A Love Like Ours

One on One

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️
TALK OF EATING DISORDER IN THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

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I entered the room, letting the door slam behind me. I sat my bags down by the foot of the bed that Michael and I would be sharing and walked over to the window. Pulling back the curtains, I stood there and watched as the sun was beginning to set and I let out a deep sigh.

'Out of all the money that I have, why the hell didn't I just get my own room? Or better yet, why didn't I just leave and go back to Santa Monica. At least the rooms were bigger and if I didn't want to share a bed with Michael, there was a pull out sofa available.'

I stood there thinking, or more like sulking, to myself for a few more minutes when I heard the bathroom door open. I could see his reflection in the window as he moved around the room, getting dressed and putting his things away. Finally, after he noticed I wasn't going to acknowledge him, he spoke up.

"Princess, are we gonna-"

"I don't wanna talk." I cut him off. I walked over and grabbed one of my bags and retreated to the bathroom before he could say anything else.

~

Two hours later and I was still in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I showered, washed my hair, dried and wrapped it, did a facial cleanse and even polished my finger and toe nails. No thanks to Allison, who packed up damn near my entire bathroom, I was able to do all these things and now that I was finally done, I had no other reason to stay locked up in the bathroom. Plus, I was getting hungry. Maybe if I ate, my attitude wouldn't be so.... Trashy.

As if he was reading my mind, there was a light knock on the door and then Michael's voice asking if I was hungry. Opening the door to finally face him, I responded with a nod and walked around him, into the room and sat at the small table.

"What would you like?" He asked, leaning up against the wall.

I just shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

A hit of frustration flashed across his face but disappeared as fast it came. "Pizza it is."

He used the hotel phone to place the order and about forty five minutes later, we were silently enjoying a large pepperoni pizza. After scarfing down two slices, I decided to get up from the table. I washed my hands in the small kitchen sink and then went over and settled in on the bed.

Michael looked over at me and there was a particular look on his that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"What?" I asked, trying to read his face.

He stared at me for a few seconds longer before turning away to look at the TV. "Nothing."

"Just say it."

"You seem to be eating less and less these days." He quietly responded, keeping his gaze on the TV.

"How would you know?" I scoffed. I was already getting annoyed with this conversation because I knew exactly where it was going.

"It doesn't take a genius to see that you're depriving yourself of food." He remarked. He rose up from his seat to put away the pizza in the fridge and he stood against the wall near the bed to look at me. "You've lost weight."

"I've always been slim."

"You're slimmer."

"What the hell-"

He cut me off with a question. "Princess, are you starving yourself? And be honest?"

"NO!!" I shouted. I couldn't believe he was even asking me this.