He Loves Me, I Love Ballet

Chapter 20

He kissed me back, only for a tiny second, and then pulled back. His expression was of a confused and barely contained joy - it suited him.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded.
"Why?"
"I think because you care, and you tried so hard. You're so...." I trailed off, unable to describe what it was about him. "Caring? Kind? I don't know Rian I just.... I want...." I kissed him again and then buried my face in his neck, wrapping my arms around him, needing someone to hold and someone to hold me back. I could feel him smile. "Okay."
"Okay," I repeated.

We lay back on the picnic blanket until it was approaching evening. We only spoke once.
"You know, I still don't want to get better. It's not gonna be that easy." I said, staring up at the sky. To my surprise, Rian chuckled.
"Yeah, I know. And you know I'm not gonna give up on you."
I grinned for the first time in months. "I know. I'll go back to hating that tomorrow."
"So today...?" Rian questioned, turning towards me. I moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Just shut up."
He laughed and looked back up, and we stared at the wisps of cloud until they turned into stars. I fell asleep there, Rian's arm wrapped around my shoulders and supporting my head.

***

He returned me home the next morning, kissing me goodbye on the front porch. It was brief, soft, and chaste, sweeter than anything I could have imagined. Damn, if there was anyone just destined for a romantic chick flick, it was him. I guess he'd texted my parents while I was sleeping to tell them where I was, because I was met only with knowing smiles. I passed the day in my room, fitting in a short run when I insisted it'd be fine for mom and dad to go out to lunch. Rian wouldn't approve, but.... Well. I liked him, in fact I liked him a god damn lot, terrifyingly so, but he wasn't gonna change me overnight. Or ever, if I had my way, but I was beginning to think I wouldn't have my way, and even more worrying: I was beginning not to care. I just wanted to dance, and I wanted to be with Rian, and the part of me that I kept holding onto, the hunger-obsessed part, was slipping from my hold.
I'd lost sight of why I'd liked starving in the first place. It had all been for dance. Then, somewhere along the way, that goal had gotten lost, mixed up and hidden in a whirl of scales and sad convictions. I wondered why, if I could see how silly I was being, the thought of food was still repelling.
What the fuck was I doing?