𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐚. 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤.♡

Ｃｈａｐｔｅ ｒ ＸＩＩ

ＪＵＮＧＫＯＯＫ

Anorexia nervosa, often referred to simply as anorexia, is an eating disorder characterized by low weight, food restriction, fear of gaining weight, and a strong desire to be thin. Many people with anorexia see themselves as overweight even though they are, in fact, underweight.

Sleep is far from reach as I keep scrolling down page after page of the same generic description. Countless of pics of young girls with ribs and bones sticking out of their pale skin had been more than enough to make my own skin crawl, the after-images blazed forever behind my eyelids. She was right— they all said the same thing but I'd always known that no matter what what was said, you couldn't really understand something without experiencing it yourself first hand.

I put my laptop aside and lay down on the warm comfort of my bed. Even though I'd willed my eyes shut, sleep just wouldn't come. She kept busying my head with all kinds of thoughts— thoughts of her disorder, thoughts of what she was doing right now and the memory of her soft lips on mine. I keep replaying that exact moment like a loop, feeding off my imagination like a middle-schooler. She'd acted like she barely gave a shit but there was no mistakening the furious blush that had fallen across her nose and cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. It looked surprisingly adorable on her, different from any type of reaction I'd gotten in exchange.

I roll over the other side of the bed and smash the back of my head on the pillow. I'm such an asshole. And she's no better either. How can you just leave after someone kisses you?

I leave my mind pondering to these thoughts as my eyelids slowly start to weigh down on me. But just when I'm about to pass out cold, a dark figure intrudes the corner of my eye, causing my body to turn upright.

Jojo's standing by the threshold, dressed up in what looked like loose see-through sleeping clothes. The material fell in graceful waves from the hems and pooled around her ankles. It felt weird not seeing her dressed up in her usual tomboy look but I was enjoying the view
nonetheless. Her hair drapes over her shoulder and hides a part of her face, the rest of it, illuminated by the moonlight seeping from the drawn-back curtains. It looked like she'd just awoken, eyes mussed up with sleep but still focused on my form. She stares deeply at me, as if waiting for something.

All traces of exhaustion now wiped clean, I push myself up on my elbows and return the stare. How had she gotten here this late? Did she know my password?

She saunters over to the bed in such a seductively delicate manner but yet it was so subtle, I doubted whether she did it on purpose or not. Her left knee touches the duvet first, making the bed dip slightly under her weight. Then she leans her palm facing down and proceeds to come closer and closer on all fours like a
predator targeting its prey. I was like a deer caught in the headlights in the most cliché sense of the word. I kept observing her movements with
silent adoration and the more I tried to look away, the harder my eyes seemed to fixate on her approaching form. At some point she's sitting so close to me that I can feel her soft breath fluttering my eyelashes. She slowly tilts her head and gives me a look of mild curiosity, as if puzzled by my existence there altogether.

"Can I touch you?" she softly asks. Her dark orbs bore into mine, waiting for my answer. Such a sheer persuasion is held inside of them that I find myself gulping audibly before nodding without a moment's notice. She comes impossibly closer, almost attaching her body into mine and then raises a hand up to my hair, the small fingers playfully twirling the dark locks. I then notice her own hair falling in curtains in front of her face, slightly obscuring her eyes from view. It makes her look even more mysterious and alluring, I can barely resist the urge to tuck a string back behind her ear.

"Can I do more than just touch you?" she asks again and this time the movement of her hand slows into a halt. The edges of her lips pull slightly in a teasing manner and seem to merge into a coy smile.

My heart starts beating like crazy. I can feel it accelerate into a manic pace as it pulses with an unfaltering heat underneath my fingertips.
I muster whatever air left in my lungs and whisper the words in a breeze. "Whatever you'd like."

That's all the approval she needs. She tilts her head on the side and lets the tip of her nose brush my earlobe. The breath she lets go draws from me an involuntary shudder that washes over my body; from the top of my head and down to my toes.

I fist the sheets to the point where it hurts. I wanted to touch her too, to feel her and to breathe her in. But I don't. I decide to let her be the one in control, to let her know that just a word tumbling from her lips would be enough to give her all of me. All that I had.

She drags those sinful lips along the side of my neck painfully slow and then puts her legs on each side of my hips, straddling them. And then she kisses me. Even though barely a peck, it burns scolding hot and causes my lips to burst into a heap of tingles.

My hands find their way into her waist, digging through the material but she stops me with her own and gives my chest a light push. I try to relax and let my back lower till it finally makes contact with the sheets. She hovers above me, graceful strings of hair tickling my neck as she attacks my lips again with bruising strength.

That's when I feel it. My shirt being lifted.

Her cold fingertips, in stark contrast with my ridiculously hot skin, leave goosebumps in their wake. I try to reach with my hands and help her get it off but she grabs them and puts them back down. "Don't. I'll do it for you."

She resumes her previous action and sweeps my shirt completely off but not before making sure those nimble fingers slide along my skin with an added pressure. I let her. I let her do whatever she wants with me. She can have me.

I pray silently with my eyes for her to kiss me again and surprisingly, she understands. But this time I can't help the small whine coming deep from the back of my throat as she dips her head down and lets her tongue swipe a sensitive stripe on my neck. I'm scared the sheets will rip into shreds from how hard I'm twisting them.

She doesn't stop. Only goes lower and lower with open-mouthed kisses, down my chest, through the ridges of my abs, all the way to my navel. She stops there and the hard muscle of her tongue moves in a way that makes me gasp out loud. I shut my eyes tight.

When I open them again, the pressure on my tummy slowly dissipates. I drag my eyes to my front but there's no one there. Just the open window swaying the curtains and the entirety of my room swallowed by semi-darkness.

She's not here. It was just a dream.

I sit up on my bed and drag a hand to my face, rubbing it hard to pull myself together. What the hell just happened? I hate myself even more for the fact that I wish it wasn't a dream. I let my head fall back with a thump into the pillows and notice the uncomfortable heat at the bottom of my stomach. "Holy shit, " I whisper.