Shaforostop It (2015)

Chapter Nine - If You Hate Me

Denis had decided many things, only three days. He decided that I needed to stay wtih him for a while, to get away from my 'hectic' life. He had decided once again that he didn't want me anywhere near Eric, for my own safety. But I had suspisions it was because he thought I might go back to him. He decided that I should let Cameron cool down before I even try and fix things, and I didn't disagree. I wished everything could have been much easier from the start. I had been sitting on the couch for almost two hours, unable to much, too sore. "Perhaps you over did it?" Denis suggested with a small smile. He'd texted me and told me to come home half way through the day, as I'd been at the gym since 6am. But I refused, and stayed until 10pm.

"Of couse I did. I have too. I need to get back in shape." I breathed. Denis was playing with my hair, my head on his lap so I could lay on the small couch in the informal living room. When I got home I took a cold shower, but I had to sit in the shower, as I was too tired to stand/ Even thought all my muscles burned whenever I moved, I liked it. It was a good burn. Athleticism is masochism. No matter how hard your body hirt, you felt good inside. You knew you did your best, and pushed yourself, and woked hard.

"Back in shape? You're already in shape."

"This isn't shape to me. Normally I could work out that long and be at least slightly more okay than now."

"Leda you were at the gym for sixteen hours today."

"I know." I hated when people made me feel crazy for working out so much. When you have such high standards for yourselfm and you have records to set and records to beat, and so many people betting on you all the time, you have to take it seriously. I needed to train every day, and practise every day. I needed to not drink, and stay healthy, and take care of myself. Judging only based on the previous weeks, you would think I didn't care at all, and I had no excuse. Just an off week or two.

"Come on then. Bed time." I smiled slightly.

"No," I whined. "I'm not even that tired."

"Don't act like a child."

"Then don't act like my dad." I shivered internally for every girl that called their boyfriend daddy.

"I'm not!" Denis defended. "I'm your boyfriend." I half considered asking him to repeat the second phrase, but refrained.

"Well you know what that means then don't you?"

"I'm sorry does boyfriend mean something difference in America?" Denis laughed jokingly and I giggled.

"It means you should bring me food." I smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes.

"I- We don't have any food. There's vodka and chips and you're not going to eat either of those, so." I groaned in response.

"You're the bigggest twenty something I'm-in-a-band I-live-alone stereotype to ever exist. Don't you have any like, frozen fruit, or milk or anything?"

"No," Denis laughed as if the idea was insane. "why would I have frozen fruit?"

"Smoothies?"

"Do I look like someone who drinks smoothies, Leda?"

"Oh bite me." I sat up weakly.

"Okay, what do you want? I'll go buy food." Denis stood up and smiled his sunshiney smile down at me. I wondered if he smiled at me long enough if I would get tan or something. I laughed at myself. ***Food AND band members? Every girls dream.***

"You're amazing, oh my god. I have no idea."

"Pizza?"

"No junk food." I sighed longingly.