13.1 Family

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"You really have gained some weight," Keith whispers awed after I've pulled my shirt over my head, and I roll my eyes at him with a groan. I know that I've been slacking off recently, though Dael has told me that I look absolutely fine. It's why I met up with Keith to go to the gym in the first place.

I look down at the thin layer of fat that has turned the sharp outlines of my eight-pack into the soft shapes of a six-pack. This could be worse, but it could also be a lot better, and I'm not going to get any fitter from sitting at home and eating chocolate cake.

"Come on," Keith laughs, giving my upper arm a sharp punch. I frown down at him. "You're hot, don't worry. Besides, now you finally have something to hold on to."

I raise my eyebrows disbelievingly. "Great."

"I think you actually look better than before, seriously."

"I thought you were here to work out with me?"

"I am," he sighs and shakes his head at me. "I just don't get why you're so on edge."

"I'm not."

"You are," he stresses, putting his hands on his hips. "Did Dael say you're too fat or where does this come from?"

I stare at him, a little dumbfounded. Honestly, Dael's the same opinion as him, but revealing that would put me in the position of having to defend myself. Keith narrows his eyes at me.

"I'm so going to kick his ass."

"It's not Dael," I give in weakly and pull my sports shirt from my bag, then shrug into it. I don't want to talk about it, but letting Keith think it's Dael's fault is too dangerous. He might just actually attempt to kick his ass - and I don't want to end up in the middle of that fight. I sigh. "I just want to stay in shape. I'm getting older."

"You're what? 23? You probably still have like ten years of getting hotter before you can say anything about being old."

"And training is going to make that at least fifteen," I point out. No idea what I'm going to do after that, though. There's going to come that day when Dael is still looking like the god he is, and I have turned into some old fart that no one wants to lay a hand on.

"Whatever," Keith gives in and gets dressed as well. I glance over at his body, noticing that he's not really one to talk. He's thin to the bones - which works well for his slender, small stature. "So, besides the fact that you're gaining weight, how's living with your vampire going?"

My mood lightens immediately at the question, and Keith wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Don't-"

"It's perfect. I know we've had our differences and my neck looks butchered, but really, it's like he can finally be nice to me now that he's admitted that he loves me."

"Please, just stop," Keith mutters. I roll my eyes at him. He asked, his fault.

"I'm just saying. Dael's the best thing that ever happened to me, and it's like we can finally enjoy that now."

Keith looks about to run away, but he has to tie his shoelaces first. "Okay, I get it. You're one love-struck idiot living with another love-struck idiot."

"You asked." I pout.

"And I regret asking."

What follows is a lengthy discussion concerning the appropriate degree of happiness when in love, and it only stops when we step on the treadmill for our warm up. The exercise takes my mind off of the whole vampire business, giving me some space to simply be. It's similar to painting, just less emotional.

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