Quandary | Noah Sebastian |

twenty-one

A/N: sexual content. 

There's slight insinuation of body dysmorphia at the beginning of the chapter, but please please please keep in mind that there is nothing wrong with her body or anyone else's!

I have never in my life had body image issues. I wasn't big nor was I slim, maybe a little under the average height for a woman my age, but I was always content.

However, stepping out of the shower this morning and seeing the reflection of a body that I was beginning to hardly recognize, started to make me think otherwise. I know that pregnancy was supposed to be an endearing, beautiful journey, but I felt anything but beautiful.

I looked washed out; my eyes were dark and lackluster from the newly acquired bags of exhaustion underneath them. My breasts were swelling, and with how fair-skinned I was, the veins became more prominent in my chest—it was anything but flattering.

And my belly? Though the bump was cute, I could no longer button my jeans, and it only threw me into a fit of hysterics when Noah presented me the waist expander that he had bought weeks prior for just such an occasion. I felt ridiculous for my behavior after he consoled me; his intentions were pure, and he only wanted to make things easier for me.

I tried my best to see through these flaws, but as I ran a hand down my stomach and felt the small indentations under my fingertips, I could feel myself deflate. Stretch marks already? Tears sprung to my eyes as shame washed over me, and I quickly slipped on my bathrobe to hide my reflection.

I was only halfway through my pregnancy; if I already felt this way, I couldn't imagine how much worse I'd feel about myself the further along I went. And that terrified me with the way I had coped for so long.

Sniffling, I exited the bathroom, beelining to my bureau to dress myself as fast as possible. But with each article of clothing that I pulled out, I felt more and more depreciated—none of my jeans fit properly anymore, and most of my shirts were becoming too tight. All I had were leggings and hoodies.

Soon enough, tears were rolling down my face and my throat was burning, trying to hold back the cry I wanted to let out. I didn't want to bring attention to myself and worry Noah.

Too late.

Strong arms snaked around my waist and heat radiated against my back as Noah sidled up behind me. "What's wrong, love?" he asks, his voice calm, and he rests his chin on my shoulder.
I hastily palm the tears away, shaking my head lightly. "Nothing," I mumble.
"Mmm," he ponders, and I know he doesn't buy it for a second. "Something tells me otherwise."
I shake my head once more, "Really, it's nothing, Noah. I-I'm fine."

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he directed my body towards him and took my face in his hands gently. His eyebrows are raised and cinched together as his chocolate eyes gaze down at me, filled with concern. My heart clenches, and my cheeks are damp once again.

"But you're crying." His lips tug downward ever-so-slightly as he brushes my tears away with his thumbs. "Talk to me."
I swallowed the lump that was beginning to grow in my throat. "I just... I don't..." I trailed off to suck in a choppy breath. "I don't like the way my body is changing, and it's only gonna get wo-orse," I say with a tight throat, a sob finally making its way out of me. My eyes wrench shut, tears streaming as he hushes me.

He presses his lips to my forehead, then moves to each cheek before cradling my head against his bare chest. "Nonsense," he tells me, rubbing circles on my back. "No such thing as worse when you're already perfect the way you are."
"I'm not though," I cry against his chest. "I'm getting fat; my clothes don't fit anymore, I'm starting to get stretch marks, my boobs are too big and—"
"Olivia, stop," he cuts me off, tipping my head towards him by my chin. "This is what's supposed to happen. Your body is adjusting to the life that's growing inside of you."
"I-I'm supposed to get fat?" I whimper, my lips trembling.
He sighs, "No, that's not what I meant. Come with me."