewhere Hosah and his superior frequented, despite the shifters blatant preference towards coffee. Even though he never actually bought anything, the little hole in the wall parlour was a very enjoyable place to be, with the light coloured decor and pretty rococo aesthetics, it was certainly not the kind of place you'd want to be having verbal battles in.

Instead, Hosah slumped back into his intricately carved wooden chair in absolute defeat. The reactions he'd received from the proposal that the whole 'stalker situation' was just a red herring had made him doubt himself far more than he already did. If he didn't feel like a crazy person before, he definitely did now.

Sit and wait until your life is at risk. That was the advice the police force had given Hosah and his team when they brought all of the evidence of extensive stalking to their door. They were working alongside the agency on these strings of missing people and murders, surely they would know far too well how dangerous this individual was.

The shifter had seen it happen hundreds of times before. People just like himself would go to those who were supposed to protect them, only to be turned away because the threat isn't serious enough, and almost every time he'd seen it happen, those in his situation would be dead by the end of it. Hosah thought it'd be different for him. Having working in law, he thought maybe, just maybe, he'd be taken more seriously, but he wasn't. 'Sure, they've been inside of your home, but they've never made a threat against your life' was essentially what the shifter was told.

"I think you should request some time off," Jeanne's eyes finally met Hosah's as he spoke, "Go home, see your family, spend some time away from.." He waved his hands by the side of his head, although it didn't really help convey the message he was trying to send, "..all of this."

"That would be admitting defeat."

Jeanne took a moment before laughing in confusion, "If that's how you look at it." He shrugged.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of the tearoom being a complete contrast to the previous weeks of the detective's lives. Despite this, Jeanne still looked like there was something on his mind. Something itching away at him, something that he clearly wanted to say, but was holding himself back for whatever reason.

"So.." The senior detective began, "You've moved into Edward's apartment now, right?"

Although the question seemed normal and mundane enough, the look on the almost ghostly pale detective's face said otherwise, as if he was bracing for impact from whatever Hosah would respond with.

"Yep." The contrastingly warm toned and tanned detective sitting opposite to Jeanne answered bluntly.

Hosah and Jeanne couldn't have looked less alike from each other. Complete polar opposites, the shifter's senior being particularly boy-ish, with rounded features and a short stature, his hair so black that in direct sunlight, it almost looked as if it were purple, distinctly standing out against his cool toned, icy white, almost porcelain skin. Hosah however, was a completely different story.

He had always been the darkest in his family, a trait his father told him must've been passed down from his late uncle, and everyone always pegged him as just a few years older than he really was with his facial bone structure being so sharp it made him look sort of sunken in. The people surrounding them in the tea house were probably perplexed to see such a sight, two individuals, nothing alike from each other on the surface, but with so many similarities and differences that perfectly balanced them out, a formula for the most ideal friendship.

"Are you happy?" Jeanne spoke, his expression having shifted to a much more relaxed, but still serious look.

The question caught the shifter completely off guard, expecting a 'Oh, what's it like?', or a 'Hows it going for you?'. Whether he was happy or not was not something he'd really thought much about, leaving him stumped for a moment as he considered all the different factors.

Teddy was sweet. He was funny. He had a lot of interesting stories to tell, and the more he let Hosah into his life before they'd met, the more he wanted to know. He was thoughtful and could always tell when something was up, although given the shifter's perpetual inability to hide his emotions, just about anyone could tell when he was riled up by something.

Sure, the apartment was in a constant state of borderline hoarder levels of clutter, it wasn't in the nicest of areas right along the outskirts of the city, the neighbours banged on all night either throwing parties into the early hours of the morning or seemingly rearranging their entire interior layout every single day without fail, but Teddy made up for it in his presence.

Just being in the general vicinity of the read headed man was enough for Hosah, as he carried a sort of glow that couldn't be seen by the human eye, creating a subconscious sense of ease and protection to the people he surrounded himself with. Hosah thought himself to be lucky to end up in such a situation. Forced proximity with a guy that fit his type to a T, it was all too perfect, like a romance novel or an idealistic dream.

".. Yeah." Hosah finally responded, although his answer was clear the second he began to really consider the question as a smile unknowingly spread wide across his face.

-~-

The shifter had gotten so carried away during his break, he'd almost completely forgotten the date and his allotted appointment time. September nineteenth at two in the afternoon. Fuck.

With barely a minute to spare, Hosah headed straight to the clinic, practically running from the tea house to the station as to not turn up late and make a bad first impression.

As he stood, sweating palms from growing nerves clinging to the strap hanger, Hosah came to the realisation that this was his first time in weeks being away from Teddy for so long.

Just as he'd been told barely a week into their friendship, Teddy had a fear of being alone in the city, an irrational fear of getting himself lost, a situation that would not be helped or avoided by company but still provided comfort either way, and this phobia had began to rub off on the shifter.

Standing in solitude, Hosah could no longer think about whatever mundane tasks the people around him were getting up to after their shared journey, only the fact that any of them could be out to get him in some way. As much as he'd liked to tell himself that his situation wasn't all that scary, he had to admit he'd been becoming uncharacteristically paranoid lately.

It started with hearing his name in crowds, or thinking something in his head and hearing his exact thought, verbatim, repeated by someone in his surroundings, then it grew to convincing himself people were staring from all angles, that they were tailing him on his walk home, that they were setting up trackers on his things as he'd get up to use the bathroom of a cafe.

Hosah knew there was room for chance and coincidence, that he wasn't thinking straight and was seeing the worst in people, but who could blame him for thinking in such a way after reading almost a hundred hand written letters detailing his daily routine?

In that moment, all the shifter wanted to do was get off at the next stop and run until his legs gave out, but instead he just froze up, standing as still as he possibly could, just as he did all of those years ago. That was probably his biggest flaw. There was no fight or flight instinct within him, only freeze. And freeze was exactly what he did, time and time again. As much as he hated himself for it, it was all he knew.

From that moment onward, the shifters brain was entirely in autopilot. His mind so crowded by all of the different possibilities and outcomes from every step he took blocking out the sound of the real world, making him dangerously unaware of his surroundings.

By a miracle, Hosah had managed to find his way to the clinic without being harmed. The waiting room was a pristine white from floor to ceiling, unlike his usual doctors office. The only thing that stood out against the minimalist decor was a sort of memorial display at the very front where a TV or a children's bead maze would usually be.

The lady in the portrait shone, clearly a part of some kind of orchestra as she held an instrument Hosah couldn't quite identify. Without even noticing, he'd gotten up to read the plaque, getting a closer look at the picture that hung proudly in the centre of the reception.

Kathleen 'Kat' Fatola-Aronov , beloved wife and mother, taken from us too soon. June 1st 1965 - December 24th 2005.

The lady in the portrait and Hosah shared the same birthday, he noted.

The display saddened the shifter as the console table beneath the portrait had its entire surface covered with fresh flowers and cards. He didn't dare to read them, already feeling as though he were peering into someone else's life, being almost as invasive as the stalker that followed him so closely.

Grief was not something Hosah was well acquainted with, but standing here and seeing the memory of this woman he didn't even know existed until walking into the clinic, he still felt a sense of sadness, but also one of relief and gratefulness. Kat's smile in the portrait was a very bright one, a look of pure love and joy captured to beautifully. She was a very pretty lady, her hair styled in the classically timeless 1930's finger waves and her makeup done in a similar aesthetic. Hosah had always had an appreciation for this era of fashion, so seeing it done so perfectly and in such a beautiful way aided in his sympathy for the truly unknown woman.

"That's my late wife." A loud, baritone voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a man no younger than fourty five stood almost directly behind the shifter.

Hosah wasn't really sure what to say, too taken aback by the sudden voice, only able to mutter a quiet 'I'm sorry'.

The man behind him was tall, but not quite as tall as Teddy. His figure was remarkably rectangular, his shoulders as broad as his feet were big, although his legs were long and slim in contrast. The badge on his coat read 'Doctor Aronov'. This was the man Hosah had come to see.

Rather than dragging on the topic, Doctor Aronov held out a wide, coarse hand, "You must be Detective Seung-Levi. I'm so pleased to be able to speak with you."

The way he phrased it, it sounded much more like a casual chat over coffee than a therapy session.

"It's just Levi, Seung is a middle name." Hosah corrected the doctor. Weird. Nobody had ever made that mistake before. In fact, nobody, including himself, really took notice of his middle name. Aside from his mother who picked it, of course.

"Ah, apologies, Detective Levi," The doctor began to walk away, encouraging Hosah to do the same, as he clarified, "Follow me this way,"

The clinic was weird, if anything. There was a front desk at the reception, but nobody sat at it. The overhead lights didn't buzz or have the yellow eyesore hue that was such a common factor amongst these kinds of settings. The furniture was all pristine, not a single sign of wear and tear on any aspect of the waiting area at all. It was almost as if it were a blank canvas, the only kinds of colour sticking out being Kat's memorial and all the flowers left out for her.

Doctor Aronov's office was no different, a glass table without a single smudge sat in the middle, with two large, leather beige arm chairs at either side. Hosah took a seat as the doctor's expectant eyes silently offered him one.

The shifter knew what to expect as he sat. An hour or so of his brain being put under a microscope as someone pushed and probed for more detail on all of his least favourite memories just so they could piece together an answer for why Hosah was the way he was. He'd always particularly hated these kinds of things. Physically being poked and prodded at was one thing, but his mind was an entirely different story. Living inside of his head was his only escape, and by any means necessary would it be a place where he and only he could go.

"Just to make sure we're on the same page," The doctor traced his finger along the bookshelf behind him before seemingly finding the correct file, "Why do you think you're here?"

The question was stupid. He knew why Hosah had come, it wasn't from his own fruition, he knew Hosah's personal doctor had called and arranged for the two to have an appointment together, which is probably why it took the shifter so long to come up with a response.

"I.. can't gain any weight, only loose it. And my doctor thinks it's more a mental problem than a physical one." That was the least of it.

In the time between his last check up and his appointment today, Hosah had spent a lot of time thinking it over. Doctor White was completely right in thinking such a thing, the shifter's attitude and behaviours were concerning at best, and completely self destructive at worst. It was true, there was probably something mentally wrong with Hosah that made him act this way around food and general eating patterns.

"Do you agree? Do you think it's a mental problem?" The Doctor's continued prolonged eye contact had become increasingly uncomfortable by this point.

Hosah wasn't sure if he was supposed to say his answer out loud.

"I mean..." The shifter debated whether he should tell the truth or not for a few more seconds, "At first I was really defensive, I'm an almost thirty year old man, not really the type of person you'd expect to have an.." He really didn't want to finish the sentence. Saying it out loud would make it all real.

"An eating disorder?" Doctor Aronov completed the sentence for him, with a sort of sickly sweet smile on his face as he said it, as if he found pleasure in handing out these kinds of diagnoses.

Hosah shrugged, "I guess so."

"You see," The doctor started in a sigh,

"We have this idea of eating disorders, that it's about wanting to look a certain way, or that it's an inherently female problem, but it's rarely about intentional weight loss at all, most people find themselves in these kinds of states because it gives them a sense of control. They can't control the events happening to them in their daily lives, but what they eat, that's what they have full control over. Most don't even realise they're doing it. It's not always the case, but it's, more often than not, how it manifests."

Hosah was looked at expectantly, but he had nothing to say. What Doctor Aronov had just described felt like an invasive look at the inside of the shifters brain, putting the parts he didn't even understand himself perfectly into words.

As if his privacy didn't feel violated enough with all that had been going on, this just had to be the icing on the cake.

He was right, through and through, every word described Hosah's experience almost exactly. No control. No realisation that he'd even been doing it. Over the past week or so, he hadn't really been counting the days as they'd all been blending together, since his last appointment, Hosah had taken to psychoanalysing his interactions with food. When Teddy made him dinner and he just couldn't eat it no matter how badly he wanted to. When he'd find himself swirling the same loaded fork around and moving everything across his plate to make it look touched, only to have not had a single mouthful. It was all too much.

By this point, the shifter had gone eerily silent, not even a breath could be heard as he'd been holding it in, his shoulders tense as he gripped each arm of the chair as if he were going to fall right off of it. Hosah's clammy hands were sure to imprint on the leather as he had his soundless breakdown.

"I know self-disclosure isn't always preferred to share so sparingly by people in my field, but, you can't always tell just by looking at someone what they could be going through." Hosah tried his best to listen, but honestly, his ears rang with a sharp buzz, making it hard to hear anything at all.

Still, although the shifter remained with his eyes fixed on the doctor's pointed dress shoes rather on at least his face, he continued,

"Kat, the lady with the memorial you were looking at, she's my wife. Was my wife, at least. She seemed to be healthy and happy on the outside, but even though her weight was normal, it still got the best of her. She tried to get help on her own but these kinds of recovery facilities, going impatient and what-not, that was reserved for what they consider emergencies,"

Doctor Aronov's slim square glasses began to fog up, his voice much more glum and serious,

"She suffered a heart failure, since she hadn't been eating right, or, really eating at all. She didn't look like she had an eating disorder, on the outside she seemed so... Nobody knew. I didn't even notice until I had no time left to help her. That's why I went back to school and chose to specialise in this particular range of disorders. People are suffering even when they're not physically showing it. And I wanted to help them. Will you let me help you, Hosah?"

Hosah could barely think through what he'd just been told before he found himself nodding.

"Do.. Do you think one particular event, just- just one, can change the outcome of someone's life, dictating how they think and all the choices they make, forever?" The words poured out of the shifters mouth like a broken faucet, unable to stop himself even as his eyes stayed locked on the floor under him.

Doctor Aronov laughed, although it wasn't as comforting as he'd probably hoped it'd be, "That's usually what happens, yes. You think one event in particular is influencing you now, to get to this point?" he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

The doctor was middle aged, maybe a little older, clean shaven with a noticeable, some sort of slavic, accent. His hair had begun to go grey, although his head seemed to still be full of it, as it was gelled back similar to how it'd be commonly styled in the 1930's, almost in matching fashion with how his late wife used to present herself. A particularly vintage looking couple, despite it being the 2000's now.

Speaking to another man about this kind of thing was definitely uncomfortable. Hosah wasn't sure whether he even wanted to continue on, as he didn't want to feel emasculated any more than just the event itself had made him feel ever since the day it happened. He'd already started now, and if he didn't elaborate in the moment, he'd just have to do it later.

".. Something happened to me when I was, what, maybe sixteen, but probably more like fifteen, I... It's always playing back in my head. When I close my eyes. When I hear a certain sound, smell something in particular, when the lights are that specific yellow shade, seeing a similar interior layout, I feel like I'm always back in that room." Hosah began, his hands now in tight, almost shaking fists as his eyes became blurry as they glossed over with a tear.

-~-

When the shifter stepped outside of the clinic, the particularly windy autumn day being as chilly as ever as he'd forgotten his big coat at the apartment, his eyes were instantly met with the familiar yellow vehicle, a man he could recognise in even the most crowded of rooms stood outside of it, waving him over to come get in alongside him.

Doing as he was told, Hosah half ran to the car, fighting the urge to just dive straight into Teddy's arms, shrinking down in an instant to just the size of about his thumb and a half, but instead, he settled for an extended pat on the shoulder from the significantly taller figure.

"How'd it go?" Teddy asked, opening the door for his roommate like the gentleman he was.

Hosah wished the vehicle was already moving at this point so he could show his disdain for the question through a simple yet effective tuck and roll,

"As good as anything like that can get, I guess," He didn't really want to talk about it.

Although Hosah's gaze had long shifted to the mundane view out of the window, Teddy's eyes stayed fixed at the smaller figure, unable to look away as he feared the shifter would disappear upon doing so. It was hard to not reach out and run his hands through the freshly cut and bleached hair as he did once before.

The clouds were a particularly dull grey, preparing for a melancholic down pour, quite fitting for the shifter's current situation. He couldn't stick to one thought, as his mind bounced from question to question, overthinking every little aspect of, what he assumed to be, his unremarkably normal behaviour.

Particularly, he thought of all the things he could've done differently. Maybe if he did one, tiny, meaningless thing differently, he wouldn't be this way. Things would be better. Or, on the other hand, there was the bleak idea that no matter what he did or what choices he made, he'd always have ended up this way, in this taxi, with Teddy.

It didn't take long before the two arrived back at Teddy's apartment. Or, their apartment now. The thought made him sick. It truly was theirs. All Hosah's stuff was here now, he was going to officially move out as soon as Jules got her shit together with the contract, and it was terrifying. Hosah had never been in a real relationship, not that this was anything more than two people making the best out of what they had in their current situation, and the commitment of actually, really sharing a space was truly nauseating.

Quite frankly, after the day Hosah had just had, he couldn't take it anymore. The sudden urge to retch sent him straight to the bathroom, no time to shut the door behind him, as, the lack of, his stomach contents came up and out into the toilet bowl.

Teddy followed closely behind, panic in his speedy steps and stuttering voice, "Woah- woah, what's wrong?"

"Just.." Hosah could barely get his words out as his insides kept bubbling back up his throat, "Just coming down with something."

If coming to terms with the everlasting effects of his trauma counted as a disease, Hosah was bedridden with it.

Instead of leaving him to it as a part of him wished Teddy did, the taller of the two stayed by his side, sitting on the cold tiled floor beside him, brushing the ash blond hair out of his face as he went back and fourth between retching and endlessly salivating. Gross. Teddy didn't deserve to see him like this, it was far too humiliating. At least his hoarse and hushed 'It's okay'-s were quite comforting.

"I... I need a bath." Was all Hosah could muster with the mix of saliva and stomach bile still lingering in the back of his throat.

Teddy didn't even pause for breath as he instantly turned toward the tub he was leaning against half a second earlier, preparing it for the shifter as soon as the words had left his mouth.

If he weren't in such a vulnerable state, both physically and emotionally, Hosah wouldn't have even dreamed of asking such a thing from his roommate, but alas, he was in that kind of situation where all he could do was reach his arms out and practically cry for someone's, anyone's, attention and affection.

"Can you help me wash my hair again?" The shifter asked, his words clear, without hesitation. It was this kind of direct request from his roommate that Teddy could not deny.

Hosah had come to learn to not be embarrassed when naked in front of others. He'd had countless support workers insist he needed help with washing himself all throughout his teenage years, and saying he was sexually inexperienced would've just been an outward lie. The shifter really wasn't insecure because he was out in the open, because he was physically in a very vulnerable situation that could easily turn sour if Teddy so wished it to, but more self conscious about the state his body was in, his ribs poking out around his chest all the way until his stomach con-caved, his hips sticking out as if they were out of place.

At his best, he looked like he'd never had a full meal in his life, and at his worst, he looked like he'd been addicted to meth since birth. Although both were fairly accurate, exaggerated but not entirely false, they weren't exactly desirable things to be compared to. Hosah wondered if his roommate were disgusted with him, if he felt just as nauseous as he did seeing the shifter throw his guts up when seeing him without a protective layer of clothing hiding his true form.

Deciding he'd add it to the long list of things to dwell on, Hosah got into the water without a second thought, enjoying the hot steam as it seeped into his pores, filling every gaping hole in his body with the warm, comforting feeling of the slow boiling of his own body. It was piping hot, just as he liked it. He wondered if Teddy had noticed that fact when bathing in the wooden bowl before.

The fact Teddy did all of this without question, without any hesitation, without judgement, was a comforting one. That's just the person he is, though. A caretaker. He'd see something he could nurse back to health and he'd jump at the opportunity to. A little dehumanising at times, but over all a good trait to have, especially when it applies to the shifter.

"Tell me a story," Hosah requested, his head leaning into the gentle massaging of the soap in his hair, Teddy's fingers moving in perfectly synchronised circular motions.

Teddy hadn't spoken much since they'd gotten back, which was a shame, since he had such an enjoyable voice and general way of speaking, "What kind of story?" he asked.

"About Italy. Tell me about Italy," The delicate kneading of Hosah's scalp was almost sending him straight to sleep.

"Well," Teddy started, "During the summer, when I wasn't at school, I'd stay on my grandparents farm. It was like three or four miles out from the nearest little town, so there would just be great long stretches of pastures to bike down, I'd take a book or two and me and my sister would go down to the river, once we'd finished all of our work, of course."

Hosah sighed dreamily, the steam fogging up every mirror and every window in the room, the only lighting being the little lamp that sat on top of the toilet and the overhead hallway light creeping in under the door frame,

"Sounds nice." The shifter added.

"It was nice," Teddy had paused moving his hand to recollect the memory, "I could probably find that river again with my eyes closed. We'd swim when the current was gentle, but usually we'd just sit and read by it in silence. A good sort of silence though. Just.. quietly enjoying each others company."

"Reminds me of my cabin. The one I told you about." Hosah turned his head to face his roommate as he began, "I'd be willing to compromise if Colorado isn't really your thing. Anywhere out of this city is good, as long as there's somewhere I can paint and fish."

"We'll see when it comes down to it," Teddy mumbled, his hand gently guiding the shifters head to tilt back as he rinsed the soap out of his hair, combing through the short length with his fingers as he did so.

They could both probably get used to this life. As long as everything going on outside of the apartment were to disappear, at least.

#g/t #giant tiny #g/t ocs #gianttiny #giant/tiny #oc hosah #oc teddy #g/t writing #g/t author #Puparia_tag #I wasss gonna let you know Hosah’s deep dark secret life event butttttt #Idk i feel like the therapy he has shouldn’t be shared in full. Invasive. Just the parts I find relevant enough. Plus it’s too soon #He needs to admit it to Teddy and Also Us for us to know 🤤#Sorryyy maybe next time 😈

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