𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 was raised from the ground up knowing nothing but comparison and perfection.
She compared herself to her successful parents, supermodel sister, and glamorous friends. Instead of love, she harbored a raging jealousy for nea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
S i m o n e
✢
--------------------------
Nicolas ordered four scrambled eggs, 4 toasts, a fruit cup, waffles, 3 croissants, a plate of macaroons, bacon, a chocolate chip pancake, and a breakfast sandwich that sat awkwardly tall with how many fillings it had—also coffee, tea, juice, 2% milk, and a pitcher of water.
I asked what was for him. He said he'd eat the leftovers. I told him he should just start eating then.
He was fucked in the head if he thought I'd touch any of the food aside from the eggs, fruit, and a piece of toast.
The macaroons, despite how good they looked, made my stomach swirl, and the croissants were visibly coated in a layer of butter. My mind raced to calculate the calories of everything on the table before I could stop, and I was disturbingly satisfied to see what I would be eating was still a fairly low amount compared to the rest.
I made the wise decision to put on pants and change out of the shirt I knew to be Nicolas's just from the lingering scent of his cologne, even though he said it wasn't his. Maybe I was fucked in the head and not him because a part of me wanted to keep the shirt. Instead, I threw it at his head as I re-entered the bedroom.
"The fuck-," He began, pulling it from his head to look at me.
Maybe I should've just kept the fucking shirt on because instead, I changed into a white tank top with a delicate flower sewn into the middle of the neckline and matching little pajama shorts with a pink hemming and printed flower front in center.
I forgot to account for the fact I'm always cold, and the female body does certain things when cold.
I also forgot to account for the fact that my body would have a reaction to the way his body would react to my body -- naturally, of course. Not because of any attraction, it's just biology.
Nicolas cut himself off, and I took the opportunity to cover up the split second of tension. "Keep the shirt, it's ugly anyways. It'll take up space in my suitcase meant for the other clothes you'll buy me," I yawned heavily, collapsing onto the bed and ignoring the mass of food.
