Despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm I still wanted to make Will happy. He had been annoyed and stressed quite a lot lately and didn't often talk to me, or even hold me close over the past few days. I knew one thing I could do: that blasted diet.
I managed to stick to it, in a way. I stopped eating all the usual sugary foods and all the other things Will had said I shouldn't eat. Cutting all of this out of my diet did mean I ate a lot less, and I suffered because of this. My legs and arms ached, especially when I was stood up, and I felt weak and had a stomach ache a lot of the time, but I was finally sticking to the diet.
William found out tonight. I had left my room and went to the kitchen for a drink. I was just taking the glass out of the cupboard when I heard his voice.
"What are you scrabbing for this time?"
I turned round and grinned at him. "Just getting some water"
I filled the glass up and approached him carefully.
"I am not sure I believe you" Will said, looking me over. "What have you got in your pockets?"
I looked at him for a moment, confused. "Nothing. Honestly, you'd be able to see if I had anything. Besides, I'm on a diet"
"On a diet?" he repeated uncertainly. "Well, I did notice there was a lot more chocolate and biscuits than usual. So you're really sticking to it?"
"Yeah, I am" I grinned enthusiastically. "I feel healither already. I should have listened to you before. I don't know why I made such a fuss"
A slight smile tugged at his lips and he hugged me tight, kissing my face and running his hand upwards through my short hair.
"Have you lost any weight yet?" he asked, letting go of me and stepping back.
"Um. Well. I haven't weighed myself, so I don't really know" I answered uncomfortably.
"There's a set of scales in the bathroom cupboard" Will told me. "You should weigh yourself at around the same time every evening to keep track of your progress"
I nodded and smiled again. He hugged and kissed me before letting me go back to my room with the drink.
Sticking to the diet was hard going. It was bad enough having hardly anything to eat and missing out on all my sugar and being forced to go on a walk every evening for an hour or so for exercise (but at least I got to hold hands with my darling throughout) but I absolutely hated weighing myself. Of course I knew that was an essential part of dieting but those numbers meant nothing to me. I'd never cared about my weight before but now, day by day, I seemed to care just a tiny bit more about it.
At first I didn't see anything shocking about the numbers but when William had a look while I was on the scales one evening he flew off the handle, telling me he didn't think I was that overweight.
"Where am I supposed to lose weight from then?" I shouted, stepping off the scales and gesturing at my body. "I can't see how I need to lose weight when my hips jut out this much at the front to start with!"
"Grell, this isn't about that! You need to lose weight, and seeing as you said you're sticking to this diet, that's what you're going to do!"
We ended up arguing. It went on for quite a while and Will kept grabbing at me and telling me this is where fat needs to be lost. I told him not to use that word. It sounded so foriegn to me. We carried on arguing, shouting at each other furiously. But then he started insulting me. He said a lot but one thing stuck in my mind. I didn't believe him when he called me fat but it still hurt and he made me cry.
I shook it off each day as my weight decreased but there were no visible changes. I was hungry a lot of the time but if it made Will happy, that was all that mattered. I told him that in my mind every day. This is just for you.