a/n: my inbox & dms are always open. 🖤
tw: husband!kiri, f!reader, disordered eating (no specific foods or numbers), relapse, anxiety, negative self talk
your stomach turned at his question.
“ready to make dinner, cutie?” eijiro said from the next room.
cooking dinner together was part of your routine when both of you were home.
eijiro had learned, being with you, that you liked to be meticulous with your food. most things had to be cooked or done in a certain way. there were tasks that you asked him to handle when the anxiety became too much. some days he’d let you push him out of the kitchen and do it all yourself to maintain a sense of control, and other days when you’d allow it, he did the same to you when he could see the panic in your eyes. he was okay with that because it meant he could take care of you.
you’d learned, being with him, that he was far too perceptive for his own good. he never let you treat yourself poorly if he could help it, never missed a change of habit. some days that felt like too much; he was a pro hero with enough on his plate. why couldn’t he let you handle this on your own?…
you knew why. he hated feeling helpless, especially when it came to you. but it still made you feel more like a burden than a loving partner.
“i’m not hungry. we can eat separately, if you want?” you said.
eijiro knew there was a fifty-fifty shot if it was true. he walked into the living room where you were reading a book and sat next to you.
his eyes held concern. “babe, is everything alright?”
not really. but you were too tired to talk.
“yeah, why?” you didn’t look up from the page. maybe if -
“this is the third night in a row,” eijiro said quietly.
you met his pained, crimson gaze. he did have reason to worry, at least this time.
it always started with skipping lunch when work got stressful. when your clothes didn’t fit right. when your stomach was too chubby or your thighs too big. then it was breakfast, when eijiro was asleep or already gone. then dumping last night’s dinner in the trash the next day when you said you’d eat it for lunch, opting for anything that didn’t make you panic, if you could stomach it.
when you needed a sense of something you could control, this was it. you could count numbers. you could watch them change. manipulate them until you felt some kind of relief. it was never happiness, but at least the fog of hunger made thoughts slow down. you could feel the way it affected your body, even if it didn’t feel good.
and that was all something. better than nothing.
“i’m okay, ei. really. my stomach hurts, that’s all,” you replied with a smile. which was true.
“do you need to see a doctor?” he asked. “you haven’t had breakfast in at least two weeks. don’t think i haven’t noticed just because i’m not here.”
a pang in your chest. this is why you insisted on doing the grocery shopping yourself. it took twice as long to go by yourself, but you didn’t care. it allowed you to hide. the last few weeks, you had to hand the list off to your husband. but he was thorough, always double checking.
“you know i keep food at work. and-”
his voice raised slightly. “that doesn’t mean you’re eating. you’re losing weight.”
a lump burned in your throat.
how is that a bad thing? what’s wrong with something that made me feel better? i’m too chubby anyways. it’s disgusting. i’m disgusting. why does he care?
you knew why it was wrong. had seen the effects of how habits like yours could rapidly destroy bodies. and eijiro knew that, too. but lately, that didn’t matter.
“please don’t push,” you said softly.
“no, i will push. i won’t sit here and watch you hurt the person i love. i can’t-” eijiro’s voice cracked. tears spilled down his cheeks. “i can’t do it. do you understand that?”
you fidgeted with the edge of a page as tears filled your own. “yes.”
“then will you come to the kitchen or let me make you something?” he pleaded. “we can have whatever you want. fuck our dinner plan, i’ll make you anything. i’ll let you cook if that helps, i don’t care. just… please?”
your mind wanted to argue. you don’t understand, you’d say. but it was unbearable to see eijiro like this. you set your book aside and wrapped your arms around him. he pulled you into a tight embrace as tears fell.
“i love you, eijiro,” you whispered.
he kissed the side of your head. “i love you. i love you so much. more than you could ever know.”
