Author's Note: The OC's name is pronounced ZYE-lee-ah.
Xylia was a woman of many talents. She could solve equations that seemed impossible, paint photo-like portraits, and other unique skills. The one thing that she did not grasp was the ability to accept herself for the way she was. It was the way her body was shaped that concerned her the most: the properly placed curves at the waist, the outward arch at the hips, and the suppleness of her thighs. Ever since she was young, Xylia stood in front of the mirror and tried correcting what she called "mistakes". As the phrase goes, she was her greatest critic and a harsh one.
However, just one day made the insecurity turn into a wildfire. She had been planning to go on a summer vacation along with some friends after her first college exams were over. Since the location of the summer home was at a beach, Xylia had decided to go out and buy a bathing suit. Out of the wide variety of suits, she had found one among them that she had loved. It was a 1950s style two-piece and looked like it would fit just right. Yet her hope were dropped when she glanced at herself in the mirror of the changing room. Her eyes carefully surveyed the ample flesh over her middle feeling the slightest bit of disgust. She poked at her softly rounded belly thinking it needed to be much, much flatter.
Despite all this, during her last years of college she had gone off to study abroad in France and there she met Francis. He was tall, romantic, and knew just how to get her. They dated for about two years until her insecurity came into play and started to strain their relationship. The problem was Xylia was more so yelling at herself than at Francis, who had no clue what was going on until the truth came about one evening while Francis was cooking dinner and Xylia was stepping out of the shower.
Steam rolled off her skin when she cracked open the window in the upper corner of the bathroom. Goosebumps quickly rose like an avid crowd at a sport event, and she hastily pulled a thick towel around her. Glancing down, her eyes captured the scale and dismissed the thought right away. Pacing for a moment or two, she decided to give it a look. Her steam-softened feet gently press on the slightly moist metal making it creak in response. It's old, she told herself and watched the numbers spin around until it stopped.
Quickly ripping the towel off of her, she waited to see if it would make a difference but was gravely mistaken. It barely moved an inch and she was mortified. Her hands reached down to squeeze her stomach and a sigh pushed through her nostrils. After poking and prodding her skin in the mirror, she dressed in a saddened and frustrated state. Xylia dragged her feet past their bedroom and slowly sat down in the living room. Pouting and sinking into the couch, she peered over the top to watch her boyfriend happily staring at her. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her pink apron tied about his waist. Behind him, pots had steam caressing the air above the oven and vegetables chopped up ready to be boiled.
Xylia's eyes narrowed a bit before she said, "What are you staring at?"
Used to her rude tones, he smiled. "At my loving and beautiful girlfriend."
"I'd take back that second part." She muttered and pushed her feet out in front of her, as if she could push out herself. Peering over her shoulder again, she saw he was turning the burners down before walking over to the couch. He settled down besides her and took her hands in his.
"Xylia, look at me?" He asked with a gentle smile and she looked at it in the corner of her eyes. "What's bringing these thoughts on?"
She scowled and said, "I don't see how you find this attractive." She pointed to her stomach and painfully pressed her fingers there. Her scowl deepened and a sigh came from him. His lips brushed her earlobe as he moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His warmth was comforting but the pain in her chest was still there.
"You're perfect." He hummed and she pulls away.
"Perfect? You call this perfect?" She said lowly and his eyes widened at the tears that formed in her eyes. She rarely cried but when she did it was usually because of her monthly cycle. He stood up slowly, placing his hands on her arms, and lowered his head down to have their eyes leveled.
"Xylia, please tell me what's going on? Why are you being so mad at yourself?" He asked while slowly moving his hands upwards to her face. She ground her teeth together and looked away from his soft expression. Her face felt as though it swelled up underneath his concerned gaze and her eyes shut tightly, trying to hold back the tears.
"This has built up over the years, hasn't it cher?" He questioned.
"It's been this way for years, Francis. It just happens now because you are so..." She bit her lips and covered her face in frustration.
"What about me?" He sounded slightly scared but not of her thinking he's not good-looking. He was worried she was losing her love for him and it was something that scared him more than anything.
"You're so amazing and I'm all..." She stopped herself.
"You are...?"
"I'm..."
"Come on, Lia, I'm sure it's not bad!" He chuckled with a reassuring glance.
"I'm fat, Francis! I'm this unattractive large gray blob next to a shining diamond." She said gesturing to him when she said diamond. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly ajar. Suddenly he started laughing and she was too shocked by it to be angry or sad. He then leaned forward and kissed her lips while reaching down to hug her legs, lifting her up. Looking up at her, his smile shined for her and he was practically glowing with happiness.
Despite the light mood, Xylia glowered. "What the hell is wrong with you? Put me down!" She snapped while wiping her eyes.
"You are the most beautiful creature in my world, love. Un diamant brillant ne serait rien sans le charbon qui le rend." He whispered against her collarbone and she blushed brightly. Translating the sentence in her head, she scowled.
"Idiot! Diamonds don't come from coal!" She grumbled. "Now put me down!"
He laughed and let her slide down to her feet, never letting her go. "However you understand what I am saying, no? I would be nothing without you in my life."
"Technically -"
"Xylia, you know I love you, body and soul. I don't need all the details, I need just you and only you." He smiled. She felt as if all the weight of her past blew off her shoulders. Once again, tears burned her eyes and she leaned into his chest. Kissing her head and rubbing her back, he moved so they were sitting and let her lay on him.
"Now, would you like to eat?" He asked with a light tone.
"Francis."
"I'm sure you are as hungry as I am." He said rubbing his belly like a goof. "I made our favorite."
Her eyes had lit up immediately. "Truffle fries, brioche, and chateaubriand?"
"The best for you." He smiled and she quickly moved to the kitchen. He watched the luscious way her full hips swayed and thought, without it he might have not loved her any way different. Standing up, he caught her with one of the fries balancing between her pink lips and a guilty look upon her face.
"I love you."
"I know."
Un diamant brillant ne serait rien sans le charbon qui le rend. - A shining diamond would be nothing without the coal that makes it.
Brioche is a sweet French bread roll made from a dough enriched with eggs and butter.
Chateaubriand is a thick beefsteak cut from the widest middle part of the filet.
I want to thank the amazing beta and brilliant writer Awen Sofer.