I lifted my shirt and beamed brightly at my tummy rolls and belly button. Fits of giggles bubbled at the back of my throat as I poked at my stomach. To anyone else, my unusual display of energy might have been concerning, but to me it was more than just random amusement. It was pride.
A majority of my childhood and teenage years have been filled with visits to a dietician, depressing routines, looming diabetes
, and over-sized clothes I hid in. Each time they wanted to try something new, it made me feel like I was an elephant. It's been way too emotional for me, and I would never want to relive it ever. Knowing that my weight issues were my fault, considering I had no off-switch when it came to food as a kid, made me even more sad. Thinking about it made me want to cry, not because I was sad, but because I was honestly happy with how far my own motivation has been taking me. It was difficult for a while dealing with people eating the things I craved around me, but I managed.
I flopped backwards with a sigh, thinking about everything that I had been through and what I've been accomplishing as of the recent. I knew the results weren't going to come through yet, but I still felt so much better. *
"Poppet? Where are you?" A distinctly crisp English accent filled my ears. I sat up and grabbed a pillow instinctively, attempting to cover my exposed stomach. Before I could flag him down, he peeked his head into the living room and his eyes instantly grew wide.
"Hi Ollie," I smiled at him as I sat up a little straighter. He didn't respond, but he was quick to sit next to me with a serious look on his face. He even forgot to take his coat off, which was new.
"Evelyn, love, what's wrong? Did something happen?" His bright blue eyes grew concerned as he knitted his strawberry eyebrows together. Oliver's sudden worried expression was confusing me.
"What are you taking about? Everything is fine, Oliver." I muttered, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He reached out and cupped both of my cheeks, staring at me with intensity. Oliver brushed a pale thumb beneath my wet eyelashes. Wait, wet?
I blinked quickly, sending more water racing down my cheeks. A mixture of emotions spilled across his face once he saw those fresh tears, until finally, he settled on anger and those infamous swirls of pink came into his eyes. I realized then that Oliver was completely misunderstanding my situation.
"Who," The Brit demanded, his voice dark and full of venom. He reached down to grip my hands tightly, his face remaining stern.
"No one, Oliver. I'm fine, I promise. I was just-"
"Love, tell me. I promise to take care of it. They'll be dismembered and spread across this city by tomorrow, I swear." He was swift to get up and pull a rather large kitchen knife from his pastel blue coat.
"Ollie, no!" I bolted up and grabbed a hold of his wrist. "It's okay! No one made me upset. I was just a little emotional before you came here." His dark features twisted up into confusion as the swirls of madness in his eyes faded.
"Why are crying, then?" Oliver cupped my face in his hands again and stepped towards me. I noticed that his knife was put away overwhelmingly fast.
"It's nothing important, Ollie. I was just reminiscing is all." I laced my fingers through his and looked up at him. His suspicious face made me sigh. "It's nothing." I concluded and then I carefully tiptoed up to his eye level and pecked his lips.
"It clearly is important if you're worked up over it, poppet." He murmured as he pulled me onto the couch with him. "Please, tell me? I hate it when my little cupcake is upset."
"I was just thinking about my weight," I threw back, knowing that Ollie would persist with his begging until he squeezed it out of me. Might as well just tell him now and save myself some time.
"Oh, poppet, you know how I feel about that." He laced his fingers through mine and gave them a squeeze. "You're beautiful."
"Too bad you're the only person who thinks like that."
"Then that clearly means that I'm the only one that knows best."
"Your opinion doesn't equate to facts, Oliver." I rolled my eyes at his smug comments. "Besides, I wasn't actually disappointment in myself today." I peeked up at him just as he raised his pink eyebrows in thought.
"Is this about your new diet?" He hummed. I did a double take and gawked at him. "Think I didn't notice, poppet? You changed your eating habits
and you weren't as stressed out as you usually are when you do that."
"Yeah. I'm just surprised that you noticed." I wasn't really. He normally does notice the small things. "I just didn't want it to turn into anxiety like last time."
"Oh, poppet. Do whatever makes you happy." Oliver kissed my forehead. "I'm proud of you." I beamed when I heard those words.
"Of course. Why would I say it and not mean it, Evelyn?" I grinned up at him before practically tackling him into the couch.
"I love you so much Ollie!" I chirped, kissing his face up. Once I was done with him, his cheeks were beet red and covered in lipstick smudges. "Oh shit! I'm sorry! I forgot I was wearing make-up-" The ceiling suddenly came into view and I was on my back with Oliver on top of me, looking particularly smug.
"What have I told you about swearing, love?" He growled. "Must I remind you of the consequences?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kirkland," I batted my eyelashes at him, catching his playful tone. "I didn't mean it, honest. Please let me go." I gave him my signature pout.
"Alright, love. I'll let you go," I felt the cool skin of his hands start to creep up under the front of my shirt. "On one condition..."