Faster.

For the third time in the past ten minutes, I up the speed on the treadmill and raise the incline a little higher. They're not going to have anything to say about me after this. I'll show them. I'll show all of them..

Faster.

I grimace at another wave of nausea in my stomach and glance at the clock on my wall that reads 2:47pm. The little bit of yogurt I had eaten for breakfast was gone and I had pretty much skipped lunch. Too many calories for my taste... Keep going.

Faster...

My heart's racing and I'm breathing hard as I up the speed again. I've past my limit awhile ago and my baggy Superman tee is soaked with sweat, but I can't stop yet. My eyes catch the sight of my laptop on the dining room table and I feel the tightness in my throat again. No... I've got to push myself harder. For him. For Tom.

"Ashley, where are you?"

The sound of his voice as he steps inside distracts me for just a moment...but it's enough. I miss my step and all at once I'm stumbling forward; my body falling flat onto the belt before the speed slams me against the wall in a crumbled heap. The impact knocks the wind out of me and for a moment, all I can do is lay there and gasp for breath as I hear Tom's footsteps getting closer.

"Ashley! Oh god, are you alright?" I hear him say; the panic evident in his voice. As he goes to help me up, another wave of nausea hits; the worst so far and I push his hand away. "I've gotta puke..." I croak, trying to ignore the acid taste in my throat. It isn't long before he's back with a bowl, but after a few moments, the feeling starts ebbing away and I manage a grateful smile.

"Thanks for that..."

"It's no trouble at all. What happened?" he asked as he turned off the out-of-control machine.

"I-I guess it just got away from me." I lied. No need to burden him with my issues. I move to try to get to my feet, only to let out a gasp and stumble as a sharp pain shoots through my ankle. Just as quickly, I feel Tom's hand on my shoulder; he's noticed it too.

"Do you think you can make to the sofa?"

"I don't know." I mumble through grit teeth as I try to move it. "It hurts..."

Before I can say another word, Tom scoops me up in his arms and easily manages to carry me into the living room. I can feel my cheeks turning bright pink and for a moment, I wonder if this is how Ruth Wilson felt during that scene of theirs in 'Suburban Shootout'. I mention it to him and he breaks out in a grin.

"You know, if I remember correctly, she did seem to mess up a lot of takes when we were filming that scene..." he chuckled as he set me down on the couch before taking a seat himself.

"Can't say that I blame her... What are you going to do?" I asked as he took my sore foot in his hand.

"I'm going to try moving your foot to test and see if you've broken your ankle. If the pain gets to be too much, I want you to tell me. Alright?"

"O-okay." I stammer as I try to hide the nervousness in my voice to which he just smiles.

"Don't worry. I promise I'll be gentle." he grins.

Carefully, he manages to untie the laces and remove the shoe from my foot and with the easiest of touches, he gently moves my swollen foot from one side to the other, watching for any reaction from me. While it's definitely sore, it's nothing that I can't handle and after a moment, I give him a small nod.

"It's not broken." he says with a breath of relief and gently props my foot up with a pillow. "You've got a beaut of a sprain though and it's already starting to bruise. You sit tight; I'll get you some ice." At that point, my stomach lets out yet another loud growl before I can hide it in time.

"And a snack." He adds with a grin.

As he goes into the kitchen, I drop my head back against the pillow and mentally curse myself. Of all the things, I had to go and sprain my ankle. I'll have to be off it for the next few days so running's completely out. That means I'll have to cut my calorie intake even more, but any more and Tom's going to get suspicious. I can't use the 'I'm just not hungry' excuse forever... Maybe I can...

Before I can think any further, Tom's back with two bright Gala apples; one which he tosses to me with a wink, before wrapping a compress for my ankle. Slowly I roll the apple around in my hand; it does look really good. Besides, it's fruit. How bad could it possibly be? After thinking about it a while longer, I finally decide that it's okay and take three large bites, sighing at how sweet it is and to have something in my stomach.

"Slow down. No one taking that apple from you."

Oh god, I must have looked like a starved animal... "I guess I was hungrier than I thought." I say before taking another bite, nibbling this time.

"I guess so." He said with a chuckle. "Did you not eat a big enough lunch?"

I don't want to lie to him, but my silence is enough. "You didn't eat lunch, did you?"

As I shake my head no, I see the laughter in his eyes fade away and I hate that I'm the cause of it as he squeezes my hand.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

Uh oh...the direct question. Have to tell him now. "A little yogurt at 8 this morning..." I reply quietly.

"That's all?" His tone isn't angry; rather, it's filled with worry as he tries to make eye contact with me. "Ashley, what's going on? Ever since we got back from the premier, you've been exercising like a mad woman and barely eating anything. Was it something I..."

"No no no, of course not." I said quickly. The last thing I wanted was for him to think he was responsible for this. But I knew he wouldn't leave it alone until he had an answer. "I...got this tweet today..."

At the sound of that, I could see his jaw slightly clench before letting out a frustrated sigh and I know what he's thinking. For the most part, Tom's fans had been very supportive of our relationship since it went public, but there were still a small handful that seemed to take great pleasure in leaving me hate tweets.

"What did it say?" he asked slowly.

"That's just it. They didn't say anything; just a link to an article about the premier. It's pulled up on my laptop." I replied as he went to read the article. I didn't want to look at it anymore, but I couldn't bring myself to close the link. Had it been just a hate tweet, I could have over-looked it. But this was different; a popular entertainment column that had written an article on Tom at the premier, a picture of the two of us the first thing you saw. But while Tom looked as beautiful as ever, I had been shot at a unflattering angle, making me look much larger than I actually was. And the article ripped me apart...

He didn't have to read it aloud, but I could tell where he was as the crease in his forehead grew deeper and deeper; the comments about my weight, my outfit, the comparisons to his previous girlfriends... And the comments...the comments were so much worse... People using every derogatory word they could, accusing me of being a 'gold-digger' and how he deserved someone who was worthy of him. All of it together was too much and as he reached the end of the article and looked at me, the lump in my throat was unbearable.

"People are something aren't they?" I smirk, trying to keep down a sob. "It's like they're always looking for someone to pick apart."

"Ashley... You know none of what they're saying is true right?" he says as he moved over to the sofa and positioned me so that I'm cradled in his arms.

"Sure I do. But I...It's not fair, you know?" The tears are flowing freely now, leaving stains on his gray t-shirt but I can't stop them and the words just fly out in frustration. "I mean, I know I'm not a size 2 but I've been working so hard to lose the weight. All the exercising, the calorie cutting... Not because they thought I needed to; because I wanted it for me, so I could be healthy and feel better about myself. And just when I get to point where I'm actually starting to be happy with myself again, when I actually like myself again, this kind of stuff happens..." All the pain of seeing that article finally bubbles over and all I can do is sob while Tom squeezes tighter to try to calm me down.

"Everybody keeps saying that you deserve better." I hiccup after a moment. "I don't know...maybe they're right..."

That did it. Pulling away, he grasped me by the shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eyes. "Ashley, listen to me. There's two things you need to know. First, I'm so unbelievably proud of the changes you've made for your health and how much better you feel. Not to mention that I now have a running companion. But you skipping meals and exercising yourself into the ground isn't the way to go about it. It's not healthy and frankly, you're scaring me half to death."

His comment caught me slightly off-guard. I knew what I had been doing for the past two weeks wasn't healthy, but the last thing I ever wanted to do was make him worry about me and mentally I promise myself that I would try to do better. If not for myself, for him...

"A-And what's the other thing?" I sniffled as I wiped my eyes.

"You don't need to prove yourself to anyone; not the entertainment industry, not to my fans, not even to me. As long as you're happy, I would love you exactly the same if you wore a size 2 or a size 22. And what's weight anyway? Just a number on the scale. Besides, all my favorite things about you have nothing to do with your size."

"Like...?"

"Like I love how you're always excited to help me with a new script. I love the way your eyes sparkle when I say something romantic from Shakespeare. And I love how you always blush when I say something about your eyes." he grinned.

Only when he said it did I sense the warmth growing on my cheeks and I couldn't help but try to bury my face before Tom gently cupped my cheeks in his hand and rose my gaze to meet his.

"But never forget..." he started as he kissed my forehead.

"that I love you..."

Kiss on my cheek.

"exactly the way..."

Kiss on my nose,

"that you are."

By now, his lips had found mine and I sighed in complete happiness as I leaned further towards him; not caring now of the feeling of his hands climbing up my back, over a body that I had been so ashamed of only hours before. He was right. Who cares what everyone else thinks? I like myself the way I am and someone who loves me that feels the same. That's enough for me. Tom's lips pulling away from mine is what breaks the moment, with him looking more than a little concerned and unsure of what to do next.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Why did you stop?"

"Your ankle." he motioned to my currently wrapped foot still propped up by a pillow. "This probably isn't the best time to do this, darling..."

Looking at my foot, then back at him, I shrugged and gave a mischievous smile.

"It's okay. We can work around it. "

~THE END~