Skinny Love (completed)

"I could sit like this all day,"

"I could sit like this all day," Tristan mused. Country music was playing throughout the truck as I laid on top of him in the back seat. He held me down with a large hand and kept rubbing it back up and down whenever he realized he had subconsciously stopped.

"Your Man" by Josh Turner came on and right as the lyrics rang out, Tristan sang along. I blushed hard as Tristan sang, "Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low," his deep voice was perfect and his southern drawl was heart melting. I hummed before I sneezed into his chest. "My baby have a little cold?" He asked. I sat up on his lap as he just stayed laying down, and reached for a tissue in my pocket.

"Lately I have been sneezing and having runny noses. Maybe." I said as I blew into the tissue and wiped at my nose. I sneezed again but this time into my elbow. "I don't want you to get sick."

"Trust me, I won't." He chuckled. "I haven't been sick since I was a kid. I have a pretty good immune system." I smiled but had to sneeze again. I sneezed on him and giggled. "Hey, watch it, you might get me sick!" We both laughed and he sat up to hug me. "Why are you so darn cute all the time?" He asked as he kissed at my temple. I blushed.

"It's natural." He smiled and started tickling me. "Tristan! Ha-ha! Stop! Stop it! I can't, I can't take it!" He laughed at me and I squealed on his lap. He refused to stop. He reached under my sweatshirt and tickled at my ribs with just a shirt covering me. "Tristan stop!" I said sternly. He did and frowned, unsure of what he did wrong.

"I'm sorry," he nervously coughed and sat back on his palms. "I didn't mean to go that far." He looked away and I shook my head.

"It's not that you went too far. I just ... I just don't want you feeling or seeing my rib cage."

"What?"

"I'm really skinny, Tristan, and I ... oh, this sounds so stupid as I say it out loud. Look, I'm really embarrassed with how I look under my clothes. And your hands only being a thin piece of fabric away from my skin and bones, is really nerve racking."

"Why?"

"Be—because you might not like what you feel or see."

"But ... you showed me your bruised torso two weeks ago."

"That was different." We were quiet. "I'm not ready for you to see me fully." I looked away and curled myself up on his lap. Tristan didn't seem to know what to do.

"I'm sorry, Jasmine. I didn't mean to make you upset." He slumped his shoulders and I felt like I hurt a little kid's feelings.

I grabbed his heavy wrist and placed his hand on my ribcage. He stroked his thumb back and forth across the rivets of bones that guarded my heart and lungs. I then slid his hand down to my hips. I pressed his thumb against my hip bone and began crying.

"I'm disgusting. It's better to be fat than look like me." Tristan shook his head and tried to 'shhhh' me. He sat up and hugged me. He picked me up and held me in his arms as he laid back down.

"You're beautiful, Jasmine." He kissed the side of my head and I couldn't stop myself from crying. He rubbed my back and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Sweet nothings such as "it's going to be okay," "you're beautiful no matter what," "you're perfect to me," "don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

But Tristan slipped up as he said, "I love you."

My crying ceased and I pushed up on his chest. "What?" I asked wiping away snot. Tristan seemed at a loss of words.

"I—I love you, Jasmine." I've only known the kid for four weeks. He loves me, though.

Now I was at a loss of words.