Numbers.

*Oli's P.O.V*

After Josh's adorable confession in the kitchen, we had wandered into the living room and are currently sitting on the couch.

Josh's beautifully skinny legs are crossed in front of him, hands folded in his lap as he thinks of a question to ask me. My legs are also crossed, and my arms are sort of folded across my chest, in an odd way. I don't feel uncomfortable, or embarrassed. Maybe a little anxious. Nervous, even. Because I knew, if a single wrong word happened to spill out of my mouth, he would know my boyfriend and I's dirty little secret. And he would tell somebody.

"How are you feeling...y'know, today? Right in this very moment?" He asks, tilting his head, eagerly waiting for my answer.

"I, uh," I shift a bit, unsure of what the right answer was. Something that wouldn't worry him. Something that doesn't sound suspicious. "I'm fine."

Fuck.

He raises his eyebrows. "Oli, what the fuck? Can you just tell me the truth? I thought you were about to start crying in the kitchen. I'm concerned."

"Well, don't be," I snap, without thinking. Without Mike being here, my filters sort of shut down. They didn't need to be so strict when I was with others. And apparently Josh was no exception. I realize how harsh I'd been when Josh recoils, and slouches down, staring at the space of couch in between us. "I didn't mean to snap at you Josh, I'm just not used to having a...two-sided conversation."

His head pops back up. "Why not?"

I shrug. "Mike isn't really one to get into things he doesn't wanna hear."

"Like what?"

"Like...how I'm doing. Because quite frankly, I'm never exactly doing too well. I'm pretty shitty most of the time, if I had to choose one feeling." I look into his eyes to find them angry, sad, and maybe even a little worried.

"Oli, why the fuck do you go out with him?" He demands. Okay, so that was pretty fucking blunt. Unexpected.

"We...I, uh-" I can't seem to form the words, and the tension rises as I can feel him getting more impatient for my answer.

"Oli, we aren't stupid," His tone softens, and his eyes stare longingly into mine. "Well, at least I'm not."

I raise my eyebrows questioningly. "I never s-said you were, I j-just....wait, wh-what?" Realization hits, and I begin to wonder what he's going on about.

"Have you even glanced in a mirror lately?" He wonders. "Because you look like you've just been in a boxing match." Oh yeah. I almost forgot about that for a split second. I almost forgot to panic. Almost.

My stomach clenches, and I attempt to pull my very best acting skills. "What?" I ask dumbly, tilting my head. "Josh, I have an iron deficiency, you know. I bruise very easily."

"Yes," He nods, trying to reason. "I've been informed. That doesn't exactly explain the bruises on your face though, does it?"

I shift awkwardly in my spot. "Uh, yeah it does." I defend lightly. "Sometimes they just appear. Even if I rest my head on my hand, y'know?"

"Look," He lets out a breath he'd been holding in. "It's obvious you don't wanna talk about this, and I'm not gonna make you. But just so you know, I'm here if you ever do need to talk, m'kay?"

I shake my head. "There's nothing to talk about Josh," I try. "I have a medical condition, nothing to it."

Josh only shakes his head. "I'm here when you need it. But right now, what do you feel like doing?" I admired his ability to get out of an odd situation so easily. I envied him, just the slightest.

"I feel like watching a movie," I answer honestly.

He scoffs. "Ols, live a little. I'm not allowing us to slug around this apartment for five days."

My heart flutters at the nickname again, but I push it to the side. "Slug around?" I question, shaking my head as I let out a few chuckles. "And no, I'd rather 'slug around'." I say, doing air quotes around the two words.

"Maybe we could go to the cinema!" He squeals happily. "That's a compromise, huh?"

I shrug. "I guess so, although I'd really prefer to be on my own couch." I say, patting the fabric below me.

He sighs. "Well, you can't bring it along, sadly. So go get yo' nasty ass in the shower."

I fake hurt. "I'm very clean, Joshua. I naturally smell amazing, but for your contentment, I shall shower." I stand up, brushing myself off.

"How did you know my name?" He asks. Wow, maybe he is a little dense. Then again, I don't exactly catch onto things too quickly either.

"Josh is usually a shorter nickname for Joshua, y'know?" I ask, turning I to the bathroom and shutting the door, feeling proud that I was actually able to lock it.

•••

After I stepped out of my icy shower, the goosebumps on my skin only got worse as my feet hit the bathroom rug.

"Jesus Christ," I mumble, looking around. I forgot my fucking clothes.

Sighing, I wrap the towel around my waist as my heart begins to pound in my chest. He's going to think you're disgusting. I do, so he must think it as well. Who wouldn't?

I poked one of my ribs, and decided it wasn't protruded enough and it absolutely had to be worked on. I could still grab a bit of flab on my upper arms, and I decided that I definitely needed to be working out more. Although I already did that at least five times a week. Maybe I'd give it a rest while Josh was here, so he didn't have a reason to get anymore suspicious.

I walk out into the living room, and watch as Josh's eyes look up from his phone, light up as they ran over me.

"God, all your tattoos are fucking gorgeous, Ols." He smiles, eyes focused on my torso.

"U-Uh, oh th-thank you." I stutter, still baffled he didn't comment on my chub. I had to ask though. I couldn't help myself. "D-Don't you think I'm ch-chubby?"

His eyes practically grew to the size of saucers. "What? You told you that?"

I shake my head rapidly. "No, I j-just...I-"

"You think you're chubby, don't you?" He inquires, setting his phone down next to him and looking at me curiously.

"I th-think I r-resemble a whale," I whisper, barely audible, yet somehow he heard it.

"Oh, Oliver." He frowns. "Go get dressed, okay? We'll talk on the way to the cinema."

I nod, and slip into the bedroom. I really didn't wanna talk about it any further, I just wanted to know if he thought I was a fat fuck or not. I quickly dry my hair, and attempt to tug on a pair of khaki colored skinny jeans at the same time. Which I must say, was a massive success on my part. Next I decide on an old Iron Maiden shirt, and run a brush through my wavy hair.

Popping out of the bedroom, I smile when I find Josh already dressed and ready to go. He's even got his shoes on.

"I didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?" I ask, walking over to him and tugging on my solid black converse.

He shakes his head. "Not at all, you got done a couple seconds after I did."

"Even after I did my hair?" I ask, ushering him out the door and locking it behind us. I had my keys and any other sort of things like that on a normal red lanyard so I didn't lose all of them.

"Well, this isn't exactly easy to do," He chuckles, pointing up to his now up-do instead of his normal hairstyle.

"Whoa, hey your hair is up! That's pretty cool, wish I could do it." I say, not really wishing I could do it.

I was actually a bit more focused on how both of our strides were falling at the same time, despite me being an inch or two taller. I liked it, thought it was cool. I wasn't used to it. Mike is actually a few inches taller than me, so he practically drags me around like a dog on a leash. If that was deemed 'acceptable' I'm sure he'd have me on a shock collar by now.

"Why don't you do it?" He asks, following me out the front door and down the sidewalk.

"Wouldn't look good," I grumble, not really feeling up to questions about appearance. "Not confident enough."

"Why do you do that?" He asks, scrunching up his nose.

"Do what?" I inquire, raising my eyebrows at him. I pull my eyes up from the ground and look at him, a curious look in my eye as our pace quickens and the concrete squares of the sidewalk go by faster.

"Put yourself down. It really effects your behavior, y'know?" He asks, trying to get more information out of me.

"I don't even know," I sigh. Okay, so what if it was a lie? I don't care.

Josh holds open the door like the sweet gentlemen he is, and the smell of popcorn hits my nose as I sulk through the door.

"Can we just go back to the flat?" I whine, staring over at Josh. "There's gonna be a shitload of people in there!"

His eyes show sympathy. "Look, I'm sorry, I really am. But we both know Mike wouldn't want you to mope around at home all day, huh?" Shit, it wouldn't even be moping. More so a vacation more than anything. I got to wear clothes, no making meals, not having to cater to his every need.

I sigh, knowing he has me beat. So does Mike, I guess. Oh, okay, that wasn't a necessarily good thing to joke about- Stop thinking about it. "You're right, okay? Just don't expect me to be all shits and giggles. I hate being around strangers."

He raises an eyebrow as we get to the ticket booth. "Why's that?"

"People judge, anything can happen," I shrug in response, unable to accurately describe the feeling of anxiety with other people around.

He nods to show he was listening as he pulls out his wallet.

"How much are tickets?" I ask, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet, but Josh grabs my non-bruised wrist before I can fish it out. I give him a curious look.

"I'm paying, duh." He says, making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. "I made you come here with me, the least I can do is pay and make sure you have a decent time, right?"

I give a quick bite to the inside of my lip before responding. "Uh, yeah, I guess. But really, you do not have to pay for me. I'm perfectly capable."

"Never said you weren't," He points out. "I'm just doing something for a friend. People do that, y'know."

I shake my head. "I really don't get why you're so nice to me." It was a genuinely curious statement, and I didn't expect a long, heart-felt response right in public, and I'm glad that I didn't get one. Maybe he sensed it.

"Because you deserve it," He replies simply, smiling brightly as he hands the ticket lady his money. She hands him two small slips of paper, and sends us on our merry way.

"What movie are we seeing?" I question, looking to the red carpeted floor as we got in the snack line.

"The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug." He hums, staring up at the menu board.

"Josh, I haven't even seen the first one, what the fuck?" I mutter, feeling a sudden sink in my stomach.

"That's the fun in it," He winks, before it's our turn to order what we want. "What do you want?"

I shake my head. "Nothing, I'm vegan, remember?" Haha, another perfect excuse to why I can't eat greasy food. I have a feeling that, 'I'm fat.' probably wouldn't suffice for a decent reason.

"Of course I remembered, I just figured there'd be something with no animal by-products here," He smiles faintly, completely oblivious to the girl behind the counter practically drooling over him. She was actually very pretty. Long, wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and tan. Everything I wasn't, basically. Although I didn't exactly mind if I didn't have tits.

"I'm fine with a glass of water," I sigh, wishing he would just get whatever the fuck he wanted and we could get into the theatre.

Hopefully, he would get so absorbed into the movie that he wouldn't notice if I dozed off. It seems I'm always tired.