To Those Who Don't Belong

22

"George?" I wandered around the box filled apartment. I couldn't find George, he was gone.

By this time, I had lost five pounds. It took a while, but I made it.

"I'm in here," I heard a shout coming from the kitchen. The fresh aroma of pancakes aroused my nostrils. No. I can't do this, I'm still a bit too fat.

I walked into the kitchen and saw George turned away from me, flipping the jacks on the skillet. I got closer to him and snaked my arms around his thin, yet muscular build.

"I'm making your breakfast, darling," I put my head further into the croon of his neck.

"That's nice, but George, I'm not too hungry. My tummy hurts," I lied.

"How can your tummy hurt when you refuse to eat? If it does, that just means you really need to eat." He was stern.

"Mm," I sighed.

"Please eat. Then I'll leave you alone. You don't look healthy."

I nodded and held on to George. He backed up and I followed, as if we were dancing.

"You gotta let go," he whispered, "go sit at the table," I walked away and obeyed his orders.

After a few minutes he joined me with two plates. On mine, there was five pancakes. On his, only two.

"You can't expect me to eat this all?" He looked up at me, his eyebrow raised high.

"Eat what you can. At least two," he turned away and began scarfing his down.

I stared at my plate. I slowly took the first hesitant bite. After I swallowed, a sudden splurge of hunger took over me. I hadn't really eaten in four days. I just chugged water.

One bite turned to two. One pancake turned to three, and so forth.

I finished and looked up at George. He was smiling.

"I knew you were hungry, my beautiful boy. Now, promise me something."

"Hm?" I could feel sticky syrup on my lips.

"Don't ever starve yourself again. It's unhealthy, and you're already pretty small. I mean, think about John. Sure, he gained a couple recently, and he is definetly heavier than you, but he is still considered healthy. You're almost underweight as is. You're beautiful," he stood up and cupped my face. "My handsome man," he passionately kissed me and then stopped to take our plates to the kitchen.

"George?"

"Yes, luv?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."