youâve been skipping meals.
toji sees it. doesnât say shit at first. not his style. heâs not some nosy asshole whoâll ask what you ate for lunch or remind you to drink water every five seconds.
but heâs not blind either.
your face is thinner. hoodie swallowing you up more than usual. wrist bones sharper. you pick at food like itâs poison, sip coffee like itâs a meal.
he clocks it. every time.
and he lets it slide. once. twice. five times. maybe youâre just stressed, maybe itâll pass.
but tonight, he watches you open the fridge. stare inside like youâre trying to convince yourself. standing there like if you focus hard enough, the hungerâll go away.
he leans against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight.
âyou gonna eat somethinâ or just keep lyinâ to yourself?â
âiâm not lying,â you mumble.
he raises a brow. âyeah? fridgeâs been full for three fuckinâ days.â
âi just.. havenât been hungry.â
you flinch at that. heâs not here to coddle.
he pushes off the wall, walks over, closes the fridge for you. slow. quiet. heavy.
âyou think i donât notice?â he mutters. âyou think i donât see how your hands shake? how you âaccidentallyâ forget dinner, leave shit on your plate, say you ate earlier when i know you didnât?â
you try to look away. he grabs your chin, not rough, just firm. makes you look at him.
âyou think iâm stupid?â
your mouth opens. nothing comes out.
he clicks his tongue. lets go of your face. looks tired now, but not angry. just... done with the lies.
âi used to do the same shit,â he admits. voice low. âback when i fought for cash. had to stay a certain weight. thought starving meant control. strength.â
âall it did was fuck me up. made me weak. angry. sick.â
youâre quiet. too quiet. eyes glossy. he hates that look on you.
âyou got shit going on? fine. but donât starve yourself over it. donât treat your body like the enemy. itâs not.â
you still donât say anything, just blink too fast. and when your shoulders start to shake, he finally pulls you in. arms wrapping around you, solid and warm.
you donât cry. not really. just breathe against his chest like you havenât breathed in days.
âyou donât gotta talk,â he mutters into your hair. ânot now. just donât fucking lie to me. alright?â
âgood. now come sit your ass down.â
you do. legs tucked under you on the couch while he throws something together in the kitchen. nothing fancy. just enough to put something in your stomach.
he sets the plate in front of you. sits down next to you. doesnât say a word while you eat, just stays close. hand on your thigh. grounding.
when you hesitate mid-bite, guilt creeping up your throat, he taps the side of your knee.
âdonât overthink it. itâs jusâ food. ainât good or bad. itâs fuel.â
you nod again. quieter this time.
and when youâre done, when your plateâs empty and your shoulders finally drop, he kisses your temple.
âyouâre not broken,â he says. âdonât act like you are.â
and somehow, you believe him
âĄââââââĄââââââĄââââââĄ
A/N: i got the inspo from @sugussugar :>
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