Bedtime

115
I smile down at the number as I weigh in for the first time in almost three weeks. I look in the mirror in front of me, turning this way and that. The 8 pound difference is visible. I poke my stomach, feeling not rolls, but muscle under the skin. Not a lot, but enough. My arms to are more toned too, along with my legs.
After a little over a month of working out and eating healthier, I finally don't look ugly...well not as ugly.

I take my hair out of the ponytail it's in and let the golden locks flow over my shoulders. I brush them thoroughly, getting out any tangles.

I hurry to my closet where I pull out an outfit I bought at a random store yesterday. I think it was called Wet Fish, or something along those lines. It's tight, light purple, bleached skinny jeans. A black, scope neck shirt that ties off to the side, showing a fair amount of mid drift. I saw an outfit much like this in a magazine, the model looked really pretty in it, so I based my shopping on it.

I yank the jeans on, they feel strange as they rap around my legs, then I tug on the shirt, tying like it's suppose to be.

I look in the mirror. My reflection seems almost unreal. Is that really me?
I reach up and touch my cheek, the girl in the reflective glass does the same.
I guess it really is me.

I slip on a pair of black heals and I'm finished. I take in a big breath and make my way to Blake's room. My heels clicking against the hardwood floors, I enter his room. My hands clasp together nervously as I stop a few feet away from him. His leaning over his desk, writing something down, he hasn't seen me yet.

"Blake?"

He glances at me.
"Yeah hold on a mi-" He does a double take, mouth agape. "Farrah, w-what are you wearing?"

I wrap my arms around my waist self consciously. Looking down at my feet. I worry about his reaction. What if I don't look good enough?
"Clothes.."

"B-But-Why-You-They're jeans!" I peek up through my lashes to see a very shocked expression across his perfect face.

"I know.."

He stands up and walks up to me slowly, so slowly in fact it worried me.
"Farrah why are you wearing this?"

His voice is soft, almost a whisper. He puts two hands on my hips, gripping them slightly. "Farrah please answer me"

"I want to look pretty, like that girl, Babybop, did" I trail off biting my lip.
He groans letting go and rubbing his temples.

"Is that why?" He moans in irritation.

"Well..yeah. You touched her for a reason, you wanted her for a reason and I don't want-" I cut myself before I say anything else stupid.
He looks at me curiously.

"You don't want what?"

I bite my tongue hard, forcing myself into silence.
He'll think it's stupid..

"What don't you want?" He murmurs, coming closer and brushing away hair that fell in front of my face. "Tell me" I look up into his eyes, they are filled with so much emotion. I can't put a finger on any exact feeling.

"I don't want you to" I take a deep breath before finishing "To touch other girls, I don't like that, I want to be the only girl you touch" My voice is barely audible as I finish.

Silence fills the room, it is clear he didn't expect that.
I wait and wait for a response. Finally I receive one.
"Why? Why just you?"

His tone makes feel stupid, selfish. Stupid and selfish.

"I just don't like when you handle other girls. It makes me sad and I don't know why. I know I want you to be happy, and what that girl did does that." I fiddle with the edge of my shirt, looking down once more.

Blake sighs heavily and grabs my face, making me look at him. I see anger in his eyes, and something else like sorrow.

"Farrah, you don't have to make me happy. I mean, your too, too-" He presses his forehead to mine. "You don't understand what your saying Farrah, your too young, too innocent"

I hate that he says this. I do understand what I'm saying, I want him to be happy, that's what I'm saying.
I run my fingertips across his cheek softly.

"How'd she do it?"

He pulls away slightly, looking at me bemused.
"What do you mean?"

"Babybop, how'd she make you happy? What'd she do?"

A parade of feelings marches over his face.
"Look, you can't-" I cut him off.

"How'd she touch you? Did she kiss you?"
He closes his eyes and his jaw clenches, he looks like his fighting with something inside his mind.
I lean up on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his cheek, near his mouth.
"Like that?"

He pulls completely away shaking his head furiously.
"No Farrah, just leave" He points to the door, he's shaking, like he's cold or really mad. I've upset him.

"Do I not look enough like her? is she the only one you want to touch?" I just want to know. If he doesn't want me, or he wants me to change.

"No, y-you look-ugh! Please just leave!" He almost yells, making me jump slightly.

"Okay Blake" I scurry to the doorway and look back at him.

"GO!"
I whimper and run into my room, shutting and locking the door.

What does he want?