A month passed and then another and it seemed like nothing was changing or getting better. The only positive that could be taken from the situation was that he didn't seem to be getting any worse either. Otabek saw him most days, and every time they would have the same argument about eating that would end in tears (usually Yuri's, although a lot of the time Otabek would end up crying with him) and then they'd make up and Otabek would forget to make Yuri eat, too distracted by his distress. Today was no different- Yuri had refused dinner while Otabek had been around and they'd fought viciously over it for about half an hour until Yuri had thrown himself into Otabek's arms, where he was now sobbing inconsolably. Today was different, though, because Yuri hadn't even been able to drink any water. He said that he was afraid to swallow in case there were calories in his mouth.
'I thought you said you wanted to recover,' Otabek muttered, more afraid than ever before with this new development.
'I did. Now I think that's scarier than dying,' Yuri confessed through his tears. 'I'd probably kill myself, so I die either way. At least this way I die knowing I wasn't a quitter.'
'For Pete's sake,' Otabek growled, letting go. 'I'm so sick of you treating this like an achievement.'
'I'm not! I'm just trying to make light of a really shitty situation.'
'It's worse than shitty- you know that, right?'
Yuri scowled and sat down on his bed, crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly and ducking away when Otabek tried to hug him. He didn't want to be touched. He was having a terrible body image day and it felt like the fat was crawling across his bones like maggots, making his skin itch so much that he wanted to tear it away. His new doctor had been trying to convince him that he wasn't fat through pointless exercises such as making him draw an outline of how big he thought he was then standing against it and the doctor would draw around him to show the contrast. There had been a massive difference, but that was hardly surprising given his body dysmorphia. His true outline was still massive anyway. The doctor spent so much time convincing him he wasn't fat that he had begun to go insane- perhaps it might have worked if they'd concentrated their efforts a little more on teaching him that his size didn't matter. He'd rather they addressed his ever-approaching demise rather than his dysmorphia. Despite his inability (for want of effort) to recover, he still maintained the view that he'd rather remain alive. He knew he couldn't have the best of both worlds but dying felt like the lesser of two evils in this case. It also seemed like a more viable option to end his suffering than recovery, since he doubted he would ever be comfortable with himself. Could he really commit himself to all the pain he'd face in the future of looking back at old pictures of himself at his current weight (his lowest ever) and wishing he could be back like that? Was skirting death really worth such a dismal future? He knew he'd done enough lasting damage by now to his internal organs that regardless of whether he recovered or not his life would be considerably shortened. To put a long story short, it was either die within weeks or wait it out and give himself false hope for a future he could never have. What happened if he got even closer to Otabek? That would only break his heart further. And what about his mum? If she thought he was better just because he'd gained weight only for him to die of later complications that would tear her apart. If he died sooner rather than later it would mean everybody got over their grief quicker and could move on with their lives. If he died as a teenager he had basically nothing to lose- no children, no partner, no job. Also, everybody was expecting him to die so they'd be relatively mentally prepared for what lay ahead. He was in the best position to die, statistically speaking. He didn't explain this to Otabek because he knew he'd just get angry and refuse to understand where he was coming from. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone- he was trying to think in their best interests.
'Can we just go five minutes without talking about me dying?' Yuri suggested, doing his best impression of puppy dog eyes to persuade Otabek.
'Fine,' Otabek sighed, so easily taken in. Yuri allowed him to manhandle him into a cuddle, sighing softly and closing his weary eyes to rest for a while. 'Let's talk about something else.'
'Sure. What have you been doing aside from being my guardian angel?'
Otabek smiled at the expression he used to describe him and it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts together so that he could reply.
'Seeing friends mostly. A lot of them are doing exams right now so I actually spend most of my time with you.'
Yuri had been taken out of school indefinitely and all of his exams had been cancelled. That week had been the start of GCSEs and he was missing them with the promise of a resit at one point as accommodation for chronic illness. It was laughable that they thought he'd be around for a resit. He supposed the school was in crap enough a position that they'd ignore him being physically battered by another student in the hope that it would avoid bad press, so they certainly wouldn't care much about his health until he died and they could capitalise off of it to gain the support of the government to invest in them. He thought about other cases of people his age dying- usually their parents made a charity. Would his mum make a charity? She might need something to take her mind away from the grief. She was already taking time off from work to take care of him and he felt more than a little guilty since he was going to die soon anyway- she'd probably end up losing her job, but he didn't think she'd want to work after he died for a while. Was there such thing as bereavement leave? He remembered when Otabek tightened his arms round him that he was supposed to be forgetting about his impending doom. It had just become such a part of his life that he couldn't go more than thirty seconds without thinking about something to do with his anorexia, and even then it was always niggling at some corner of his mind.
'Sorry. Zoned out- what were we talking about again?'
'What I do in my spare time, but it wasn't very exciting.'
'Hmm. Then tell me about what your life was like before you met me.'
'Less eventful in some ways, more chaotic in others,' Otabek didn't mention how he had travelled all the time because he had nothing tying him to one spot. Now he was too afraid to leave the area in case Yuri suddenly took a turn for the worse (or, god forbid, died) and he didn't make it back in time so pay his dues and say goodbye.
'Did you have any boyfriends before me?'
'Ooh, previous partner talk? Now that's serious. Never a boyfriend, although I dated a few people casually. Girls, boys, others...'
'Oh? Would I know anyone?'
'Rafael, actually.'
'Yeah, explain that one to me,' Yuri had picked up on a weird vibe between them right from the start- seeing them kissing had highlighted it, but also Rafael's talk of being sullied had struck a chord with him and it had lain quite forgotten at the back of his mind up until this moment.
'I dated his sister for a while and he tried to split us up. At first he thought he was just being protective then he realised he was into me. His sister never forgave me for that.'
Yuri giggled, very much entertained by this anecdote.
'Okay, that's past lovers sorted out,' He teased and tried to find a new topic. 'That leaves... Oh, you told me once you have family in Kazakhstan and you promised to tell me about it.'
'Right. I mean, you can kind of tell I'm not British. My parents both emigrated from Kazakhstan four years before I was born. They were piss-poor to start with, but then my mum made it kind of big in event planning and my dad's car hire company took off a few years ago.'
'That's pretty cool. My mum's just a typical mum. She was born in Sheffield and moved here because of her job.'
'What's her job?'
'She's a chef.'
'That's pretty cool, too!'
'Not really. She just works at a restaurant.'
'That's why she makes really good food.'
'Yep, though I haven't tasted it recently.'
And just like that, the conversation returned in its cyclic progression to Yuri's eating disorder. It seemed every thought of his revolved around it. He had to move on quickly before he started to get too into his head again.
'What do you want to do with your life?' He knew it was a broad question and he was hoping it would elicit a very long answer so he didn't have to think for a good while.
'Jesus. I don't know... I've always wanted to go into helping people, but that's not an actual job and I didn't get the grades to be a doctor. I'm going to study economics at university.'
'Why didn't you tell me you were going?'
'I'm only going to Reading University, don't worry.'
They both ignored the elephant in the room, namely that it was irrelevant because the way things stood Yuri wasn't going to be around for when Otabek went. He'd been given a maximum of four months, meaning he had about eight weeks at most and even then there was the possibility that he could die at any point. It was just a waiting game now. There was no use in thinking at all about recovering now that he thought about it because it was unlikely he could get better in time to save himself. It would take months of intensive therapy with the right person to persuade him that food was edible and then a good while until he was eating properly again. He refused to be tube fed and the doctor had decided it was a bad idea since he was so adept at purging that he'd just worsen the state of his threat. Her genius idea had been supplementary drinks and very calorie dense foods, but he was wise to his mum's tricks to get him to eat by now and he hadn't eaten at all in the last five days. His binge/purge sessions were getting less and less frequent as the chronic fear of food began to settle over him again, warding him off. He didn't have a hope in hell of saving himself, whether he wanted to or not. Regardless, he was trying to pretend he was normal and that he was going to see his boyfriend off to university.
'I can't wait to go to uni and get myself into crippling debt,' He said, trying to lighten the situation with a little humour.
'Two years' time. That's all you have to last.'
'I can do that. I'm going to go on for years, just you wait.'

Yuri was taken to hospital two weeks later, although more to accommodate him until his time was up, and by that point there wasn't much they could do for him. The doctors called it refeeding syndrome. Basically, his body was so unaccustomed to food that it rejected it. It made him violently ill and for another week he struggled on in pain, barely coherent most of the time and borderline comatose the rest of it. He was essentially there for palliative care, as much as everybody hated to admit it.
Otabek spent most days at the hospital, watching over him- just like his 'guardian angel' as he'd said that one time- or going on coffee runs for his mother. The poor woman was distraught. It was plain to see things were over for Yuri and the doctors had already spoken to her about the pretty much inevitable eventuality that he would die. Every now and then a friend from school would visit and hover awkwardly at Yuri's bedside, never sure what to say or do. They usually just left a card or a teddy bear and rushed out with tears in their eyes. None of their grief drew anywhere near parallel with the confusing cocktail of emotional hell Otabek was going through, however. Watching Yuri slowly decay into a skeleton for months had taken it out of him so that now he could barely even muster enough energy to talk. Sometimes his own friends swung by his house to check on him, most of them having guessed something was up from the silence at his end of the phone. He'd been neglecting his social media for a long time and his followers had noticed- he had what seemed like hundreds of comments and private messages asking if he was okay. He didn't have the energy to reply to them so instead he posted the occasional grim picture of a cup of coffee or a building to reassure everybody that he was still alive. Today, though, it seemed that the fog had lifted from Yuri's mind. It had been a week since his admission and he was finally sitting up, blinking slowly at his surroundings and glaring cross-eyed with vitriol at his PEG tube. When he saw Otabek his expression changed to one of joy and shock.
'Hey,' He croaked out, his voice cracking painfully. He had a terrible throat infection from all the time he'd spent clawing at it with his fingernails and the acid that splashed against it as a result. 'You've been here a long time.'
'So have you.'
'Don't worry. You'll be able to leave soon,' Yuri smiled wearily, gesturing to his emaciated frame. He honestly looked so frail he could be a ghost; his skin was stretched taut across his bones, barely held together. 'I don't know if anybody's told you, but I'm dying.'
The strain on his body that something so simple as talking for a few seconds brought had him panting with exertion and he collapsed back against the bed.
'Don't say that,' Otabek pleaded with him, desperate for something to change. 'There's still a chance, there's still-'
'Shh. I'm going to die, but that's okay. I hope you've finished that eulogy.'
Otabek smiled through the tears that were now staining his cheeks, standing up and leaning over Yuri to brush his hair from his face. It had once been so thick and luxurious and one of his favourite things to do had been to run his hands through it. Now it limp and thin, much like Yuri himself.
'I actually think I'm going to die today,' Yuri surprised him by saying.
'Why?' Otabek choked out, unable to take it in. He refused to believe it.
'I don't know. I can feel it.'
'I'm calling a nurse. No way are you dying today, it's not-'
'It's my time.'
'Stop talking like a wise old man! You're sixteen, you can't die yet!' Otabek was too afraid to leave his side so he pressed the emergency button, at which point a nurse hurried down the corridor towards them. This was the moment when everything began to go a bit pear-shaped. She saw that Yuri's vitals had dropped dangerously low and instantly called in a doctor, who administered drugs and did this and that, none of which really helped. Otabek was forced from the room, but he stood outside and watched through the glass as the doctor and nurses stood around looking aggravated. At last one of them emerged looking apologetic. Yuri's mum, who had just dashed to grab the coffees, rounded the corner and saw that there was a commotion of some sort. She dropped the coffees and ran over, her eyes wild and her hands grabbing frantically at her unbrushed hair. Suddenly Otabek flashed back to when he and Yuri had met. It had been this same hospital and he'd been drinking the same coffee Yuri's mum had just dropped in her haste. Back then, he'd been disconcertingly thin, but he hadn't been dying. Looking at him now, Otabek wouldn't doubt he was sick. Back then he had believed him when he'd said he was fine. Everything had changed so quickly that it felt like it could be the same day and if he went to the cafe now he'd bump into an eccentric blond who would take him on a detour round the hospital and make him lost for the second time. Unfortunately, he was trapped in real time and was forced to listen to what the doctors had to say.
'Ms. Plisetsky, I would recommend that you say your goodbyes now,' The doctor said this with an apologetic tone as if it was somehow his fault. One of the nurses was crying and Otabek couldn't blame her. Seeing a mere child practically killing themselves would be heartbreaking for anybody, professional detachment or not.
'Oh god,' Yuri's mum wailed, not hesitating to flurry through the doors to shower her son with affection. Otabek followed in her wake considerably quieter, deep in depressive thought. How could he say goodbye? What could he possibly say that would make any of this okay and not leave him with thousands of regrets? Evidently, he didn't have much time left to construct his farewell speech because Yuri's eyes were shut and he was so pale he almost blended into the sheets he was lying on.
'I want-' He tried to speak but it came out as a death rattle. He had to take a few deep breaths to manage to get it out. 'I want to go outside.'
'Absolutely out of the question,' The doctor stated. 'You would be in terrible pain and I'm afraid it may kill you.'
'I'm about to die anyway,' Yuri whispered, clenching his fists weakly. 'I want to go outside and hear the birds, just one last time.'
'I can't let you do that,' The doctor shook his head. Yuri's mum looked from her son to his boyfriend, then back to her dejected looking son. The only thing she could ask for now was that he was happy in his final few moments upon the world she'd stupidly brought him into. Whether it was with her or not was up to him- it was his life and he could choose his happiness. She was firm in the knowledge that her love for him wouldn't waver at all based on any decision he made.
'Could I have a moment alone with him to say goodbye?' She looked at the doctor and he nodded, stepping outside into the corridor to give her some space. Otabek went to leave but she called him back. 'Will you- will you take him outside? That's what he wants.'
'Are you sure? The doctor said-'
'Please,' Yuri wheezed and Otabek couldn't refuse him his dying wish, although he wished himself that it could just be a plain wish.
'I'll distract them. Just go,' She sobbed, her hands shaking as she pulled out the wheelchair they'd been using for the short while that Yuri had still been mobile. They unhooked him from countless wires and machines and loaded him into the chair, Otabek trying to ignore the fact that this brought it full circle to when they'd first met. Yuri's mum easily distracted the doctors by asking them questions and Otabek was able to sneak quickly away round a corner, racing for the lift at the end of the corridor. A shout went up behind him and just as they spun round to face the doors of the elevator as they closed they could see doctors and nurses galore honing in on them. In a last act of bravado Yuri flipped them off and stuck his tongue out. They got to the ground floor and Otabek ran with the chair, dodging patients and doctors like mad until they made it to the doors and rushed out into the street.
'Shit,' Otabek cursed, not knowing which way to turn.
'Left, left!' Yuri cried and Otabek veered left, continuing round the back of the building until he spotted a field. He somehow manoeuvred the wheelchair into it and parked it so that they were obscured by a hedge.
'Holy shit,' He gasped, both of them panting heavily and laughing from the exhilaration of their high-speed chase. 'What is it with you and running away from doctors?'
'What is it with you and making me want to?' Yuri retorted, his cheeks tinged slightly pink, the first time they'd shown any colour in weeks. He was grinning madly and Otabek knew they'd made the right decision. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, offering Yuri one.
'What, you're actually letting me do something today?' Yuri teased, his voice louder than before and Otabek was almost hopeful with this sudden cheer. He knew deep down that it was just the adrenaline and Yuri was still minutes from death but his naive and youthful heart still relished the chance to hope.
'I don't think one will kill you,' He shrugged as he lit them both up, inhaling deeply on his own and blowing the smoke