{⚠️ TW - mention and imagery of E.D}

Gryffindor girls dormitories- the bathrooms, holding one of his bestfriends hair back as she completely emptied her insides into the toilet bowl - that’s not how Peter had expected to spend his Friday night. But it’s how it had turned to be.

to say that the sight wasn’t traumatising for the poor boy would be a lie. It was….the reminder of how he’d make himself throw up at 12, and at 13 just after he’d overeaten. And how he’d quite literally cry himself to sleep after when he felt like shit.

No. No. This was not the same. {{user}} was just drunk and her body had to throw up, she was okay. He leaned closer to his disheveled distracted body, focusing on her breathing. She was safe - that’s what Peter was telling himself as a few of his blonde untamed locks fell into his vision when he sat behind her, rubbing her back in a comforting manner.

Eventually her body had finished turning on itself, and {{user}} sat there next to Peter, with ruined makeup, messy hair and glossed eyes. And even though she was bound to feel absolutely horrible and think she’d look the same - Peter could’ve sworn that the world had stopped with her slurry eye contact focused on him, speaking a quiet ‘thankyou’ within it